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February 08, 2013

How did 1992's AGENDA 21 become the Conservative talk radio bogeyman?

I've seen it pop up all over Facebook, in comments sections, all over the libertarian/Tea Party websites and heard it from the mouths of family friends: AGENDA 21 is Obama's and the UN's plan to remake the world, steal freedom, and end America. Except of course none of that is true. AGENDA 21, despite the ominous name, is a nonbinding memo from the UN in 1992--endorsed by Pres. Bush--that outlines how developing nations can create sustainable industry. That's it. How did it become a bogeyman? GOP: Ditch the Agenda 21 Tinfoil Hat Brigade - The Daily Beast
Have we entered some parallel universe where saving tax dollars and conserving natural resources has become a UN plot against American liberties? Apparently so. In 1992, President George H. W. Bush signed the U.S. onto a non-binding United Nations agreement called Agenda 21. The agreement is hardly more than a list of ways that local communities can better conserve natural resources. The general header for such practices is "sustainability." During my tenure as mayor of Sturgis (MI), a city of about 12,000 people, we implemented several sustainable practices that resulted in substantial savings to taxpayers. A green roof on a new public works building minimized heating and cooling costs in the building, reduced storm water runoff, and lowered long term maintenance expenses. When a neighborhood was annexed, we utilized rain gardens in lieu of costly curb and gutter to manage storm water, saving taxpayers hundreds of thousands of dollars. Hardly controversial, you'd think. Yet Glenn Beck, the John Birch Society, and various tea party groups have condemned "Agenda 21" as a globalist conspiracy to destroy America. And state legislators are listening. I am a real conservative. I championed privatization of our ambulance service and our hospital, and lowered our city millage to the lowest level in fifty years. I was the first mayor in the city’s history to exercise the right to legally carry a concealed weapon (but let’s not open that can of worms right now).

January 09, 2013

How Tide detergent became a currency for crack

This whole thing feels like a joke. Can this really be true? How Tide Detergent Became a Drug Currency -- New York Magazine
The call that came in from a local Safeway one day in March 2011 was unlike any the Organized Retail Crime Unit of the Prince George’s County Police Department had fielded before. The grocery store, located in suburban Bowie, Maryland, had been robbed repeatedly. But in every incident the only products taken were bottles—many, many bottles—of the liquid laundry detergent Tide. “They were losing $10,000 to $15,000 a month, with people just taking it off the shelves,” recalls Sergeant Aubrey Thompson, who heads the team. When Thompson and his officers arrived to investigate, they stumbled onto another apparent Tide theft in progress and busted two men who’d piled 100 or so of the bright-orange jugs into their Honda. The next day, Thompson returned to the store’s parking lot to tape a television interview about the crimes. A different robber took advantage of the distraction to make off with twenty more bottles. Later, Thompson reviewed weeks’ worth of the Safeway’s security footage. He found that more than two dozen thieves, working in crews, were regularly raiding the store’s household-products aisle, sometimes returning more than once the same day and avoiding detection by timing their heists to follow clerks’ shift changes. Owners and managers of other area stores, having seen Thompson on the news, reached out to him to report their own vanishing Tide bottles. Since then, the oddly brand-loyal crime wave has gone national, striking bodegas, supermarkets, and big-box discounters from Austin to West St. Paul, Minnesota. In New York, employees at the Penn Station Duane Reade nabbed a man trying to abscond with Tide bottles he’d stuffed into a suitcase. In Orange County, an attempted Tide theft led to a high-speed chase that included the thief crashing his SUV into an ambulance. Last year, for the first time, detergent made the National Retail Federation’s list of most-targeted items. Says Joseph LaRocca, founder of the trade group RetailPartners, who helped compile the report: “Tide was specifically called out.” As the cases piled up after his team’s first Tide-theft bust, Thompson sought an answer to the riddle at the center of the crimes: What did thieves want with so much laundry soap? To find out, he and his unit pored over security recordings to identify prolific perpetrators, whom officers then tracked down and detained for questioning. “We never promised to go easy on them, but they were willing to talk about it,” Thompson says. “I guess they were bragging.” It turned out the detergent wasn’t �being used as an ingredient in some new recipe for getting high, but instead to buy drugs themselves. Tide bottles have become ad hoc street currency, with a 150-ounce bottle going for either $5 cash or $10 worth of weed or crack cocaine. On certain corners, the detergent has earned a new nickname: “Liquid gold.” The Tide people would never sanction that tag line, of course. But this unlikely black market would not have formed if they weren’t so good at pushing their product. . . .