Murdering to Prevent Murder: Say What?

A man with ties to a paramilitary group shot and killed an abortion provider in Wichita Kansas today. Dr. George Tiller was acting as an usher for a service underway at his church when he was gunned down. The alledged killer fled but police say he was apprehended a short time later, apparently driving to his home in the Kansas City area. They believe he acted alone but there are indications he had connections with the Posse Comitatus and the Freemen, both right wing paramilitary groups*, and reportedly posted comments on an anti-abortion blog site.

Dr. Tiller was a focal point of the national abortion issue. He was shot through both arms by a protestor several years ago. The woman who shot him is in prison.

I met and interviewed Dr. Tiller after his clinic was bombed in the mid-80's; he was speaking in Kansas City. I ran into him just as he was leaving the venue and he was gracious as I fumbled with my equipment, trying to get ready. The actual Q and A is a blur, but I recall he struck me as caring deeply about his patients their health, and their right to choose. The kind of doc I would want to have in a crisis.

People on both sides of the debate have decried today's killing but I can't help but believe that many on the side of, ironically, the Right to Life movement are gleeful about Tiller's death. In fact, according to the Topeka Capital-Journal, some didn't bother to hide their pleasure.

"At the same time expressions of sympathy poured forth in Wichita, opponents of abortion drove past the clinic cheering and honking horns in celebration of Tiller’s demise."

Tiller was one of few physicians in the country willing to perform late-term abortions...or the murder of human beings... depending which argument you choose.

No matter what his beliefs or actions, his murder is repulsive. The fact he was shot down in a house of God, a place of peace where where families with children could also have been hurt, is depraved.

News stories have mentioned that Tiller's bodyguard was not with him at the time of the attack. I'm willing to bet that's because Tiller believed he would be safe in a place of worship.

If that's the case, he was tragically wrong.

*Monday Update: The suspect, 51 year old Scott Roeder of Merriam Kansas, was arrested in 1996 near Topeka for driving a car with a license plate "issued" by the Freemen, a group that believes they have immunity from paying taxes. Police found explosives in his car. He was charged with possession of explosive devices but the case was later dismissed on grounds of an illegal search. A number of people on both sides of the abortion issue knew or knew of Roeder, and several of those people have been quoted as saying they felt he was dangerous.
According to reporters I spoke to this morning who are covering the story, there are indications the County Attorney in Wichita may be considering recusing herself from the case and asking federal authorities to step in and prosecute Roeder under hate crime statutes.

The Unreality of Reality TV

Until recently, I thought the show "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" was a popular Saturday morning cartoon. Guess not. More of a caricature of modern life.

From reading the cover of People and short blurbs in the Tribune and Sun-Times, my take-away is that the show is about two morons who produced eight offspring and basically now act hatefully toward each other while they daily force their children to put up with pandemonium and chaos for (as various reports have it) 50 to 75 thousand dollars per episode.

Let's see a show of hands...how many of you think this show is really for real? I sure don't. Then again, I never believed a single moment of Survivor or Amazing Race or Fear Factor or even Maury or Jerry. And we all know about the WWF (wink wink).

No, Kate and Jon aren't professional actors, nor are their kids. But don't think for a moment they don't have professional producers, wise in the ways of television and ratings, egging them on and demanding the performances that will win big advertiser dollars. What better to end one season and start another than a huge cheating scandal blown up by the tabloids? Why not sow conflict and hatred to make the big bucks?

Come on, folks. This is domestic life's version of pro-wrestling. These people are being paid to explode their family and destroy their kids' futures just as the guests on Jerry and Maury are paid to showcase their depravity and ignorance.

And you're buying every minute of it, aren't you?

Frankly, I don't care what happens to Jon and Kate. But somebody should get a childrens' advocate into that house/studio and remove those kids before they are scarred for life by two parents who have been seduced by the network's flim-flammers and blinded by the bright lights of unreality.

Should Michael Vick Play Again in the NFL?

Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about the mistreatment of animals.

Animal abuse sends me into a white hot fury. I believe pet owners who beat or terrorize their dogs and cats should have the same pain inflicted on them ten-fold. And I regard those who condone or allow dogfighting as some of the most vile and cretinous creatures on the planet, right up there on the should-be-burned-in-a-gasoline-filled pit with child rapists.

That said, the Michael Vick debate gives me pause. The guy will have served his time come July. Should he be allowed to rejoin the NFL, if a team will have him?

First let me say this. Who am I kidding? The man is regarded as a world-class player. Of course team owners, concerned only with the bottom-line benefit to their franchise, will scramble over one another to make him offers. It will be up to the NFL Commissioner to decide whether to allow him back.

The Commissioner and those team owners aren't evil people. They may even have pets of their own. But I would imagine none of them will consider the pain and suffering Vick caused when they make up their minds about his return to duty. That he's a convicted felon may weigh on their minds momentarily but, in point of fact, they'll know a good spinmeister can make that seem irrelevant. A little picketing, a miniscule amount of lost revenue the first year. So what?

The guy served his time, the argument goes. Shouldn't he be allowed back into his profession? After all, the NFL is hardly filled with saints.

I see one small sticking point.

Dogfighting occurs only so gamblers can make money.

Mr. Commissioner, do you want someone with those kinds of connections on one of your teams?

Movie Review: Star Trek

I've never been a Trekker. Watched a few episodes when the series was on and enjoyed them. Caught a few of the movies and enjoyed them, too, although I think they kept Shatner and crew way past their prime. I went to the new Star Trek with no expectations at all, just curious about what J.J. Abrams would do to the franchise.

It was terrific. So terrific I went Saturday to a dinner theatre (the food sucked and sitting in an office swivel chair is a lousy way to watch a movie), then went back last night and saw it in Imax format (exciting...but again, the seats sucked).

The casting is marvelous. Each of the young actors chosen for the leads, Kirk(Chris Pine), Spock (Zachary Quinto) and "Bones" McCoy(Karl Urban) and even Scotty(Simon Pegg), obviously studied the mannerisms of their forebears and learned the subtleties of words and gestures that channeled the original crew. The way Kirk sat in his chair, the emphasis on bits of McCoy's dialogue (who can forget his "Good God man!"), the two-shots of Kirk and Spock when they beam into the enemy ship and Scotty's over-the-top excitement all brought a thrill. The appearance of Leonard Nimoy made sense, too, without pandering to the audience.

Yes, the plot has mammoth holes in it but none stopped the action for me. This is a movie that doesn't take itself too seriously and makes use of a clever time-warp idea to explain veering from the original Star Trek concept. The camera angles and colors used in showing off the bridge give it a roomy, comfortable feel and the camera work in general plays down the fact that every significant scene is interior or quick exteriors (with the exception of a great close quarters battle sequence outside on a drilling platform).

If I had one significant objection, it was to the soundtrack. There's no way to outdo Jerry Goldsmith's original theme, which is used for closing credits, but I think the composer blew an opportunity to create an outstanding new score. The music is banal and uninteresting at best, which doesn't do justice to the excitement of what, I hope, will be a new series of Star Trek films.

Mother's Day leaves me thinking of Drew Peterson, accused slayer of one mother and suspected in the disappearance of another. In fact, had he not been hauled off to jail this week, he'd still be wooing a third one, a lost, lovestruck girl who seems not to care that two of his previous wives didn't fare very well.

A couple of things occurred to me as I watched the media coverage of his arrest. One is whether the Will County State's Attorney really has the evidence he needs to prosecute Peterson for the murder of his third wife. A good lawyer, after all, can pursuade a Grand Jury to indict a ham sandwich. Winning a conviction is considerably harder. If political expediency and not facts led to Peterson's arrest this week, it's going to be a really short, embarrassing trial for James Glasgow.

Peterson brought an almost Jimmy Cagney-esque flavor to his first court appearance. While he didn't quite dance into the courthouse, he jested with reporters and grinned for photographers in the manner of a guy with a get out of jail card taped to his buttocks.

I wonder, though. Behind that charming facade, that arrogant grin, what goes on in his head when he's alone in his cell?

Is he bluff and hearty or is there the tiniest spark of fear? Of panic?

His attorney won't be available until May 18th, leaving him to enjoy the county's hospitality until then. If Peterson is the psychopath many claim him to be, I'd be damned uncomfortable being that lawyer.

The sick part of my enjoyment of Mother's Day this year comes from thinking about Peterson sitting on his bunk, furious. Frustrated. And worried, if only a little bit, if this is all just a prelude to the way he'll spend the rest of his life.

Happy Mother's Day Drew. And, hopefully, many more just like this one for you.