Currently before our almost entirely dysfunctional and harmful national legislators in Washington D.C. is a bill designed to release thousands of the most prolific, violent criminals in the nation, based on bizarre and utterly false theories, such as the idea that our prisons are overflowing with non-violent, helpless victims who merely smoked a little pot. The invaluable Heather Mac Donald has a indispensable article at City Journal that explains reality.  In fact, it is the transcript of her recent testimony to the congressional committee primarily responsible for trying to release a veritable plague of locust on the nation’s helpless crops. Consider:

Nothing in this dominant narrative is true. Prison remains a lifetime achievement award for persistence in criminal offending. Drug enforcement is not the driving factor in the prison system, violent crime is. Even during the most rapid period of prison growth from 1980 to 1990, increased sentences for violent crime played a larger role than drug sentences in the incarceration build up. Since 1999, violent offenders have accounted for all of the increase in the national prison census.

Today, only 16 percent of state prisoners are serving time for drug offenses—nearly all of them for trafficking. Drug possession accounts for only 3.6 percent of state prisoners. Drug offenders make up a larger portion of the federal prison caseload—about 50 percent—but only 13 percent of the nation’s prisoners are under federal control. In 2014, less than 1 percent of sentenced drug offenders in federal court were convicted of simple drug possession; the rest were convicted of trafficking.

It must be noted that those in prison for possession of drugs are–with virtually no exceptions–absolutely not first-time offenders caught using a bit of their tiny, personal stash, but people with long and distinguished criminal careers, or people whose crimes are recorded as possession, but were plea-bargained down from trafficking and other far more serious, numerous, related offenses.

By all means, take the link and read MacDonald’s marvelous scholarship. If you wish to be informed on this issue, there is no better or more accurate source.

“But how,” you might be asking, gentle readers, “can anyone imagine that releasing thousands of dangerous, vicious criminals, people who will surely create thousands of victims, some of whom will be raped, maimed and killed, a good thing? Consider this report from The New York Post, which well displays the Progressive mindset regarding crime and criminals. I’m not sure anything can adequately explain it to the rational and sane.  I suspect that some of you, gentle readers, well-versed in Progressive ideology, will be appalled. So-called conservatives or Republicans—whatever that means these days—will have to make their own excuses for going along with this sort of insanity.



But writer Chaya Babu cranked the guilty gut-check to 11 last week when, reflecting back on being the victim of a crime last year at a cafe in Ditmas Park, Brooklyn, she made excuses for the man who stole her laptop at gunpoint.

The story was a shocking one. Last November, Ditmas Park experienced a rash of armed robberies. What made the one at the Lark Cafe unique is that the gunman didn’t target the register.

Instead, he took all the laptops of a writer’s group that was meeting there.

So what did this group of writers do? Did they use the power of the pen to harry and track down the miscreant? Inveigh against armed robbery? Oh you of too much faith:

In the weeks following the robbery, she and her friends worked on ‘finding space to take into consideration the broader social and economic circumstances surrounding the incident’ and ‘cultivated our sense of compassion toward the robber, whom we imagined must have been acting out of dire need.

A show of hands, please, gentle readers: How many of you would actually think about–to say nothing of saying–“finding space to take into consideration the broader social and economic circumstances surrounding the incident?” How many of you would speak of having “cultivated our sense of compassion toward the robber?” How many of you know anyone that thinks or speaks like that? Do you consider them to be sane? Minimally functional? Oh, but this is not the limit of their dysfunction:

Babu quotes another writer who was robbed that night as saying, ‘I didn’t ultimately think that person posed a threat. I didn’t feel afraid of the person; I felt more just afraid of the weapon.

Now we’re on absolutely familiar progressive ground. It’s not the fault of the criminal; he’s just a helpless victim of society’s lack of diversity, compassion, gender equality, racism (insert your favorite “ism” here), and besides, Republicans still exist, so how could he do anything but rob people of their consumer electronics at gunpoint? But the gun! That evil, dangerous gun, that’s what’s really scary! And here’s the cherry on top of the excrement tart:

The kicker comes when Babu notes that ‘many of us in the group agreed that in some respects we identified more with our robber than with the characters we were portrayed to be’ in media stories about the crime.

Right. They identified with the criminal, not themselves. But of course, there had to be a blameless victim of the gun, so they turned an evil thug who very well might have killed one or all of them, or may very well kill the next person he robs, into the victim they cannot be because they are privileged, and the criminal was acting out of “dire need.” Probably dire need for his next heroin fix.

One suspects they are all white and therefore must be eternally guilty for that particular accident of birth. One also suspects the robber was not white, though the article makes no mention of race, likely for that reason.

This, gentle readers, is what happens when people elect politicians that think criminals and jihadists their constituency. This is what happens when people can’t tell the difference between good and evil, and expend enormous energy to deny evil’s very existence.

Richard Pryor did a particularly biting bit of satire in his stage act, wherein he told a story about visiting a pen, and rappin’ with the brothers, gettin’ down with his people, complete with the expected vocal rhythms, the shucking and jiving, and oh-so cool progressive faux-concern. Suddenly, the punch line, accompanied with absolutely stiff as-a-board posture and a look of abject horror: “thank God we got pens!” The point, equally suddenly crystal clear as Pryor masterfully mimicked the psychopaths and sociopaths he met there, was that the most important function of prisons is not rehabilitation, but keeping those people away from the rest of us, because when they are locked up, they are not stealing, beating, raping, maiming and murdering us, which is what they do, what they are, what they live for.

Pryor (terrified): “ Why did you kill the whole family?”

Psychopath (with a disinterested shrug): “They wuz home.”

In case, gentle readers, you weren’t sure how people could think releasing the most violent and prolific criminals in the nations to prey on us all to be a good idea, now you know. You understand how such people think, and that even when they too are robbed by sociopaths, they aren’t capable of learning from the experience, because even their lives aren’t as valuable–to them!–as their ideology.  This is why Hillary Clinton’s incompetence and inherent dishonesty and utter lack of character don’t bother progressives in the least.  Reality is what they decide it is from moment to moment–it is not objective and stable–and the lives of fellow Americans in hell holes like Benghazi must seem insignificant, beneath consideration, when they think so little of their own, when they see their lives as abstractions to be discussed among the fellow elite.

Do you now have a better appreciation for the necessity of voting? Do you still believe there is no difference between Republicans and Democrats? Oh, the difference may be small, to be sure, but as long as there is one, we’re better off electing people who don’t reflexively identify with people that would be delighted to kill them–or us–just for fun.