Kelo v. City of New London, 545 U.S. 469 (2005),
What does redistributive mean. Well, remember that it was the liberal Left-Wing Justices of the U.S. Supreme Court that brought us this little jewel, holding that the government could take your real property, like your home, not for public use like a road or school, but to give to another private individual, such as a political contributor or other party hack or interest group.
Kelo v. City of New London, 545 U.S. 469 (2005), was a case decided by the Supreme Court of the United States involving the use of eminent domain to transfer land from one private owner to another to further economic development. The case arose from the condemnation by New London, Connecticut, of privately owned real property so that it could be used as part of a comprehensive redevelopment plan. The Court held in a 5-4 decision that the general benefits a community enjoyed from economic growth qualified such redevelopment plans as a permissible "public use" under the Takings Clause of the Fifth Amendment. Justice John Paul Stevens wrote the majority opinion; he was joined by Justices Anthony Kennedy, David Souter, Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Stephen Breyer
The decision was widely criticized by American politicians and the general public. Many members of the general public viewed the outcome as a gross violation of property rights and as a misinterpretation of the Fifth Amendment, the consequence of which would be to benefit large corporations at the expense of individual homeowners and local communities. Some in the legal profession construe the public's outrage as being directed not at the interpretation of legal principles involved in the case, but at the broad moral principles of the general outcome.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kelo_v._City_of_New_London
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In his new book, "The Great Inflation and Its Aftermath: The Past and Future of American Affluence," NEWSWEEK columnist Robert J. Samuelson makes a compelling case that the current crisis is only one of a series of complicated issues that could slow American economic growth in a deep and fundamental way. "America's next president," Samuelson writes, "takes office facing the most daunting economic conditions in decades: certainly since Ronald Reagan and double-digit inflation, and perhaps since Franklin Roosevelt and 25 percent unemployment."
That much, at least, most of us know. What makes Samuelson's cover adaptation of his book all the more unsettling is his call for us to look beyond the current recession into a future that threatens to make this difficult autumn a prelude to ongoing economic disappointments and strains.
That is a sobering thought as we elect the 44th president of the United States this week. But we are unquestionably a country in a very bad humor about things. Nine out of 10 believe the nation is headed in the wrong direction, and the incumbent president's approval ratings rival those of the then unpopular Harry Truman and of Richard Nixon. The mood of the country is serious; many are scared.
Samuelson does offer an optimistic historical perspective, arguing that "even if the present slump deepens … the odds are that it won't approach the Great Depression in severity or suffering." But then—you guessed it—there is the bad news: "The recovery, though boosting employment, may prove unsatisfying. Our new economic era may lapse into a state of 'affluent deprivation.' That's an unfamiliar term. It doesn't mean poverty. The United States will remain a wealthy society. Rather, 'affluent deprivation' signifies a state of mind. People feel poorer, because their sluggish income gains get siphoned off into higher taxes, energy costs and health spending." Samuelson's piece may not exactly put a spring in your step as you go to the polls, but pretending the problems do not exist is hardly the wisest course. In another sensible corrective to the conventional wisdom, Jacob Weisberg discusses the real history of socialism and taxation—a history that is, as you might expect, more complicated than the campaign back-and-forth suggests.
A final word. When Andrew Jackson died in 1845, George Bancroft, the historian-statesman, gave a eulogy that included a shrewd and reassuring observation about the nature of the country. Alluding to a crisis with South Carolina radicals in 1832–33 that might have led to secession, Bancroft said: "The moral of the great events of those days is this: that the people can discern right, and will make their way to a knowledge of right; that the whole human mind, and therefore with it the mind of the nation, has a continuous, ever improving existence; that the appeal from the unjust legislation of today must be made quietly, earnestly, perseveringly, to the more enlightened collective reason of tomorrow; that submission is due to the popular will, in the confidence that the people, when in error, will amend their doings; that in a popular government, injustice is neither to be established by force, nor to be resisted by force; in a word, that the Union, which is constituted by consent, must be preserved by love." Not a bad sentiment to consider as an epic election comes to an end and a new era—with its perennial challenges and its particular problems—is set to begin.
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