Crime

Ah, Seattle, that environmentally obsessed city where all is decorous, the sidewalks immaculately swept, the parks rigorously trimmed, proverbial for its shimmering lakes and charming rows of variegated tents housing those of no fixed abode — and recently, too, for a municipal government with much the same level of restraint as a bus being driven downhill by the Marx Brothers. Readers may be familiar with the strange phenomenon of a civic treasury that marries heady rhetoric about its prudent stewardship of public money with a cynical disregard for the suckers who actually foot the bills.

Political years are the opposite of dog years: they pass by in a blaze, with entire epochs elapsing in the course of a few news cycles. Ideas, even movements, fade abruptly, recalled only years later when you clean out your garage and stumble on that old tricorn hat from your Tea Party days. If you want to know how jarring political change can be, consider that at this time in the 2016 election cycle — around the late spring of 2015 — the predicted frontrunner for the GOP nomination was Rand Paul. This was no coincidence. In those days, we were said to be in the middle of something called a libertarian moment. Voters were leery of Barack Obama’s deficit spending, Washington’s endless wars, the NSA surveillance that had been unveiled by Edward Snowden.

Philadelphia will choose its next mayor tomorrow. The election isn’t until November, but Republicans don’t stand a chance in the City of Brotherly Love these days. So tomorrow’s Democratic primary is all that matters.  In this big-city race, crime and public safety has dominated the campaign, pitting moderate Democrats against progressives. If you feel like you’ve read that sentence before, it’s because you probably have, in relation to any number of major US cities in the last three years.  Since 2020, America’s metropolises have been the scene of blue-on-blue political fights over the interlocking issues of crime, homelessness, public order, criminal justice and Covid restrictions.

The mixed verdict delivered by the jury in the Donald Trump civil rape case will be interpreted differently by those who support and oppose the former president.   On the main count that Trump raped E. Jean Carroll, the nine-person jury unanimously found that he did not. The plaintiff could not even satisfy its low burden of proof, namely proof beyond a preponderance of the evidence. In so finding, the jury apparently disbelieved at least part of the plaintiff’s testimony. She was very specific about being raped, not merely sexually abused or molested, as the jury did find.   It’s a strange verdict.

Most of those who follow the news have already seen the distressing video. A black man, Jordan Neely, walked onto a New York subway train screaming obscenities and ranting about his own destitution. Another passenger, a former Marine called Daniel Penny, came up behind him, took him to the ground and placed him into a chokehold. Neely lost consciousness and died. A Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist could not create a better scenario that perfectly exemplifies everyone’s societal meta-narratives, a Rorschach test onto which we can map our assumptions and biases. It resembles a “what do you see? Two women or a wine glass?” kind of picture. Is this a black man, destroyed and choked by oppression, or the inevitable result of societal decay?

Alvin Bragg has made good on his campaign promise to hold former president Donald J. Trump “accountable” by indicting him under New York law for thirty-four felony counts of falsifying business records. For seven years, Bragg’s predecessor and numerous federal entities considered the same facts and declined to pursue charges. Given Bragg’s well documented leniency toward the violent criminals currently terrorizing New York, it’s difficult to imagine this case would have been brought against anyone but Trump.

Baltimore has the highest murder rate in the country, so one would imagine the state’s legislators would be seeking ways to get tough on violent criminals and safeguard the city’s residents. Instead, nine members of the Maryland House of Delegates, all Democrats, have co-sponsored a bill designed to benefit young killers. The deceptively named Youth Accountability and Safety Act (HB 1180) prevents prosecutors in the state from charging anyone under the age of twenty-five with first-degree murder.   Under Maryland law, first-degree murder includes premeditated murder, along with various other types of murders, including those committed while perpetrating arson, rape, burglary, carjacking, kidnapping, escape from a correctional facility, sexual offenses and others.

From top to bottom, the Chicago Teachers Union — one of the shadiest unions in America — now runs the Windy City. Brandon Johnson will succeed scandal-plagued Mayor Lori Lightfoot and hand his former colleagues in CTU the keys to the city. Johnson made hundreds of thousands of dollars as a CTU executive, while failing to pay thousands of dollars to Chicago in fees in water and sewage bills. When all is said and done, Johnson will have defeated his fellow Democrat Paul Vallas in the runoff by about 4 percent. In contrast with Johnson’s platitude-heavy offering, Vallas ran a campaign laser-focused on crime, pledging to boost the city’s police force numbers at a time when crime is surging once again in America’s third largest city.

Spoilt for choice in the Windy City If the heavy defeat suffered by incumbent mayor Lori Lightfoot last month is anything to go by, Chicagoans have plenty to grumble about when it comes to how their city is managed. But when they head to the polls in the mayoral runoff next week, they cannot complain about a lack of choice. The two candidates are both Democrats, to be sure, but they offer sharply different approaches on the crime and public safety — issues that have dominated the race and which polls suggest are at the forefront of voters’ minds.  Paul Vallas, who used to run the city’s public schools, is running in the moderate lane: sharply critical of Lightfoot and prioritizing public safety above all else. Brandon Johnson is the progressive option.

When last we checked in on The Donald Trump Show, the absurdist political thriller that’s been airing nonstop on CNN for the past seven years, the program seemed to have gotten its groove back. A new character had been introduced, Cassidy Hutchinson, a Trump aide who told the January 6 committee that the former president had lashed out violently, including allegedly trying to commandeer the presidential SUV. Here was everything that had made The Donald Trump Show so great in the first place: the over-the-top drama, the scandal, the unpredictability of its main character. Alas, one of the gripes that critics have most often leveled at the show is that it introduces new plotlines and then doesn’t do anything with them.

Americans may never before have felt their country was farther from its finest hour. And yet, on the Fourth of July last year, residents gathered in the heart of its birthplace for an ever-rarer expression of patriotic sentiment. It was to be a brief display. Blood spilled before the clock struck ten. Though no one saw a gunman or heard gunfire, two police officers were struck by stray bullets on the famous steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum. Word spread quickly, and suddenly no one could be sure whether they were hearing fireworks or gunshots. On the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, patriotism turned to terror, then shrieks gave way to silence.