The Wire re-up: season three, episode three drug use and dead soldiers | The Wire

The Wire Re-up - the book is out now. Click here to buy it There's no messing about with the metaphors as series three's story arc starts its assault on city government and bureaucracy. The two "dead soldiers" of the title are from opposing sides of the law and meet their ends in contrasting ways

The Wire re-upThe Wire

The Wire re-up: season three, episode three – drug use and dead soldiers

SPOILER ALERT: This weekly blog is for those who have already seen The Wire in its entirety. This week: a great moment of civic compromise

The Wire Re-up - the book is out now. Click here to buy it

There's no messing about with the metaphors as series three's story arc starts its assault on city government and bureaucracy. The two "dead soldiers" of the title are from opposing sides of the law and meet their ends in contrasting ways - yet both are used to illuminate the amoral futility of the city's drugs policing.

Tosha's death, catching a stray one smack in the head from Dante after Omar orders his crew to "bang out" yet another Barksdale stash-house, is the second tragedy to befall our favourite B'more mercenary. A nasty cigarette burn on his left palm helps him keep his focus, for now.

Of greater significance is that homicide treat her as a "real" victim – a citizen. Any death that encroaches on the world outside the corners and the game, such as, for example, the young kid's death in the crossfire of the low-rise shootout in episode one, merits a different response. So surely Colvin's Hamsterdam, which we see being chosen here, is merely an extension of this ad hoc policy? Don't encroach on their world, and they won't encroach on ours: the equilibrium is maintained.

Colvin calls the brown paper bag law "a great moment of civic compromise". With Hamsterdam, he (and, of course, fundamentally, David Simon) is questioning why another great compromise cannot be reached with drug laws and policing in America after a century of manifest failure.

America's zero-tolerance approach to illegal drug-taking and addiction is responsible for the highest rate of imprisonment in the world, eroding civil rights, and placing one out of four young black men under some form of state control. The Wire's Baltimore is a paradigm of the 21st century American city.

Linguistically for example, the American National Institute on Drug Abuse will not issue official documents that even contain the phrase "drug use". Most European governments and bodies will use the term "drug misuse", but in the US it is always "drug abuse", underlining the ideological perspective that non-abusive use of illicit drugs is not possible.

Even the conservative Economist earlier this year called for legalisation as the "least bad policy", noting that all creditable recent studies showed "no correlation between the harshness of drug laws and the incidence of drug-taking". The Wire is fundamentally a manifestation of this truth, and in large part a moral case for action to remedy it – as well as a rollicking drama.

So we see Colvin taking his first baby steps to creating Hamsterdam, making sure it's more than eight blocks away from Stewart Hill elementary school. "Ignorance is bliss," he tells Mello. Later, when he wins back his howling district officers with a promise that the drug-free zone is merely a ruse, and they will soon be able to unload into the barrel, I'm not sure he even believes it himself.

Meanwhile, Carcetti's shit-stirring is creating a rift between Burrell and Royce. "You took the hit then, you're taking the hit now – I thank you for both, commissioner," the mayor says, his blinking smirk sealing the viewer's contempt for him.

The second "dead soldier" in the episode is Cole, whose booze-soaked wake at Kavanaugh's prompts one of Landsman's few sympathetic scenes. "We are pOlice," he says, in a toast that deals with the futility of BPD's ongoing struggle. "He had some victories, but he picked up some bad cases too." McNulty seems convinced that the fact that Cole solved a few cases should have given him some kind of immunity to an ignoble death at the hands of a StairMaster. Likewise, Kima, taking the Bunk role again in this episode, romanticises McNulty's tales of working cases so late that he wasn't home for the missus with almost whimsical longing. She needs to stop hanging round with him.

Quote of the week: Omar: "How do," as he pops up to surprise the stash guard. Classic.

Running totals

Murders: up two to 44 in Omar's ill-fated raid on another Barksdale stash.

McNulty giving a fuck when it wasn't his turn: up one to 20, as he turns Columbo in the prison to confirm his suspicions about D's "suicide". Drunk: up one to 13, with Kima as his partner-in-crime, as their characters seemingly converge. Dubious parenting: none, so still four.

Bunk drunk: no change at five.

Herc fuck-ups: none. Still on seven and a half.

Omar stick-ups: up one to seven.

Bubbles attempting to get clean: he's back in the loving arms of Kima, as her CI again. Though whether he's using the cash to get clean is doubtful. So still two.

ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7tbTEoKyaqpSerq96wqikaKWVmbaie86rnpqml6e2r7DEq2ZraGBufLSxz2hnamennr%2BmedOeo56umai2sLo%3D

 Share!