The Death of Anwar al-Awlaki

The President of the United States ordered an American citizen killed last week.  Without a trial.  Judge, jury and executioner, all in one fell swoop.  That should bother you.  It certainly bothers me.

Oh, Mr. al-Awlaki was probably a bad guy, make no mistake about it, but we're better than that.  We don't jettison the Constitution because it's a bit inconvenient.

Well, actually, we did jettison the Constitution.  I should have said, "We mustn't jettison the Constitution because it's a bit inconvenient."

Here are 3 observations from a week ago that are so much better than what I could have written:

1.  The Rude Pundit:

Sometimes there's cases where the liberal rubber hits reality road and you gotta decide whether your beliefs are beliefs or just conveniences based on circumstances and filled with holes. See, if you believe in due process, if you believe in innocent until proven guilty, if you believe in trials, if you believe in the Constitution, then you have to believe that all of us have those rights. And that includes presumptive terrorists, like Anwar al-Awlaki, whose death by U.S. drone attack is being danced over by the supposed upholders of the very laws his murder violates.

2.  Glenn Greenwald:

When Awlaki's father sought a court order barring Obama from killing his son, the DOJ argued, among other things, that such decisions were "state secrets" and thus beyond the scrutiny of the courts.  He was simply ordered killed by the President: his judge, jury and executioner. 

What's most striking about this is not that the U.S. Government has seized and exercised exactly the power the Fifth Amendment was designed to bar ("No person shall be deprived of life without due process of law"), and did so in a way that almost certainly violates core First Amendment protections (questions that will now never be decided in a court of law). What's most amazing is that its citizens will not merely refrain from objecting, but will stand and cheer the U.S. Government's new power to assassinate their fellow citizens, far from any battlefield, literally without a shred of due process from the U.S. Government.  Many will celebrate the strong, decisive, Tough President's ability to eradicate the life of Anwar al-Awlaki -- including many who just so righteously condemned those Republican audience members as so terribly barbaric and crass for cheering Governor Perry's execution of scores of serial murderers and rapists -- criminals who were at least given a trial and appeals and the other trappings of due process before being killed.

3.  Marcy Wheeler, aka emptywheel:

While everyone's talking about having "got" this latest bogeyman, I just wanted to remind folks the kind of language the Administration used to explain why it could kill an American citizen with no due process.

"Accordingly, although it would not be appropriate to make a comprehensive statement as to the circumstances in which he might lawfully do so, it is sufficient to note that, consistent with the AUMF, and other applicable law, including the inherent right to self-defense, the President is authorized to use necessary and appropriate force against AQAP operational leaders, in compliance with applicable domestic and international legal requirements, including the laws of war."

As to the actual evidence that Anwar al-Awlaki was a terrorist? That's a state secret.

 

The bottom line is we need to adhere to a simple rule that even kids on the playground can understand: you don't get to have 2 sets of laws, one for the the baddest of the bad, wherein we can take shortcuts just because it's expedient, and another set for the rest of us.

The beauty of the Constitution is that it is pretty agnostic: the law of the land applies even to those who would spit upon it.  We are better than that.

 

Stupid Moves in Ultrarunning

In the late 90s and early 00s (did we ever settle on calling that decade "the aughts"?), my job took me on multiple trips to Anniston, AL.  I was working with the IT (telephone and LAN) people at Fort McClellan to transfer their capabilities from Fort McClellan, which was closing under the Base Realignment and Closure program, to Fort Leonard Wood, MO and Fort Jackson, SC.

I always tried to craft my travel logistics so that I'd have time for a long trail run.  Many times I just ran on Fort McClellan proper--they had much backcountry full of jeep trails etc--but I also was able to run in the Mount Cheaha State Park area.

On this particular Stupid Move occasion my flight arrived around noon at Birmingham (as an aside, I recall from my elementary social studies from 45-50 years ago that Birmingham had the nickname "The Pittsburgh of the South" due to its steel industry, but the AL locals instead preferred to call Pittsburgh "The Birmingham of the North").

I drove straight down to the Cheaha area.  This website describes some of the trails. I recall parking at Lake Chinnabee, I think, then running uphill on the Chinnabee Silent Trail past some nice stream cascades, thru the Turnipseed Camp, and up the ridge to the Pinhoti Trail (approx 6 miles to this point).  Then somehow I joined the Cave Creek Trail (there may have been an Odum Trail in there somewhere as well) and headed north on it to Cheaha State Park, then returned south along the Pinhoti Trail.  Enroute along the Pinhoti was the wreckage of a small airplane crash.  I think the Cave Creek Trail--Pinhoti Trail loop was about 10 miles, which put me back at the top of the Chinnabee Silent trail.

Anyway, although this was a spectacularly beautiful trail run, what made this run spectacularly stupid was that I did not bother to tell anyone where I was going.  And up on the exposed ridge that afternoon, a major thunderstorm brewed up, with lightning and thunder crashing CLOSE by, but I felt compelled to run thru it anyway.  I realized that if I didn't keep pressing on I was going to get up against sunset.  The trails ran slower than I thought, plus I had not brought a flashlight.  I was extremely relieved to reach the Chinnabee Silent trailhead, knowing I only had 6 miles, all downhill, to run in under an hour.  I fairly flew down the Chinnabee to my rental car, arriving there just when it was about too dark to run without artificial light.

Had lightning nailed me, or I turned an ankle, or got lost, whatever...that was a spooky experience that I took to heart for years, until this more recent stupid solo trail run.

 

What Happened to Him When He Was a Boy?

As usual, the Writer's Almanac does not disappoint.  I love when each day's installment shows up in my inbox.  This offering from Sunday 2 Oct was a good one.
The notion of killing living organisms for sport--for sport--appalls and horrifies me.  I will never understand it.  Never.

Game, by Maxine Kumin

Before he died

Archduke Franz Ferdinand,
gunned down in Sarajevo
to jump-start World War I,
bragged he had shot three
thousand stags and a miscellany
of foxes, geese, wolves, and boars
driven toward him by beaters,
stout men he ordered to flush
creatures from their cover
into his sights, a tradition
the British aristocracy
carried on, further aped
by rich Americans
from Teddy R. to Ernest H.,
something Supreme
Court Justice Antonin
Scalia, pudgy son of Sicilian
immigrants, indulged in
when, years later, he had
scores of farm-raised birds
beaten from their cages and scared
up for him to shoot down
which brought him an inner joy.
What happened
to him when he was a boy?

[From Where I Live: New and Selected Poems, (c) W.W. Norton & Company, 2010.]

 I am so grateful for my life, for the opportunity to live, and I assume that other living things feel the same. Insofar as possible I try to refrain from unnecessarily taking the life of even so small a thing a spider. I often capture them in the house and release them outside (although I have no compunction against swatting flies and mosquitoes, plus I eat meat, so, yes, I am a hypocrite).

What did happen to these folks when they were children?

 

Blues Cruise 50K Results

Sunday, on sloppy trails, I ran a 6:59, about an hour slower than last time.  The trail is a one-way 31 mile circumnavigation of Blue Marsh Lake northeast of Reading, PA, a U.S. Army Corps of Engineers flood control/recreational project.

The first half was tough because it was largely flat and the trail was a slippery, muddy mess in many places.  It had rained all night, though thankfully the rain held off during the race.  I definitely should have worn a shoe with a much more aggressive tread.  When the description of the course says "single track" it means it.  In many sections, the trail is in open grassy fields and literally is only a foot or even less wide, a track made lower than the surrounding ground level via the erosion action of feet and trail bikes.  The water has nowhere to go.

To run in a narrow track like this is sometimes dicey under normal conditions, much less under slippery conditions.  Saw this on Oprah one time: I was forced to do the "stripper walk" (or in this case the "stripper run") where you place the foot that you are extending directly in front of the planted foot, or even cross it in front of and laterally past the planted foot.

Not a natural gait, I can tell you.

The second half got easier as it was more in the woods with many ups and downs, so the trail drained much better.  There was one major stream crossing where the bridge had been lost due to flooding, about 30' wide wade in thigh deep water.  It wasn't particularly cold and did wash off the mud (until the passage of another half mile completely muddied them again!).  Oh, and at one of the late aid stations I ate what arguably is the best aid station food that I have ever had: bacon and fried peirogies.  It hit the spot like nothing else and sat oh-so-good in my belly.

I went to the race with a buddy who clocked a great time, but I'd better not identify him any more specifically than that.  Why?  Despite have run many trail hours in training and official ultras, during this race he pooped outdoors for the very first time ever. At the risk of too-much-information (but we're all athletes here, right?), I tend to be a pooping fool, like clockwork, when I hit the trails. The woodsy ambiance seems to physic me, I guess.  As with anything, you get practiced at it and it needn't be any kind of big deal.

My time was solidly in the last quartile.  That's tough getting used to, but I'm realistic enough to know that at age 59 I've slowed and the deterioration will continue.  Sure beats the alternative, though!

The next day (Monday) I did a 6 mile walk/run with my noontime buddies to loosen up. I was creaky at the beginning but quickly warmed up.   I am not averse to a couple days off or even a week of R&R after a big effort, but I just felt like running the day after. 

I can stop any time I want, seriously.

 

Winner of the Banned Book Contest Announced

I had a number of good responses to my giveaway contest of The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins.  See here for the original post.

Basically I asked readers to tell me why they deserved the book, and I'd evaluate using some mysterious subjective criteria known but to me, and announce the winner.

I should first say up front, thanks to all who took the time to write!

Well, Mister Tristan (the blog, not the 3-year-old human being), is nominally about the softer side of Ultrarunning, a sport I love.  Rather than the hard-core technical how-to stuff, I love to write about the thinking and the philosophy and why the sport matters.  But if you scroll around here you'll quickly see that I'm a lefty, progressive blogger who quickly gets outraged at the erosion of civil liberties and social injustice in general.

That's why R. J. Yinger's response takes the book this year.  It's a short tale, steeped in nostalgia, and directly addresses censorship that personally affected a young man.  Here it is in its entirety:

I was in the seventh grade at St Anthony’s Grade School Dayton, Ohio. It was the ancient times when I still lived on Glen Rd., before our house was magically transported to John Glenn Rd.

It was the first Wednesday of the month when the bookmobile was coming. Most of your readers will not relate but grade schools didn’t have libraries and the branch closest to my house was long bike ride along narrow busy streets. Librarians were respected, books more so.

I boarded the bus to get my six library books for the month. My grandfather had a great library mostly murder mysteries and my parents were college grads dad on the GI bill so books littered the house but library books were special. Science fiction was my genre, I got 4 Tom Swift Jr. books per year from Grandpa since learning to read but at the library the stacks would call out their recommendations. This day Mein Kampf called to me. I remember it was thin, just a snack.    

Twelve, is that when we begin to die? Standing in line checking out, Mein Kampf removed from my pile. That is for adults take your five books and wait for enlightenment young man you child. I remember the rest of the day being red. I remember riding my bike to the library. I remember my hands freezing cold (who knew of wind chill). I remember searching the card catalogue gathering the much thicker volume from the shelf, holding it in my hand openly, defiantly as I exited the building. I don't remember riding home or even reading the book.

It is still on my shelf and I will return it if I win the contest.

Mr. Yinger--well done!  Please email me with your snail mail address so I can get the book on its way to you:   MisterTristanBlog@gmail.com

 

The Stranger

[NOTE: UPDATED POST TO INCLUDE TITLE]

From the snarky site The Stranger, complete with a nifty graphic, let’s play Jeopardy:

Contestant: “I’ll take Republicans for $800, Alex.”

Trebek: “The answer is: Bring the fetus to term, then kill the mother. Every life is sacred."

Contestant: “How would Republicans deal with an uninsured, unborn fetus, gestating inside a death-row inmate?”

Close to being over the top, but it neatly points out the odd fetishes that some folks have with fetuses and the death penalty.

 

Cats in Art: Peasant Family in an Interior (Le Nain)

From my continuing weekly Sunday series of cats in art. I'm using some ideas from the coffee table book, The Cat in Art, by Stefano Zuffi. 

Image credit Terminartors, here.  Louis, Antoine and Matthieu Le Nain, Peasant Family in an Interior, 1648, Oil on canvas, 44" x 62", held by Musee du Louvre, Paris.

Zuffi explains:

Even the little black-and-white cat, half hidden behind the lid of an earthenware pot, seems to be watching the viewer.  Is it also listening to the music, or is it a bit frightened by it?  Or is it simply hiding from the thin little dog, enraptured by the music like everyone else?

To me, the cat looks skittery, ready to bolt if necessary.  It does not seem to be relaxed.  Of course, maybe it just doesn't like the music being played and is merely waiting for a better selection.

 

Blues Cruise 50K 2011

Although I blog about Ultrarunning (at least in part!), I only run a couple of organized events a year.  This spring I ran the Capon Valley 50K, and the Blues Cruise 50K is tomorrow.  That'll be it for 2011.

Race web site is here.

This'll be my third running, and I am particularly excited about this one.  The organizers have changed the course from an out-n-back to a one-way circumnavigation around Blue Marsh Lake.  So while the first 15.5 miles will be very familiar to me from previous runnings, the last half will be completely new. 

For that reason--the newness factor--I think the last half will run fast, regardless of the actual terrain.  However, I'm pretty sure that when I say the last half will run fast, I'm speaking figuratively, not literally.  Truth be told, I expect to slow down significantly, but believe that it'll still go quickly and feel fast. 

Mind over matter, you see.  Results on Monday.