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...life without the possibility of parole if he committed a third, federal crime following two previous state convictions. As currently written, three strikes could work like this: a mugger shoves a woman while snatching her purse; strike one. The same criminal stiff-arms a store clerk while swiping a coat; strike two. Twenty years later (there are no intervals in either proposal), the same person punches a federal official, or assaults someone in a national park; strike three. The U.S. Sentencing Commission estimates that at most, only 690 federal prisoners a year would be in for life if "three strikes...
...what exactly does Clinton favor? Does he really want to sweep up the purse snatchers and coat thieves? No one knows for sure. A few hours before last Tuesday's speech, Vice President Gore said, "We'll let Congress decide." Minutes later, presidential counselor David Gergen admitted, "We don't even know what the different congressional ideas call for." The day after Clinton's address, White House press secretary Dee Dee Meyers echoed Gore and Gergen; she didn't know what was on the table, only that the White House wasn't going to get involved. "Actually," insists Reed, disagreeing...
...Doctors now understand, after 40 years of using it, how one antituberculosis medication works: Isoniazid interferes with a protective coat around the TB bacillus. The discovery may lead to new medicines that could overcome drug-resistant forms...
...Richardson, whose gorgeous, frazzled perkiness suggests a cheerleader on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The great turn, through, is from Wright, who plays a tough, often sullen kid -- precariously poised between acting and acting up. On location, setting up a shot where the five- year-old wore a coat, Brooks told her, "This is a magic coat, Whittni. There's great acting in it." And he was right...
...most of all he is busy being himself: God. Fyodor Shurpin's Morning of Our Motherland, 1946-48, is a portrait of Stalin in the literal form of the Pantocrator, contemplating a new world he has brought into being. He wears a white coat of radiant purity and is bathed in the light of an early spring morning. Behind him stretch the green pastures of a transfigured Russia, Poussin (as it were) with tractors and electricity pylons, and shy plumes of smoke rising to greet the socialist dawn from far-off factories. As Dante wrote, in God's will...