The Attribution of Miracles

The US Senate has returned from their winter recess. Next week, the NFL’s trudge through the bitter cold of Green Bay culminates with their Super Bowl in balmy Arizona.

The juxtaposition of these two events, one beginning and one ending, revolves around what is the most enduring story of the NFL’s season. And no, it is not the Patriot’s date with destiny. The incident to which I make reference is the injury to Kevin Everett. Everett is the NFL special teams player for the Buffalo Bills who broke his neck in the season’s first game. His recovery has been…well; many journalists called it a miracle. I believe, however, that fortunate is the better word.

As a moderator at Care Cure Community, the world’s largest website devoted to spinal cord injury (SCI), I’ve learned to listen to the voices of those living with paralysis. I know that the learning curve to understanding spinal cord injuries is long. That, however, should not be an excuse to persist in dumbing down the conversation.

White House reactions to recent developments in stem cell science and Iraq shroud themselves in a fog of political discourse. Pundits busily cut pieces to fit the bizarre picture puzzle of what passes for policy on Pennsylvania Avenue. As the father of a quadriplegic son and uncle to a nephew in Iraq, I find the president’s domestic and foreign strategies to be little more than fabricated curiosities.

Acolytes trumpet the lull of violence in Iraq and herald the latest breakthrough in regenerative medicine. In each instance, the rigid dichotomy, between war and reason and science and religion, disguises itself as foresight ripening into wisdom. Unmentioned amidst this re-reading of the decision-making are the false pretenses for going to war and the flagrant deception of an unsuspecting public about embryonic stem cell research. (ESCR)  

Hope Floats
The Christopher and Dana Reeve Paralysis Act will be five years old on September 25th. Unfortunately, no one is celebrating because it is five years still in the making and not five years providing vital programs enhancing treatments and cures. I know. My family lives the life.

When my son broke his neck in 2002, this bill was the lifeboat to which we attached ourselves in the roiled sea of a spinal injury. We reasoned that only a commitment on a national scale could make a difference in his lifetime.

The Politics of Hope

Three weeks ago, on June 20th, the politics of hope clashed with the politics of fear and lost. For those who dare to dream, President Bush’s recent veto of embryonic stem cell research is a nightmare.

As the father of a young quadriplegic living the life of paralysis, I am incensed by the ongoing waste of precious time. Yesterday, former Surgeon General Richard H. Carmona testified before the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform. He detailed the suppression of informed consent on science during his term as the nation’s chief advisor on public health. Though his testimony was chilling, this is not news to those of us knowledgeable about chronic illnesses or injuries.

The commutation of Scooter Libby’s prison sentence surfaces, like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, from the mire of neocon collusion. With this outrage, our president continues to plumb the depths of arrogance with impunity. Bush said his action still ''leaves in place a harsh punishment for Mr. Libby.''

Really? Should we shed crocodile tears for the $250,000 fine Mr. Libby paid? Anyone who can plunk down that amount of money with a personally signed cashier check hardly warrants fiscal pity. How dumb does the president think the American public is?

Pretty dumb, apparently. Last month, another 101 United States soldiers lost their lives in Iraq. “We’re fighting them there so we won’t have to fight them here.” Where is the reality behind that fable? Funny, the last time I checked, the Al Qaeda navy was dry-docked in the Hindu Kush. The president asserts, on the other hand, that the Army and Marines defend the tenets of Democracy, including the rule of law. Yet commuting the sentence of Scooter Libby seems to taint those ideals