Welcome to DU!
The truly grassroots left-of-center political community where regular people, not algorithms, drive the discussions and set the standards.
Join the community:
Create a free account
Support DU (and get rid of ads!):
Become a Star Member
Latest Breaking News
General Discussion
The DU Lounge
All Forums
Issue Forums
Culture Forums
Alliance Forums
Region Forums
Support Forums
Help & Search
Hightower: Can Jeb Bush Even Spell Integrity?
Jim Hightower knows the score on Jeb Bush.November 4, 2015
The former Florida governor cashed in big time from his spin through government.
If you’re a presidential aspirant and you have to tell people you’re a person of integrity, chances are you’re not.
Those odds get worse if you have to hire someone else to attest to your honor. How intriguing, then, that Kristy Campbell — a spokeswoman for Jeb Bush’s presidential campaign — felt moved to tell us that “Jeb’s record” is “one of integrity.”
This testimonial from a paid flack follows the still-evolving news story that Bush immediately cashed in on his name and state government contacts after leaving the Florida governor’s office in 2007. Jeb became a richly paid legislative consultant and board member to major corporations that had received lucrative benefits from his own administration.
With cynical chutzpah, this presidential wannabe now campaigns as an ethics reformer, piously preaching against the corrupt coziness between moneyed interests and government officials. But in the last eight years, this scion of the Bush dynasty has pocketed at least $18 million in personal payment from his own quiet spins through the revolving door of government-corporate corruption.
Only four months out of office, for example, Jeb got a nice sinecure as a board member for the insurance giant Tenet Healthcare, which ran several of Florida’s private hospitals under the state Medicare program. In 2006, Tenet was found to have cheated patients and taxpayers with more than $1 billion in overcharges. To settle this malfeasance, the corporation paid only $7 million.
Meanwhile, Tenet recently gushed that it benefited greatly from Bush’s “extensive background in government service” and “his perspectives on public policy and social issues.” In heartfelt gratitude, this one corporation alone has put more than $2 million in Bush’s pocket.
Those odds get worse if you have to hire someone else to attest to your honor. How intriguing, then, that Kristy Campbell — a spokeswoman for Jeb Bush’s presidential campaign — felt moved to tell us that “Jeb’s record” is “one of integrity.”
This testimonial from a paid flack follows the still-evolving news story that Bush immediately cashed in on his name and state government contacts after leaving the Florida governor’s office in 2007. Jeb became a richly paid legislative consultant and board member to major corporations that had received lucrative benefits from his own administration.
With cynical chutzpah, this presidential wannabe now campaigns as an ethics reformer, piously preaching against the corrupt coziness between moneyed interests and government officials. But in the last eight years, this scion of the Bush dynasty has pocketed at least $18 million in personal payment from his own quiet spins through the revolving door of government-corporate corruption.
Only four months out of office, for example, Jeb got a nice sinecure as a board member for the insurance giant Tenet Healthcare, which ran several of Florida’s private hospitals under the state Medicare program. In 2006, Tenet was found to have cheated patients and taxpayers with more than $1 billion in overcharges. To settle this malfeasance, the corporation paid only $7 million.
Meanwhile, Tenet recently gushed that it benefited greatly from Bush’s “extensive background in government service” and “his perspectives on public policy and social issues.” In heartfelt gratitude, this one corporation alone has put more than $2 million in Bush’s pocket.
(via OtherWords)
When will the mainstream decide, if ever, to start vetting Jeb Bush's shady record? The NYT made a stab at it recently. Just a drop in an enormous and dark pool.
You'd think the voters might like to have as much information as possible about candidates running for the highest office in the land.
I want to be very wealthy, and I'll be glad to tell you when I've accomplished that goal.
John Ellis Bush, son of the president
That quote is from over 25 years ago. And that's what it's all about with Jeb Bush.
Always.
We will not allow him to rip us off from his lust of presidential power.
7 replies
= new reply since forum marked as read
= new reply since forum marked as read
That was a great read as well, malaise, thanks!
'I'll Be The Judge of That'
How Jeb Bush perpetuated the Sunshine State's war on black voters
(via MotherJones)
King Jeb had spoken.
More:
Yet another issue that Donald Trump could bring into the GOP debate next week.... how does Jeb! Bush justify his own actions in disenfranchising so many thousands of predominately African American voters in 2000 and 2004?
Of course, the mainstream media could jump in there too. .....Nah.
'I'll Be The Judge of That'
How Jeb Bush perpetuated the Sunshine State's war on black voters
Shortly after midnight on September 14, 2000, James Ghent slipped out of his Miami home, climbed into his car with a suit, a toothbrush, and a change of underwear, and drove nearly 500 miles to Tallahassee to ask Jeb Bush for his rights back.
The journey, he hoped, would help him close the door on a fraught relationship with the law that stretched back to the mid-1960s.
.....
Enough was enough. Ghent completed his final prison sentence in the early 1990s and his parole in 1995. He got clean. He remarried and raised a family. He went back to school for a degree in radiography.
But like everyone convicted of a felony in Florida, Ghent permanently lost his right to vote, serve on a jury, and run for office. The only way to regain these rights was to petition the governor for clemency. Ghent believed voting "should always be a right," but he was also motivated by economic concerns. He couldn't receive a professional license to practice radiography unless the governor granted his petition. And so on that September morning, Ghent descended into the basement of the state Capitol with dozens of other petitioners for a unique Florida ritual: ex-felons entreating the governor and members of his cabinet for the restoration of their civil rights.
These hearings, held four times annually, begin promptly at 9 a.m. One by one, ex-offenders like Ghent approach a podium, where they have five minutes to make their case. A red light signals their time is up. If the governor recommends clemency, and if a majority of the cabinet members agree—and they almost always do—the ex-offender's civil rights are restored. If the governor feels otherwise, the petitioner returns home without the full privileges of citizenship.
Ghent was one of the last petitioners on the docket. His hopes rose and fell with the fortunes of the men and women before him. He compared their crimes with his own. Fearing he might miss his turn if he strayed to the cafeteria, he limited his breakfast and lunch to the slim pickings from a nearby vending machine. By the time his name was called, he was racked with stress.
Bush issued his verdict as soon as Ghent concluded his pitch. "I'm going to deny the restoration of civil rights," he said. He wanted to see Ghent remain on the straight and narrow a bit longer, to prove he had really changed his ways. "I hope you come back, and I wish you well."
Fifteen years later, Ghent remembers the sting of those words. "He was very dismissive," says Ghent. The ex-felon wanted to push back against Bush's decision. But he simply said, "Thank you," and turned away.
Ghent was destined to remain an unwilling member of an unlucky club: the legions of Florida citizens—disproportionately African Americans, like him—who since the Civil War have been barred from the democratic process because of past convictions.
.....
The journey, he hoped, would help him close the door on a fraught relationship with the law that stretched back to the mid-1960s.
.....
Enough was enough. Ghent completed his final prison sentence in the early 1990s and his parole in 1995. He got clean. He remarried and raised a family. He went back to school for a degree in radiography.
But like everyone convicted of a felony in Florida, Ghent permanently lost his right to vote, serve on a jury, and run for office. The only way to regain these rights was to petition the governor for clemency. Ghent believed voting "should always be a right," but he was also motivated by economic concerns. He couldn't receive a professional license to practice radiography unless the governor granted his petition. And so on that September morning, Ghent descended into the basement of the state Capitol with dozens of other petitioners for a unique Florida ritual: ex-felons entreating the governor and members of his cabinet for the restoration of their civil rights.
These hearings, held four times annually, begin promptly at 9 a.m. One by one, ex-offenders like Ghent approach a podium, where they have five minutes to make their case. A red light signals their time is up. If the governor recommends clemency, and if a majority of the cabinet members agree—and they almost always do—the ex-offender's civil rights are restored. If the governor feels otherwise, the petitioner returns home without the full privileges of citizenship.
Ghent was one of the last petitioners on the docket. His hopes rose and fell with the fortunes of the men and women before him. He compared their crimes with his own. Fearing he might miss his turn if he strayed to the cafeteria, he limited his breakfast and lunch to the slim pickings from a nearby vending machine. By the time his name was called, he was racked with stress.
Bush issued his verdict as soon as Ghent concluded his pitch. "I'm going to deny the restoration of civil rights," he said. He wanted to see Ghent remain on the straight and narrow a bit longer, to prove he had really changed his ways. "I hope you come back, and I wish you well."
Fifteen years later, Ghent remembers the sting of those words. "He was very dismissive," says Ghent. The ex-felon wanted to push back against Bush's decision. But he simply said, "Thank you," and turned away.
Ghent was destined to remain an unwilling member of an unlucky club: the legions of Florida citizens—disproportionately African Americans, like him—who since the Civil War have been barred from the democratic process because of past convictions.
.....
(via MotherJones)
King Jeb had spoken.
More:
The year Ghent stood before Bush at the podium, the consequences of felon disenfranchisement were particularly profound. The 2000 presidential election was ultimately decided by a 537-vote margin in Florida. More than 500,000 ex-felons were barred from the polls, including at least 139,000 African Americans, who vote overwhelmingly for Democratic candidates. Their exclusion almost certainly changed the outcome of the race. The beneficiary, of course, was Jeb Bush's brother.
Bush, today a leading candidate for the Republican presidential nomination, did not invent this quasi-monarchical process. But he did embrace it. Mother Jones obtained more than 1,000 pages of transcripts of clemency hearings held during Bush's tenure. Together, they provide a glimpse into his moral reasoning as he weighed the worthiness of the appeals by thousands of ex-felons hoping to regain their rights. The transcripts, covering two years of hearings, show that Bush seems to have relied on an entrenched set of personal values in his rulings. If a crime involved alcohol abuse—such as DUI manslaughter cases, which were relatively common—he liked to see several years of complete sobriety before he would restore the person's rights. He was loath to approve the applications of petitioners he felt were not sufficiently remorseful or did not take full responsibility for their crimes. He sometimes asked wives in attendance to keep their husbands in check. Ex-felons needed to prove, over years of good behavior, that they had reformed. Bush often denied clemency simply because he believed not enough time had elapsed since the completion of the petitioner's sentence. He did not appear to question the basic premise of his judgments: that the right to vote should be contingent on a citizen's moral rectitude.
"The governor believes this is a fair process," a spokesman for Bush said in 2004. At a hearing two years later, Bush said, "It's very humbling for a human being to pass judgment on others...I worry and I wonder if I get it right."
Bush's presidential campaign declined to make the candidate available for comment.
Bush, today a leading candidate for the Republican presidential nomination, did not invent this quasi-monarchical process. But he did embrace it. Mother Jones obtained more than 1,000 pages of transcripts of clemency hearings held during Bush's tenure. Together, they provide a glimpse into his moral reasoning as he weighed the worthiness of the appeals by thousands of ex-felons hoping to regain their rights. The transcripts, covering two years of hearings, show that Bush seems to have relied on an entrenched set of personal values in his rulings. If a crime involved alcohol abuse—such as DUI manslaughter cases, which were relatively common—he liked to see several years of complete sobriety before he would restore the person's rights. He was loath to approve the applications of petitioners he felt were not sufficiently remorseful or did not take full responsibility for their crimes. He sometimes asked wives in attendance to keep their husbands in check. Ex-felons needed to prove, over years of good behavior, that they had reformed. Bush often denied clemency simply because he believed not enough time had elapsed since the completion of the petitioner's sentence. He did not appear to question the basic premise of his judgments: that the right to vote should be contingent on a citizen's moral rectitude.
"The governor believes this is a fair process," a spokesman for Bush said in 2004. At a hearing two years later, Bush said, "It's very humbling for a human being to pass judgment on others...I worry and I wonder if I get it right."
Bush's presidential campaign declined to make the candidate available for comment.
Yet another issue that Donald Trump could bring into the GOP debate next week.... how does Jeb! Bush justify his own actions in disenfranchising so many thousands of predominately African American voters in 2000 and 2004?
Of course, the mainstream media could jump in there too. .....Nah.
The Bush Family: A Continuing Criminal Enterprise?
Gary W. Potter, PhD.
Professor, Criminal Justice
Eastern Kentucky University
EXCERPT...
Jeb Bush: Influence Peddling for a “Bust-Out” Scam
But, Neil Bush was not the only Bush brother involved in the Savings and Loan collapses. Jeb Bush’s, the current Governor of Florida, curious relationship with Miguel Recarey is another illustration. Recarey was a long-time business associate of Tampa organized crime figure Santos Trafficante. Recarey also fled the U.S. facing three separate indictments for labor racketeering, illegal wiretapping and Medicare fraud (Freedburg, 1988: A1). Recarey’s business, International Medical Centers, was the largest health maintenance organization for the elderly in the U.S. and had been supported from $1 billion in payments from the Medicare program. International Medical Centers went bankrupt in 1988 (Freedburg, 1988: A1; Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4). When International Medical Centers went under it left $222 million in unpaid bills and was under investigation for $100 million in Medicare fraud (Freedbrug, 1988: A1; Frisby, 1992: G1). The U.S. Office of Labor Racketeering in Miami referred to Recarey and his company as “the classic case of embezzlement of government funds ... “a bust-out operation” (Freedburg, 1988: A1)
Jeb Bush’s role in this saga being in 1985 when Recarey’s attempt to create his “bust-out scam” corporation ran into a federal regulation that said no HMO could get more that 50% of its revenue from Medicare (Freedburg, 1988: A1; Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4). Jeb Bush intervened on Recarey’s behalf with Helath Human Services Secretary Margaret Heckler and one of her top aides. Convincing them to waive the regulation in the case of Recarey’s company (Freedburg, 1988: A1; Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4). In addition to Jeb Bush’s intervention, Recarey had paid $1 million to senior Republican lobbyists in Washington, who were also working the staff of Health and Human Services in pursuance of a waiver (Freedburg, 1988: A1; Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4). In addition, Jeb Bush had contacted Secretary Heckler earlier about complaints from doctors over the quality of International Medical Centers’ care and allegations that Recarey had embezzled funds form another hospital (Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4). Jeb Bush told an aide to Secretary Heckler that “contrary to any rumors that were floating around concerning Mr. Recarey, that he was a solid citizen from Mr. Bush’s perspective down there [in Miami], that he was a good community citizen and a good supporter of the Republican Party” (Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4).
Not surprisingly, in 1988 Recarey’s company gave Jeb Bush’s real estate company $75,000 to help it find a site for a new corporate headquarters (Freedburg, 1988: A1; Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4). It was a bad investment because International Medical Centers had already selected a corporate headquarters location when it hired Jeb Bush (Royce and Shaw, 1988: 4).
Jeb Bush had a role in yet another Savings and Loan fiasco when he defaulted on a loan from Broward Federal Savings and Loan (LaFraniere , 1990: A24). Broward Federal loaned $4,565.000 to J Edward Houston, a real developer in February, 1985. The loan was secured only by Houston’s personal guarantee. On the same day, one of Houston’s company lent the same amount to a partnership made up of Jeb Bush and Armondo Codina for the purpose of purchasing a building in Miami. The Bush-Condina partnership was required to repay the loan only if revenues from the building were sufficient to cover the repayment. Bush and Condina made no payments on the loan at all and in 1987 Houston defaulted on the Broward Federal loan and the Bank sued both Houston and the Bush-Condina real estate partnership. In a sweetheart settlement with the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, Bush and Codina only had to repay $500,000 of the $4.5 million loan and got to retain ownership of the building which had been the collateral on the loan. In 1991, the FDIC sued the officers and directors of Broward Federal charging that the loan ultimately used by Bush and Codina was an example of the bank’s negleient lending practices (Frisby, 1992: G1). The Bush-Codina loan played a key part in the failure of Broward Federal which cost taxpayers $285 million (LaFraniere , 1990: A24).
CONTINUED...
http://critcrim.org/critpapers/potter.htm
