The Contrarian

Find out what happens when four talented, talkative journalists crowd into a basement room that doubles as a fallout shelter (no, really), open a bottle of wine, and discuss the most controversial and divisive political topics of the day. The result is the inaugural episode in our new series of Texas Observer podcasts. This week we discuss “Valley of Death,” this month’s cover story about the deadliest place in Mexico, the GOP’s attack on the Women’s Health Program, and the kerfuffle over state sonogram laws. Check back in two weeks for the next installment.

http://www.texasobserver.org/wp-content/legacy/media/k2/audio/ObserverPodcastEpisode1.mp3

CNN’s Anderson Cooper 360 will air a report tonight on the controversial case of Warren Horinek—a former Fort Worth police officer convicted in 1996 of murdering his wife. Horinek is serving a 30-year sentence in state prison. There is compelling evidence that he’s innocent.

The Observer first reported on the serious flaws in the case against Horinek in August 2010. Our exposé—titled “A Bloody Injustice”—detailed the unusual circumstances that led to Horinek’s conviction.

On March 14, 1995, Warren Horinek called 911, claiming his wife Bonnie had shot herself. When paramedics arrived, they found Bonnie dead. She was lying on the couple’s bed with a gunshot wound to the chest. Warren was frantically administering CPR. On the bed next to Bonnie’s body was a .38 revolver and a shotgun. There was no sign of a break in. Police quickly narrowed the possible scenarios: Either Bonnie had committed suicide or Warren had murdered her. Warren claimed from the beginning that Bonnie had killed herself.

The people normally responsible for prosecuting a murder came to believe that Warren was telling the truth. The crime scene investigator, the homicide sergeant, the medical examiner and the assistant DA assigned to prosecute the case all became convinced that the evidence pointed to suicide.

“I always thought that it was suicide,” Mike Parrish, the prosecutor handling the case, told the Observer last year. “Still do.”

Bonnie’s parents chose to hire a private attorney, who, through a quirk in the law, obtained a grand jury indictment of Horinek. That led to a bizarre trial. Everyone trying to convict Warren was in private practice, and the agents of the state—crime scene investigator, homicide sergeant and assistant DA—all testified for the defense.

It seemed Warren was headed for acquittal until the testimony of the prosecution’s final witness—a blood spatter expert from Oklahoma named Tom Bevel. He testified that the small spots of blood found on Warren’s t-shirt the night of Bonnie’s death were certainly the result of blood spatter form a gunshot. He said the spatter proved Warren had fired a gun the night of the murder.

It was Bevel’s blood spatter testimony that led to Warren’s conviction.

The problem is Bevel may well have been wrong. Several nationally known blood spatter experts have examined the Horinek case and strongly believe the blood spots resulted from Warren administering CPR to Bonnie. They say the key forensic evidence that sent Warren to prison is flawed. (For more details on the blood spatter evidence, read our 2010 story on the Horinek case.)

The Utne Reader and The Daily Beast followed up our reporting on the case. And now CNN will bring what seems a gross injustice to a national audience (the show will air tonight at 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. EST).

As the case is gaining wider attention, Walter Reaves, a Waco attorney, is hoping to vacate Horinek’s conviction or win a new trial. Reaves filed a writ of habeas corpus for Horinek in 2010. This fall, there were two hearings on Horinek’s case in Fort Worth at which three forensic experts—including Jim Varnon, the original CSI on the case who has worked to free Horinek for years—testified that overwhelming evidence points to a suicide. It will take at least three months for the judge to make a recommendation on Horinek’s case to the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals, which will decide whether the conviction will stand.

In the meantime, increased media attention on the fate of Warren Horinek can’t hurt.

Texas is suffering through one of its worst droughts; the previous 12 months were the hottest and driest ever recorded in the state. But some Texans don’t seem to notice.

Despite water shortages and tight water restrictions in many localities, Texas’ business and political elite are using up to 19 times as much water as average Texans, according to utility records.

Let’s start at the top of state government. Gov. Rick Perry’s private residence in far west Austin used 790,000 gallons in the 12-month period between September 2010 and August 2011, according to utility bills the Observer obtained through a public records request. Texas taxpayers have been footing the bill for Perry and his family to live in the 4,000-square-foot, $10,000-a-month house in a tony subdivision while the historic Texas Governor’s Mansion undergoes repairs from a June 2008 fire.

Perry’s house sits on 3.5 acres featuring extensive landscaping and a pool. Perry’s water consumption is nearly eight times higher than Austin’s household average: about 100,000 gallons a year, according to the city utility.

Perry’s water usage may seem excessive compared to the average, but many people use a lot more water than the governor. In fact, Perry’s total doesn’t even put him in the top 50 water users in Austin—all of whom consumed more than a million gallons of water in the past year. That’s remarkable, given that the city’s water restrictions limited lawn watering to two days per week for most of the summer. Local environmental activist Paul Robbins obtained the list of the top 50 water users and released it to media outlets, including the Observer and NPR’s new StateImpact project.

The worst offender was Roger Girling, owner of a home health care business, who used 1.9 million gallons, or 19 times the average. The No. 3 water user was super-lobbyist Neal “Buddy” Jones. And sixth on the list was Republican congressman Michael McCaul, recently named by The Hill newspaper as the richest member in Congress (surpassing John Kerry). McCaul used 1.4 million gallons, nearly double Perry’s total.

It’s impressive that the governor’s water consumption can be nearly eight times the average, and he still can’t keep up with the Joneses—or the McCauls.

Gov. Rick Perry has run the most disastrous campaign for president in recent memory. The signature moment, of course, was his brain freeze at the GOP debate in Michigan, when he stammered for 54 seconds, unable to recall that he wants to eliminate the Department of Energy, the federal agency that safeguards the nation’s nuclear arsenal, and then uttered the delicious word that has come to define his candidacy: “oops.”

Internet and television pundits have called it one of the most memorable gaffes in the history of televised presidential debates. It was particularly damaging to Perry because it reinforced the central negative perceptions of him: that he’s a shallow candidate who lacks knowledge of federal policy, and that he’s an inarticulate man who, as many commentators put it, “isn’t ready for prime time.” The Perry campaign tried to spin the lapse as the kind of “human” moment we’ve all experienced. That’s not quite right. We forget things that people tell us—a stranger’s name, the number of the Medicaid reform bill, a co-worker’s birthday. We don’t forget our core beliefs, or lines of argument that we’ve carefully considered. Perry hasn’t studied the federal budget. He hasn’t thought carefully about whether—and to what effect—the Department of Energy should be eliminated. It was just something he said to energize the anti-government base. This approach cost him. For one spectacularly painful moment, Perry was naked in front of a national television audience, stripped of his talking point. Oops indeed.

The gaffe finished off Perry as a viable presidential candidate, barring a truly miraculous comeback. And the “oops” moment will become shorthand for Perry’s stumbling candidacy—if it hasn’t already. But the truth is that Perry had probably blown his chances well before the words “Department of Energy” slipped his mind. Perry’s poll numbers in the key early primary states had already sunk to single digits, a decline earned on merit. His missteps are too numerous to list, but here are some highlights: implying a threat of violence against Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke; saying the anti-immigrant base has “no heart”; mangling an attempted debate attack on Mitt Romney for flip-flopping; saying, in response to the first question of the Oct. 11 debate on economic issues, that he didn’t have a jobs plan but would release one soon; claiming that Warren Buffett, of all people, doesn’t understand how to create private-sector jobs. Eat your heart out, Fred Thompson.

The campaign has secured for Perry a national reputation as a bungler, but Texans can’t afford to think of him that way. Bunglers are harmless; if they cause pain, it’s accidental. Rick Perry isn’t Mr. Bean. He’s implemented policies that have robbed much-needed social services from hundreds of thousands of Texans. He’s lorded over state government like a bully, using intimidation and fear to get what he wants from the Legislature. Perhaps most of all, he’s built a network of patronage throughout state government in which supporters and former staffers populate key government positions and dispense state contracts and grants to companies that—coincidently or not—contribute to Perry’s political funds.

In the December 2011 issue of the Observer, we explore these elements of Perry’s record in Texas. And with good reason. His presidential campaign has been an embarrassment, and the rest of the nation will soon be free to forget about Rick Perry. But Texans don’t have that luxury. He is still our governor for—gulp—at least another three years. It behooves us to take him seriously.

In “The V.I.P. Room” we meet some of Perry’s friends and former staffers who have built careers—and won lucrative state contracts for their clients—thanks to their relationship with the governor. 

Read “Brains Behind the Curtain” to learn about the think tank responsible for many of Perry’s controversial ideas.

Rick Perry released his tax reform plan yesterday. The proposal—along with Perry’s energy plan and his promise to balance the federal budget—has clarified how Perry would govern the country if he’s elected president: make the rest of the United States as much like Texas as possible.

There’s a term for this, a word that pundits bandied during the George W. Bush years and which we need to dust off.

Texification.

Perry’s solution for the country’s economic problems is apparently to replicate the Texas approach to taxes, government spending and job creation. The Texas Way would be a boon to industry and would likely create jobs. But there’s a cost: Little investment in education, health care and other social programs. And a badly degraded environment (more on that further down).

In a speech in South Carolina yesterday, Perry proposed an optional 20 percent flat tax (more details here). I say optional because, under Perry’s plan, Americans would have a choice: pay their tax rate under the current system or pay the flat tax.

The plan is already under attack from the left and the right. I do find it amazing that Perry is pitching a bold, simple way to pay your taxes, but, in fact, his plan could complicate the tax code. Under his proposal, taxpayers would have to calculate the taxes they owe under two systems and then decide which is cheaper. (Has anyone checked to see if TurboTax is backing Perry?)

The bottom line is this: Perry’s plan would result in a huge tax cut for wealthy Americans—who pay a top tax rate of 35 percent. But middle-class and lower-income Americans wouldn’t necessarily have to pay more (as they would under Herman Cain’s 9-9-9 plan).

So, it’s not regressive, really. It just helps the rich. Wealthy people get a massive tax break, while everyone else gets nothing. Oh, I forgot to mention that corporate taxes would shrink, at least in the first year.

The net effect would be a large drop in revenue for the federal government. That’s probably the idea.

I haven’t yet seen any estimates of how much money Perry’s 20 percent flat tax would deprive the federal government, but it’s likely quite a bit.

Perry also pledges to balance the federal budget. That’s a worthy goal, of course. But combined with Perry’s tax proposal, it could create a serious problem.

Starving the government of revenue while simultaneously balancing the budget would result in almost unfathomable budget cuts.

It’s hard to imagine how much money we would have to cut from the budget to make federal spending balance out with the plunging revenues envisioned in Perry’s tax plan. Medicaid, Medicare, Social Security and defense spending—the big ticket items—would all take massive reductions.

At the same time, Perry has pitched a jobs/energy plan that focuses on domestic fossil fuel production. And he promises to eviscerate—or streamline, depending on your point of view—federal regulatory agencies, starting with the EPA, in order to spur job growth.

So Perry’s vision is taking shape: low taxes, low spending, lots of oil and natural gas drilling, and business-friendly regulation.

Remind you of any place?

The business-friendly Texas model has created a good economy the past decade. Though Texas has felt the recession, it’s also created more jobs than any other state.

But can the Texas model be exported? Would it create jobs all across the country? I have no doubt that corporations and wealthy individuals would fair very well under a President Perry. Some states might see job growth. But would Perry’s approach create jobs in Michigan?

And at what cost? There’s another side to the so-called Texas Miracle.

Our low tax, low-spending approach has left Texas with chronically under-funded education and health care systems. Our graduation rate is low, our dropout rate high. The number of Texans without health insurance is larger than the population of Costa Rica.

Our poorly funded government programs have caused one crisis after another—from Child Protective Services to the Texas Youth Commission to state centers for the developmentally disabled.

Our drilling and lack of environmental regulation has left Texas with some of the most polluted air and water in the country, and quite a few cancer clusters.

Many Texans—at least the ones who vote—like the state the way it is and are perfectly comfortable with this grand tradeoff.

The question for voters in the rest of the nation evaluating Perry’s plans is this: Do they want their country to look like Texas?