Niccolo Machiavelli, the father of modern politics, warns in his masterwork, The Discourses:
All those who have written upon civil institutions demonstrate…that whoever desires to found a state and give it laws, must start with assuming that all men are bad and ever ready to display their vicious nature, whenever they may find occasion for it.
If their evil disposition remains concealed for a time, it must be attributed to some unknown reason; and we must assume that it lacked occasion to show itself. But time, which has been said to be the father of all truth, does not fail to bring it to light.
Niccolo Machiavelli
Where the crimes of corporate employers are concerned, we do not have to wait for their evil disposition to reveal itself. It has been fully revealed for decades.
It’s time to recognize that a country can be betrayed for other than political reasons. It can be sold out for economic ones, too.
Trea$on
The United States desperately needs a new definition of treason–one that takes the above-mentioned truth into account.
- Employers who set up offshore accounts to claim their American companies are foreign-owned—and thus exempt from taxes—are traitors.
- Employers who enrich themselves by weakening their country—by throwing millions of qualified workers into the street and moving their plants to other countries—are traitors.
- Employers who systematically violate Federal immigration laws—to hire illegal aliens instead of willing-to-work Americans—are traitors.
And with a new definition of treason should go new penalties–heavy fines and/or prison terms–for those who sell out their country to enrich themselves.
A starting-point must be an all-out campaign to educate voters on the need for major reforms in corporate law.
One non-profit, non-partisan organization that’s already pursuing this is Public Campaign.
Its goal: Eliminating special interest money in American politics by securing publicly-funded elections at local, state and federal levels.
According to its website:
“Twenty-five profitable Fortune 500 companies, some with a history of tax dodging, spent more on lobbying than they paid in federal taxes between 2008 and 2012….
“Over the past five years, these 25 corporations generated nearly $170 billion in combined profits and received $8.7 billion in tax rebates while paying their lobbyists over half a billion ($543 million), an average of nearly $300,000 a day.
“Based on newly released data by Citizens for Tax Justice (CTJ), these 25 companies actually received tax refunds overall those five years.
“So most individual American families and small businesses have bigger tax bills than these corporate giants. Unfortunately, most American families and businesses do not have the lobbying operation and access these 25 companies enjoy.”
25 Companies That Spent More On Lobbyists Than Taxes | Public Campaign
Then comes the list:

Several companies on this list are well-known–and spend millions of dollars on self-glorifying ads every year to convince consumers how wonderful they are.
Among these:
- General Electric
- PG&E Corp.
- Verizon Communications
- Boeing
- Consolidated Edison
- MetroPCS Communications
But non-profit organizations alone can’t mount and sustain the sort of nationwide, bluntly-worded educational effort that’s long overdue.
The United States Government–through such agencies as the Justice Department–should start and maintain a nationwide advertising campaign of its own. Its goal: To educate voters on the real-life greed and public irresponsibility of such corporations.
It should be modeled on the efforts of former Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy to publicize the dangers of organized crime.
During that campaign, he issued the following warning:
“If we do not, on a national scale, attack organized criminals with weapons and techniques as effective as their own, they will destroy us.”
That warning applies equally to criminal corporations.
Robert F. Kennedy
Republicans–and some Democrats–have worked tirelessly to defend the greed of the richest and most privileged 1% of America.
For example, they ingeniously dubbed the estate tax–-which affects only a tiny, rich minority–-“the death tax.” This makes it appear to affect everyone.
As a result, millions of poor and middle-class Americans who will never have to pay a cent in estate taxes vigorously oppose it.
By doing so, they unknowingly support the greed of the very richest Americans who despise the needs of those poorer than themselves.
Democrats should thus cast reform efforts in terms that will prove equally popular. For example:
“Corporate Criminals: Giving You the Best Congress Money Can Buy.”
“De-regulation = Let Criminals Be Criminals.”
“[Name of corporation] Pays a Lower Percentage in Taxes than You.”
“Corporations Are Greedy People, Too”
“Owning a Corporation Shuldn’t Be a License for Treason”
Such an advertising campaign could lay the groundwork for an all-out Federal effort to reign in that greed and irresponsibility thrugh appropriate reform legislation.
It was Stephen Decatur, the naval hero of the War of 1812, who famously said: “Our country, right or wrong.”
Stephen Decatur
Billionaire tax-cheats and their Right-wing allies have coined their own motto: “My wallet–first and always.”




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COPS AND DRUGS
In Bureaucracy, History, Law, Law Enforcement, Social commentary on February 26, 2016 at 12:05 amIt’s a movie that appeared in 1981–making it, for those born in 2000, an oldie.
And it wasn’t a blockbuster, being yanked out of theaters almost as soon as it arrived.
Yet “Prince of the City” remains that rarity–a movie about big-city police that:
It’s based on the real-life case of NYPD Detective Robert Leuci (“Danny Ciello” in the film).
Robert Leuci (“Danny Ciello” in “Prince of the City”)
A member of the elite Special Investigating Unit (SIU) Ciello (played by Treat Williams) volunteers to work undercover against rampant corruption among narcotics agents, attorneys and bail bondsmen.
His motive appears simple: To redeem himself and the NYPD from the corruption he sees everywhere: “These people we take from own us.”
His only condition: “I will never betray cops who’ve been my partners.”
And Assistant US Attorney Rick Cappalino assures Ciello: “We’ll never make you do something you can’t live with.”
As the almost three-hour movie unfolds, Ciello finds–to his growing dismay–that there are a great many things he will have to learn to live with.
Treat Williams as “Danny Ciello”
Although he doesn’t have a hand in it, he’s appalled to learn that Gino Moscone, a former buddy, is going to be arrested for taking bribes from drug dealers.
Confronted by a high-ranking agent for the Federal Drug Enforcement Agency, Moscone refuses to “rat out” his buddies. Instead, he puts his service revolver to his head and blows out his brains.
Ciello is devastated, but the investigation–and film–must go on.
Along the way, he’s suspected by a corrupt cop and bail bondsman of being a “rat” and threatened with death.
He’s about to be wasted in a back alley when his cousin–a Mafia member–suddenly intervenes. The Mafioso tells Ciello’s would-be killers: “You’d better be sure he’s a rat, because people like him.”
At which point, the grotesquely fat bail bondsman–who has been demanding Ciello’s execution–pats Danny on the arm and says, “No hard feelings.”
It is director Sidney Lumet’s way of graphically saying: “Sometimes the bad guys can be good guys–and the good guys can be bad guys.”
Lumet makes it clear that police don’t always operate with the Godlike perfection of cops in TV and films. It’s precisely because his Federal backup agents lost him that Ciello almost became a casualty.
In the end, Ciello becomes a victim of the prosecutorial forces he has unleashed. Although he’s vowed to never testify against his former partners, Ciello finds this is a promise he can’t keep.
Too many of the cops he’s responsible for indicting have implicated him of similar–if not worse–behavior. He’s even suspected of being involved in the theft of 450 pounds of heroin (“the French Connection”) from the police property room.
A sympathetic prosecutor–Mario Vincente in the movie, Rudolph Giuliani in real-life–convinces Ciello that he must finally reveal everything he knows.
Ciello’s had originally claimed to have done “three things” as a corrupt narcotics agent. By the time his true confessions are over, he’s admitted to scores of felonies.
Ciello then tries to convince his longtime SIU partners to do the same. One of them commits suicide. Another tells Ciello to screw himself: “I’m not going to shoot myself and I’m not going to rat out my friends.”
To his surprise, Ciello finds himself admiring his corrupt former partner for being willing to stand up to the Federal case-agents and prosecutors demanding his head.
The movie ends with a double dose of irony.
First: Armed with Ciello’s confessions, an attorney whom Ciello had successfully testified against appeals his conviction. But the judge rules Ciello’s admitted misdeeds to be “collateral,” apart from the main evidence in the case, and affirms the conviction.
Second: Ciello is himself placed on trial–of a sort. A large group of assistant U.S. attorneys gathers to debate whether their prize “canary” should be indicted. If he is, his confessions will ensure his conviction.
Some prosecutors argue forcefully that Ciello is a corrupt law enforcement officer who has admitted to more than 40 cases of perjury–among other crimes. How can the government use him to convict others and not address the criminality in his own past?
Other prosecutors argue that Ciello voluntarily risked his life–physically and professionally–to expose rampant police corruption. He deserves a better deal than to be cast aside by those who have made so many cases through his testimony.
Eventually, the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York makes his decision: “The government declines to prosecute Detective Daniel Ciello.”
It is Lumet’s way of showing that the decision to prosecute is not always an easy or objective one.
The movie ends with Ciello now teaching surveillance classes at the NYPD Academy.
A student asks: “Are you the Detective Ciello?”
“I’m Detective Ciello.”
“I don’t think I have anything to learn from you.” And he walks out.
Is Danny Ciello–again, Robert Leuci in real-life–a hero, a villain, or some combination of the two? It is with this ambiguity that the film ends–an ambiguity that each viewer must resolve for himself.
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