Both men suffered severe back pain for which they underwent unsuccessful surgery, and both were accused of fraudulently obtaining more narcotics than they really needed. But while Limbaugh remains a free man and will not even face criminal charges if he continues to attend drug treatment for the next 18 months (something he was planning to do anyway), Paey is serving a 25-year sentence in a Florida prison.Limbaugh was accused of "doctor shopping," getting painkillers from several physicians who were not aware of the other prescriptions. Although he denies the charge, he admits he became addicted to the painkillers, which by definition means he was taking them for reasons the law does not recognize as medically legitimate--as an "escape" (his word) from stress or unhappiness.
Japanese Foreign Minister Taro Aso was in Washington for meetings on Wednesday, and he took time to speak to the media and the public at an event at the Willard Hotel.
There was considerable interest in Aso’s talk, judging from the many microphones at the podium and cameras in the back. And no wonder: if Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi steps down later this year, as is widely expected, Aso would be a leading candidate to replace him. The security retinue of Mr. Aso is already comparable to that of a head of state, judging from the number of people with earpieces standing around the room who showed absolutely no interest in what he was saying.
And yet, Aso’s remarks didn’t merit mention on the front pages of either the Washington Post or the Washington Times. Then again, it didn’t make it into the middle pages of those papers either. The big news in the capital city of a country waging two conventional wars (and numerous smaller unconventional wars) was that the Washington Nationals baseball team had new owners. Other cities, and other papers, also seemed disinterested. After an admittedly cursory glance, I found no mention of Aso's remarks in the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal. (By way of comparison, today's Financial Times has two stories, a news article and an editorial, about the speech.)
Betsy McCaughey digs into some of the details on the effects on business of Massachusetts’ brave, new health insurance experiment:
Say, for example, you open a restaurant and don’t provide health coverage. If the chef’s spouse or child is rushed to the hospital and can’t pay because they don’t have insurance, you — the employer — are responsible for up to 100% of the cost of that medical care. There is no cap on your obligation. Once the costs reach $50,000, the state will start billing you and fine you $5,000 a week for every week you are late in filling out the paperwork on your uncovered employees (Section 44). These provisions are onerous enough to motivate the owners of small businesses to limit their full‐time workforce to 10 people, or even to lay employees off.
What else is surprising about this new law? Union shops are exempt (Section 32).
Of course, in states like Maryland (where I live), the possibility of killing off jobs in small businesses would hardly deter the passage of similar laws. As far as politicians here are concerned, undermining the private economy is not a legislative bug. It’s a feature.
I've just returned from a fascinating week in Russia and Ukraine. I was in Moscow last week to deliver some lectures regarding my book on globalization, Against the Dead Hand, which was recently translated into Russian. From there I traveled down to Kiev to improve Cato's contacts with liberal (in the everywhere-but-America sense of that word) organizations there.
My overwhelming impression from the visit: what a difference an oil boom makes! Now in the fifteenth year since the collapse of the Soviet Union, neither Russia nor Ukraine has had much success in making the transition from communism to a viable market economy (according to the latest Economic Freedom of the World report, Ukraine ranks 103rd in the world, with Russia trailing just behind at 115th). Despite this and many other similarities, there is one critical difference between the two countries: Russia has oil and gas, and Ukraine doesn't.
Substantive due process cases make normally careful commentators sloppy. As many readers know, the D.C. Circuit ruled on Tuesday that "a terminally ill, mentally competent adult patient's informed access to potentially life-saving . . . new drugs . . . warrants protection under the Due Process Clause." Comes the Washington Post editorial board with a slapdash discussion of the case. The Post argues that the decision pulls a new constitutional right "out of thin air"—one that could "create a right to LSD or marijuana."
Golly. Is that right? Now, there's no denying the Court's substantive due process line of cases is controversial. But this decision didn't pop out of thin air and its not going to legalize marijuana. [Warning: lengthy legal discussion follows.]
Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (AKA TomKat) had a baby last month, Suri Holmes. Apropos, this week the Medicare program’s public trustees reported that even though only 7 percent of TomKat’s federal income taxes now go toward Medicare, when Suri turns 15 years old, 25 percent of the federal income taxes levied on her modeling earnings will go straight to Medicare. By the time Suri turns 25 years old, 40 percent of the federal income taxes levied on her book deal will help finance Medicare benefits for her dear old dad, who will then be 68 years old.
As Tim Lynch and I detail in our new study Power Surge: The Constitutional Record of George W. Bush, the Bush administration has advanced an extraordinarily broad theory of presidential power during the war on terrorism. The claim that shows up again and again—in the torture memos, in the enemy combatant cases, in the wiretapping controversy—is that the president’s “inherent executive authority” and powers as commander in chief allow him to override validly enacted statutes that proscribe tactics he wants to pursue in the war on terror.
But surely there are limits to this theory, boundaries that even a wartime president cannot cross, right? Well, if there are, administration officials have been pretty cagey about identifying them. At a Senate Judiciary Committee hearing in February, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales stonewalled like a Supreme Court nominee when asked about limits to the president's power. To questions like "Can the president suspend the application of the Posse Comitatus Act legally?" he'd offer only, "Those are very, very difficult questions. And for me to answer those questions, sort of, off the cuff, I think would not be responsible."
In April, before the House Judiciary Committee, Gonzales suggested that the president has inherent authority to wiretap Americans' domestic communications--calls and emails where both parties are in the United States--without a warrant. That day, the Justice Department issued a "nonclarification clarification" of the AG's remarks: "The attorney general's comments today should not be interpreted to suggest the existence or nonexistence of a domestic program or whether any such program would be lawful under the existing legal analysis." Anyone looking for a straight answer on limits to "inherent executive authority" would be well-advised to look elsewhere.