Mendocino County Today: Sunday 12/8/2024

Gradual Clearing | Hopland Church | Small Works | All-League Footballers | Pet Froggy | Haschak Report | Covelo Painting | Heart Attack | Redwood Sculpture | AV Events | Calling It | Alpha Male | Lighten Up | Smoking Niner | Homeless Stories | Your Life | Deregulation Fiasco | Never Knew | Jim Jones | Civic Center | Black Bart | Yesterday's Catch | Late Empire | Copy Leonardo | Marco Radio | Pupfish Habitat | Seismograph | Restacking Firewood | Frictionless Death | Who Killed | Insurance Horrors | God? | 11 AM | House Democrats | Bubble Signs | Aged Worker | Lead Stories | In Syria | Alien Baby | Empire Victory | Marley's Ghost

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HIGH PRESSURE is building in today bringing breezy northerly winds and clearing skies. Lighter winds and clear skies are expected Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday may see some increasing clouds with chances for rain Thursday and Friday. Saturday a stronger storm system is possible. (NWS)

STEPHEN DUNLAP (Fort Bragg): A chance for a sprinkle has been in the forecast for last night all week until the NWS finally took the chance out yesterday. Then of course I got .05" anyhow. A warmer 47F under clear skies this Sunday morning on the coast. Rain chances for later this week keep changing so by Wednesday we can hopefully get a better idea of when & how much rain to expect.

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CATHOLIC DIOCESE PLANS TO SELL HISTORIC HOPLAND CHURCH

by Mike Geniella

St. Francis Catholic Church, the 127-year-old historic landmark and community center in the Mendocino County hamlet of Hopland, is being sold by the Diocese of Santa Rosa.

The move dashes hope of residents that the beloved Catholic church might reopen after being shuttered since the COVID pandemic.

St. Francis Church has a century-long presence in the heart of Hopland. It is an iconic all-white wood frame church nestled against the hills on the western edge of town within walking distance of the local Post Office and historic/restored Thatcher Hotel.

The planned church sale saddens but was expected by local supporters who have long felt St. Francis Church has been treated as a “stepchild” by diocesan officials.

For decades under the auspices of the St. Francis Guild, the historic church has had to rely on the generosity of community leaders and established local families to maintain the church constructed in 1897.

Generations of Hopland area families have gathered there for Sunday services since then for family weddings, and celebrations in honor of those who passed.

Katie and Dino Gibson, a fifth-generation Hopland resident, are the last local couple married at St. Francis. Family and friends packed the church for their wedding that took place on New Year’s Eve, 2019.

“It was very emotional and moving for us. Dino’s ancestors donated land in the 19th century so the church could be built where it has stood ever since. His grandparents were married there,” recalled Katie Gibson.

Katie Gibson said she grew up in neighboring Cloverdale in Sonoma County, where her family has lived for generations. “We are seeing this happen there with the little church at Asti,” she said.

“Family history, traditions, and our communities are still so important. We are going to miss our shared experiences at St. Francis,” said Gibson.

The loss is deepened for the Gibsons, other Hopland families, and church regulars by the possibility that cherished St. Francis relics and artwork will be removed and eventually end up somewhere else if diocesan officials approve. The artifacts include stained glass windows, statues, and pews.

“It is heartbreaking for all of us,” said Bard Zensen, a St. Francis Guild board member.

Zensen wrote in a Nov. 26 letter to guild board directors that as sad as that situation might be, “At least some things would be preserved in a suitable setting.”

Zensen said while St. Francis and an adjoining guild hall have been closed since the first outbreak of Covid, “The Guild Board of Directors have continued to meet and take care of expenses and maintenance” of the facilities.

Zensen said the Guild board struggled to find a priest in the diocese who might be willing to come to Hopland even if only for monthly services, but those efforts failed.

The prospect of a diocesan sale of the church property makes the situation hopeless, said Zensen. It was only then that disheartened guild directors decided to dissolve the volunteer organization and notify church officials that continued expenses and upkeep of St. Francis was now their sole responsibility.

Zensen said the decision was made “in great frustration and with heavy hearts.”

“It is so sad,” said Pat Hartley, an Ukiah resident and former treasurer of the Hopland church guild.

Hartley said, “St. Francis has a long history, and now it is all gone except for our memories.”

Hartley said the historic church’s legacy will live on through a newly created Hopland Fund at the Community Foundation of Mendocino County, where the Guild’s remaining money was transferred instead of into diocesan coffers.

“It allows the opportunity for the fund to earn some money and eventually use the proceeds to specifically benefit members of the Hopland community,” said Hartley.

Hartley and other church supporters said they felt the end was near when the church was never reopened after the pandemic eased, diocesan financial support withered, and the local effort to recruit a priest to celebrate Mass even once a month received no support at the diocesan level.

This past week diocesan representatives declined to discuss specifics of their plan for the Hopland church.

The Rev. Moses Brown, the diocese’s Vicar General, rebuffed written inquiries. “I have no comment at this time,” said Brown.

Diocesan attorney Reed Moran of Santa Rosa said it was “too early” to discuss any details.

The planned sale was confirmed, however, in a Nov. 19 letter from Bishop Robert Vasa, according to Rev. Peter Reddy, pastor of St. Mary’s Church in Ukiah. St. Francis is considered a mission church under the oversight of the larger St. Mary’s.

“I received information and the decision of the diocese on selling the property in Hopland,” according to a note Reddy shared with the St. Francis church guild members.

Reddy told the guild that diocesan lawyer Moran has been “appointed to oversee selling the property with cooperation of the Finance Committee of Ukiah.”

The Hopland property sale is part of an overall review of diocesan-held properties that might be sold as part of a bankruptcy reorganization. In early 2023, the diocese filed Chapter 11 Bankruptcy protection, after Bishop Vasa cited more than 130 sexual abuse claims that have been filed against priests and others, most of them dating to the 1970s and 1980s, but some after state lawmakers enacted a three-year window for sexual abuse victims that expires in January, 2026.

Moran this week suggested a sale of the Hopland church and property will take time.

“The Hopland church is in a pool of properties the diocese owns that are being evaluated for sale,” said Moran.

Moran said, “We haven’t had the time to look at them individually in depth.”

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ALL-LEAGUE FOOTBALL TEAMS FROM THE COASTAL MOUNTAIN CONFERENCE LEAGUES, AS VOTED ON BY LEAGUE COACHES.

NCL I

Offensive co-MVPs

Kolbe Bufardeci, Sr., Willits

Kelseyville offensive line (Alexis Martinez, Sr.; Milez Gambria, Jr.; Landon Johnson, Sr.; Adam Astrup, Sr.; Elijah Watkins, So.)

Defensive MVP

Jayden Teabo, Sr., Kelseyville

All-League

• Adrian Truby, Sr., Clear Lake
• Ryken Vilanueva, Jr., Clear Lake
• Gabe Valenzuela, Sr., Fort Bragg
• Leonardo Garcia, Sr., Fort Bragg
• Alex Nicholson, Sr., Fort Bragg
• Emmanuel Arenas, Sr., Fort Bragg
• Ross Knapp, Jr., Fort Bragg
• Kyle Watkins, Sr., Kelseyville
• Daniel Anderson Reyes, Sr., Kelseyville
• Alexis Martinez, Sr., Kelseyville
• Adam Astrup, Sr., Kelseyville
• Landon Johnson, Sr., Kelseyville
• River Calhoun, Sr., Kelseyville
• Michael De John, Jr., Kelseyville
• Brock Barrick, Sr., Kelseyville
• Vincent Wilson, Sr., Lower Lake
• Trenton Griffith, Jr., Middletown
• Jake Pullman, Sr., Middletown
• Kelby Shook, Sr., Middletown
• Tyler Galamay, Fr., Middletown
• Ben Brakesman, Jr., St. Helena
• Dean Sommer, Jr., St. Helena
• Jhony Covarrubias, Jr., St. Helena
• Sam Beck, Sr., St. Helena
• Russel Wilms, Sr., St. Helena
• Troy Taber, Sr., St. Helena
• Jonathan Barnes, Sr., Upper Lake
• Kaiwinabax Duncan-Monlo, Sr., Upper Lake
• Billy Stillman, Jr., Upper Lake
• Lincoln Nass, Jr., Willits
• Chase Tonne, Sr., Willits
• Corey Rockey, Jr., Willits
• Porter Garman, Jr., Willits
• Donald Glenn, Jr., Willits
• Ryan Carter, Jr., Willits
• Damian Reiter, So., Willits

Honorable mention

• AJ Bruch, Jr., Clear Lake
• Joe Bernardi, Sr., Cloverdale
• Sebastian Soria, Sr., Fort Bragg
• Jeffery Ballard, Sr., Kelseyville
• Zakai Vilmenay, Sr., Lower Lake
• Hayden Xavier, Jr., Middletown
• Adam Herdell, Jr., St. Helena
• Jubilee Faalelea, So., Upper Lake
• Zain Marshall, Fr., Willits

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UKIAH SHELTER PET OF THE WEEK

Froggy is a big, fun guy with lots of energy. This lugnut of a dog likes toys, water and long walks—though he does pull a little on leash. Froggy will need basic obedience and leash training, plus daily exercise to ensure he is the BEST boy in his new home. Due to his high energy, we recommend older children in Froggy’s new home. Froggy also has a bit of a prey drive, so no small pets or animals in this guy’s new digs. Froggy is a Bulldog/Pittie mix, 2 years old and 63 pounds.

To see all of our canine and feline guests, and the occasional goat, sheep, tortoise, and for information about our services, programs, and events, visit: mendoanimalshelter.com

Join us every first Saturday of the month for our Meet The Dogs Adoption Event at the shelter. We're on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/mendoanimalshelter/

For information about adoptions please call 707-467-6453. Making a difference for homeless pets in Mendocino County, one day at a time!

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THIRD DISTRICT SUPERVISOR’S REPORT: DECEMBER

by John Haschak

As the end of the year is near, here is my version of a wrap-up of the year. There are successes and celebrations, controversial decisions, and pending issues.

Round Valley Library was named the Best Small Library in America!

There is a budget carry forward of $11 million. On the plus side were supplemental and regular property taxes, cannabis taxes, and the Cost Plan recovery fees which more than offset lower sales and Transient Occupancy Taxes. This enabled us to pay back the loan from Measure B for the Mental Health wing of the County Jail.

The plan to balance the budget was presented in February. I worked on a voluntary retirement incentive, the transition of the museum to the Friends of the Mendocino County Museum non-profit, and restructured the administration of county libraries. Together these saved almost a million dollars.

The State Controller’s office conducted an audit of the county’s fiscal operations. The findings (except for the lack of doing a risk assessment for the consolidation of the Auditor/Controller and Treasurer/Tax Collector positions which I voted against) are cleared up now.

Negotiations were settled for all of the county’s bargaining units.

Construction began on both the Psychiatric Hospital Facility and the mental health wing of the County Jail.

Making our communities safer, the county received: 1) a $12 million Local Transportation Climate Adaptation grant for the environmental analysis and design work for a second access route for Sherwood Road; 2) a second grant for an access project on Redemeyer Road east of Ukiah; and 3) $3.5 million for the first phase of the FEMA Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities (BRIC) grant for fuel reduction, vegetation management, and home hardening in the Brooktrails area. Additionally, the special assessment election for maintaining emergency access routes for the Sherwood Road area passed with overwhelming support.

The Veterans Services Office returned to their home location in Ukiah. Veterans made their voices heard and heard again until the move to the Public Health building was rescinded.

The board approved a Master Tax Sharing Agreement and increased density of cannabis permits which I opposed. Litigation is still proceeding regarding the Auditor/Controller/Treasurer/Tax Collector.

Ongoing proposals which I support are: a low intensity camping ordinance, prohibiting digital billboard advertising, limits on short-term rentals, a proposed noise ordinance and contribution limits to campaigns.

Talk with the Supervisor will be on Dec. 12 at Brickhouse Coffee at 10 a.m. I am available by email haschakj@mendocinocounty.gov or 707-972-4214.

May your Holidays be full of good health and love.

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COVELO BACK IN THE DAY

The artist who painted this beautiful portrait of downtown Covelo is Paul Reingold.

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D’ANN WALLACE

I have attended many CPR classes over the years, but was never told this…..

When you are alone and have a heart attack. What are you gonna do then?

A rarely good post that can't be shared often enough:

1. Take a 2 minute break and read this: Let's say it's 5:25 pm and you're driving home after an unusually hard day's work.

2. You are really tired and frustrated. All of a sudden your chest pains. They are starting to radiate in the arm and jaw. It feels like being stabbed in the chest and heart. You're only a few miles away from the nearest hospital or home.
3. Unfortunately you don't know if you can make it..
4. Maybe you've taken CPR training, but the person running the course hasn't told you how to help yourself.
5. How do you survive a heart attack when you're alone when it happens? A person who is feeling weak and whose heart is beating hard has only about 10 seconds before losing consciousness.
6. But you can help yourself by coughing repeatedly and very strongly! Deep breaths before every cough. Coughing should be repeated every second until you arrive at the hospital or until your heart starts to beat normally.
7. Deep breathing gives oxygen to your lungs and coughing movements boost the heart and blood circulation. Heart pressure also helps to restore a normal heartbeat. Here's how cardiac arrest victims can make it to the hospital for the right treatment
8. Cardiologists say if someone gets this message and passes it on to 10 people, we can expect to save at least one life.
9. For Women: You should know that women have additional and different symptoms. Rarely have crushing chest pain or pain in the arms. Often have indigestion and tightness across the back at the bra line plus sudden fatigue.

Instead of posting jokes, you're helping save lives by spreading this message.

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ON THE PINNACLE of the dome there is a beautiful piece of sculpture carved from a block of the indigenous redwood. It represents the beautiful Masonic emblem, the broken pillar, the maiden beside it, with the sprig in her hand, and old Father Time toying with her tresses. The execution of the design is very perfect, and speaks volumes for the skill and ability of the workman who produced it. There it ever stands, visible to all who enter the town or pass through its streets, proclaiming in silent majesty, that grandest of all lessons which the teachings of this worthy fraternity seek to inculcate.

— Lyman Palmer, History of Mendocino County, California, 1880.

(Kelley House Museum)

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AV EVENTS (today)

Free Entry to Hendy Woods State Park for local residents
Sun 12 / 08 / 2024 at 8:00 AM
Where: Hendy Woods State Park
More Information (https://andersonvalley.helpfulvillage.com/events/3672)

Community Holiday Dinner: Click on link below to sign up for what to bring!
Sun 12 / 08 / 2024 at 5:00 PM
Where: Anderson Valley Grange , 9800 CA-128, Philo, CA 95466
More Information (https://andersonvalley.helpfulvillage.com/events/4300)

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WHINE OF THE DAY

Mr. Web Editor,

I get threatened and put on restriction? Are you kidding?

I have not violated any rules.

Just exercised my freedom of speech and views.

I have not threatened anyone but respond to people who clearly come after me aggressively. This includes the Editor. Remember that’s the same guy who punched the County Schools Superintendent.

Is Chuck Dunbar being monitored?

The person who told me he knows who I’am and where I live.

Call It Like I See It

Ukiah

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LIGHTEN UP, AMERICA!

by Alexander Cockburn (2003)

Watching the high school kids tottering up the hiking trail under ridiculous burdens I was reminded of the studies of GIs who jumped into the surf in the Normandy landings with 80 pound packs on their backs and promptly drowned. These days the overloaded back pack is coming under scrutiny as kids totter home from school hefting 30 pound loads. I’ve become a devotee of the famous long distance hiker Ray Jardine, whose philosophy of life and loads is set forth in his 1992 classic Beyond Backpacking, which should be nestling next to the works of John Muir on your bookshelf.

Jardine and his wife Jenny have hiked all the major trails, Pacific Crest, Continental Divide and Appalachian, and watched with horror as overloaded plodders lost any sense of pleasure and often quit the trail altogether. After thousands of miles and much experimentation, the couple ended up with a total packweight each, minus food and water, of around eight pounds.

I read the book in the spring and was convinced. Out went the heavy hiker boots and in came modestly priced sneakers. (Jardine counsels you to tear out their tongues.) Out went the elaborate back pack with scores of irritating pockets and a metal frame. In came the simple Jardine-designed pack, weighing l4 ounces.

Jardine is persuasive in his denunciations of tents and sleeping bags as weighty traps for moisture. His tarp tent and sleeping cover plus pad, plus the tarp tent are under 4 pounds overall. In the end I took to the trail along the Sinkyone Wilderness on a glorious weekend on California’s North Coast without tent under a pack weighing 15 pounds including food and white spirit stove and pan.

What a difference! Each stop to drink water and enjoy the wonderful vistas of redwood stands, Doug fir, and rock-girt seashore wasn’t prelude to the grim business of once again hoisting a 40 pound load onto sore shoulders. Going up the up steep grades was a breeze. I gloried in nature’s temple rather than feeling I was on the uphill slope to the morgue.

I was hiking with Bruce Anderson, supreme commander of the Anderson Valley Advertiser, beacon of freedom in Mendocino County and in fact America’s greatest newspaper. As we clambered out of sea level inlets up the trail to the 1,400 foot contour level three, four, five, six times across an overall hiking time along 16 miles of about 11 hours (plus a night under the stars) Bruce groaned beneath his old fashioned pack, thick sleeping sack and self-inflating mattress pad. Pad and bag were abandoned at dawn the second day and his spirits improved markedly.

Except for that party of high schoolers trekking up out of the Usal campground at the south end of the Sinkyone near the end of our hike, we saw no one. We had about ten miles of the most beautiful trail on the Pacific coast all to ourselves. A neighbor took his grandson on Memorial Day weekend to camp for a couple of days along a well known trail some twenty miles north of Eureka. It runs along Redwood Creek and is far from punishing. They saw no one. Americans have given up hiking. They stay at home watching Fox or CNN and getting fat. Or punishing their bodies with Dr. Atkins’ diet.

I’ve plenty of agreeable memories from that outing in the Sinkyone Wilderness: A stately elk, as encumbered with his vast rack of antlers as so many hikers with their loads; the bare vestige of Wheeler, a little logging town burned down by Georgia Pacific for reasons of liability back in the 1950s, now surrounded by triumphant stands of redwood.

But one image that will stay with me is of a young, plumpish fellow in that group heading north on the first steep climb up out of Usal. Already he was tired and lagging. His pack was large. It was easy to predict that after five or six miles his life-time pledge to avoid all hiking trails. There should be a new standard: no back pack over twenty pounds including food and water and if possible, under five pounds. No American over… Well, you figure the appropriate weight to height standard. We make our stand against the food industry (America’s biggest killer) and the recreation industry, which mostly takes the fun out of the great outdoors.

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HOMELESS, THEN & NOW

by Bruce McEwen (December, 2008)

I came here from Wyoming, like Fremont, in moccasins. And like Fremont I met some Native Americans along the way.

I remember one laconic old warrior in particular. He gave me a ride on his white Dodge pony from somewhere north of Crescent City to Arcata. He was on a family errand to trade abalone shells for woodpecker heads. His nephew needed seven woodpecker heads to purchase his bride from her father. The woodpecker heads in question were relics of considerable antiquity and veneration. The nephew and his uncle couldn't just go out and shoot the birds and collect the trophies. He had to seek out the various elders who had obtained them in similar fashion from the previous generations and pay what these old men in their wisdom would stipulate. In this instance a truckload of abalone shells for two of the talismans. The prospective groom was thereby required to demonstrate his enterprise and resourcefulness to get his bride.

As we rode south, my new acquaintance gave me an overview of his people's history since the arrival of the white settlers who followed Fremont into Northern California. It was a pretty dismal narrative. He pointed out, for instance, that there was still a law on the books that paid a bounty for shooting a Native American dead. Having had all the land claimed by the settlers, the natives were displaced in a most onerous manner. Short of going to the reservation (read concentration camp) they were left to beg, steal or starve on the streets of the new town. They were neither encouraged nor tolerated to frequent storefronts, barrooms or social events. Like the homeless today, hanging around the Mateel Community Center on the evening of a gala opening, everybody wished they would just go away.

Native Americans were treated far more harshly than the homeless are today. However, there are some similarities and, I fear, some latent nostalgia for “the good old days.” I've heard more than a few locals use the same libels, originally coined to spurn the character of Native Americans, against the homeless today. Things like, They like being dirty; They're too lazy to work; and my favorite, They have money, they just want to hoard it. They're labeled as alcoholics and drug addicts because they can't drink and use drugs in the privacy of their own homes like the rest of us who can sober up before we go out in public and pretend we are better.

As an avid history buff I was eager to hear this Native perspective. I have since ridden with other Native Americans and heard similar narratives. They were not didactic or even sentimental. They were delivered with detachment and good humor in a tone peculiar to Native Americans.

John Charles Fremont, according to his biographer, David Nevin, was keen to learn from the Native Americans he encountered. He and the mountain man he traveled with dressed in buckskins and moccasins like the natives and eschewed the impractical fashions of the settlers. Fremont ran for president, the first Republican candidate, in full buckskins. They called him the Pathfinder, a moniker he repudiated vociferously, declaiming he was merely a mapmaker. But Fremont The Cartographer didn't have the same ring and his campaign manager insisted on Fremont The Pathfinder.

Fremont, like many others in those days, found gold in California and for a while he was quite well off. When the Civil War broke out he sided with the union and as a Lieutenant General he had a great deal of responsibility. During these trying times he hired managers for his affairs, the same MBA types who have so recently and spectacularly wrecked our economy.

These good fellows squandered and embezzled his fortune. Fremont found himself in desperate straits after the war. He lost his fine house and lived in a seedy rental. His wife, Jessie Benton Fremont, took the field notes from his days mapping the Oregon Trail and his many efforts to bring California into the Union and infuse these cold, stiff military reports with verve. These vivid adventures she sold to popular magazines to pay the bills.

Baron von Humboldt was still alive at the time, moldering in his Teutonic lair, and he read the stories and tendered his respects and admiration to the Fremonts in a letter the Old Pathfinder cherished to his dying day.

Eventually the stories ran out and the Fremonts returned in penury and cheap shoes to California. Here he and his wife were homeless and subject to the contempt and malice of the settlers he had guided through his maps thither.

Fremont spent most of his life camping on the trails he was mapping. He probably didn't suffer the hardship of homelessness, but his wife was the daughter of “Old Bullion” Benton, senior senator from Missouri, and although she bore the contrast with dignity she must have felt they deserved better. I would be the first to agree with her.

Eventually, some kind soul found a way to persuade the proud old campaigner to take a little money for a cheap motel room where the story ends.

From my small readings in North American anthropology I cannot imagine this kind of treatment for the elderly in a Native American community. After all, some old campaigner like that might happen to have a few woodpeckers laying around just when you need them.

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TIME TO REGULATE THE DEREGULATORS

by Jim Shields (January 8, 2001)

Calling Virginia Strom-Martin.

Calling Wes Chesbro.

Calling Mike Thompson.

Calling Dianne Feinstein.

Calling Barbara Boxer.

Please answer your pager. Please call home. You have a message. A very important message. California is in a crisis. Your constituents are getting screwed. Our state’s economy is about to crash.

We can’t hear you.

We can’t see you.

Where are you?

Most likely our stellar legislative delegation has been abducted by aliens. They are nowhere to be found. What else could explain the mysterious disappearance of our distinguished posse of swivel-chair legislators.

Still think deregulation is such a great idea?

Well, since none of them have the guts to face the music about the deregulation fiasco, here’s the tune they’ve all been whistling.

Back in the mid-90s I warned you that the imbeciles in Sacramento were planning to deregulate the state’s energy utilities. All of the jackasses were braying about all the wonderful things deregulation would do for the public. I told you not to believe them. I told you that every experiment with once-regulated industries has been a disaster: airline, railroad, telephone, savings and loans, and the list goes on.

PG&E and the state’s other electrical monopolies are able to operate with a public-be-damned attitude because of this state’s fatal blunder deregulating the electrical industry back in 1996. The real culprits are the politicians who brought us deregulation. The entire state legislature (Republicans and Democrats, the Dems controlled both houses of the state Legislature) voted unanimously to unleash economic havoc on an unsuspecting public. The bi-partisan collaboration between Republicans and Democrats fostered the collapse of electrical regulation that resulted in the CPUC’s neutering from Watchdog to Lapdog.

Those elected leaders, colossal imbeciles each and every one, are responsible for the deregulation fiasco.

Here in Mendocino County back in 1996 most local governments, including the then-Board of Supervisors (John Pinches, Patti Campbell, Mike Delbar, Richard Shoemaker, and Charles Peterson), also went on record unanimously supporting electrical deregulation. The BOS was paid a visit by a PG&E exec who was the monopoly’s point man on the Northcoast. He was also Patti Campbell’s husband, Peter. He was a very amiable, charming Englishman, PBS/BBC-style, and the day he made his deregulation pitch to the Board, he succeeded in gaining their support by charming the monkeys right out of their trees for what turned out to be one of the state’s most prodigious fubars. Yours truly opposed the whole hornswoggle, obviously I charmed no one.

Over the past 25 years, I’ve written probably 80 to a 100 hundred pieces on numerous facets of this abysmal story. Back in 2001, I wrote a column that I think is a fair summary of a very long, sometimes treacherous saga leading up to the much justified recall of an indecisive and ethically-spent Governor — Gray Davis. And then things got real interesting, real fast.

Truly great leaders like Teddy Roosevelt, a grand old Republican, figured out a century ago that certain sectors of our economy must be monitored and regulated because the typical forces of the free market could not control the resulting anti-competitive, monopolistic behavior inherent to such economic endeavors. Teddy used his big stick to bust the trusts, which is what folks called monopolies back then. He also brought the monopolies under their first public control.

While Teddy (who along with his cousin Franklin Roosevelt, George Washington and Abe Lincoln are this country’s four greatest presidents) was bringing the monopolists to heel back East, California Populists led by Republican Governor Hiram Johnson, in the early 1900s were rounding up Southern Pacific Railroad and the gas and electric utilities which owned state and local government lock-stock-and-barrel. An aroused citizenry brought the railroad and utility giants to their knees, primarily through the creation of public commissions with broad regulatory authority over those industries.

For almost a hundred years, California’s utilities policy was pretty straight-forward. In return for allowing PG&E and Southern California Edison to continue to do business as legal monopolies, their rates and services would be subject to control through the Public Utilities Commission. That was the basic trade-off. Theoretically, and most of the time in practice, the PUC set rates charged to the public on a standard of cost-based pricing. Whatever it cost the utilities to actually produce energy was factored into the basic rate, plus a reasonable margin for profit.

A century ago, our political leaders understood that the electric and gas industries were the types of economic endeavors that just didn’t work in the free marketplace. Besides, given the then evolving public investment in critical utility infrastructure, such as dams and related activities for hydroelectric power, it was good public policy to maintain these kinds of private-public partnerships growing out of a regulated environment.

The system was not perfect, but it sure beat the alternative — as we are now learning to our great detriment. As any country boy or girl will tell you, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. But that’s exactly what our sell-out politicians did back in 1996.

By a unanimous vote in 1996, the entire state legislature voted to kill something that had worked for a century.

By a unanimous vote in 1996, every Republican and every Democrat in Sacramento, decided they knew better than what folks knew — and learned the hard way — a century ago: The utilities have to be controlled by the public because the free market just doesn’t work in certain situations. You might say Californians back in the 1900s “had been there, done that.” They fixed it the first time because it was broke. A hundred years later, an arrogant gang of political hacks broke it because the fix was in.

With the passage of electrical deregulation, California proudly led the nation in efforts to deregulate the electricity sector. The act was hailed as a “historic reform” that would reward consumers with lower prices, reinvigorate California’s then-flagging economy, and provide a model for other states.

Now five years later, the “reforms” lay in ruins, overwhelmed by electricity shortages and skyrocketing prices for wholesale power. The electrical giants now find themselves on the precipice of insolvency just half a step from outright bankruptcy. The state of California became the buyer of last resort, draining the general fund and committing itself to spending $42 billion more on long-term power deals that stretch over the next ten years. And you don’t need me to tell you who’s actually on the hook for that I.O.U.

The politicians are bailing themselves out of the cesspool they dug with our money and our children’s and grandchildren’s money. What a deal. We’re pumping in billions and billions of dollars to bail out the utilities, and we’re receiving absolutely zilch in return. For the money already spent on the bogus bailout, the public could own — should own — every transmission line and every piece of energy infrastructure in the state. But, the only thing the public owns is higher electrical bills.

Now Governor Gray Davis and the state legislature are in the process of propping up a system riddled with out-of-date, inefficient power plants, obsolete equipment and above-market rate energy contracts. Davis, as you probably know from recent reports, is keeping the details of his bailout plan hush-hush. No one, and I mean no one, knows where this deal is headed. We do know that this: The next generation will still be paying dearly for whatever shakes out of a deal crafted in back rooms and cloaked in secrecy.

We also know since the inception of deregulation, Californians have paid electrical bills 50 percent higher than the national average. We learned in January, thanks to a Utilities Commission — which is falsely advertised as being of and for the “Public” — that those already exorbitant rates were raised, on average, 10 percent. We found out this week, that rates will be jacked up another 9 to 36 percent on top of those rates. The state’s surplus is gone. There’s no doubt at all that basic public services, including funding for education, roads, and fire and police protection, are in for a world of hurt. The bailout price tag so far is estimated to be $28 billion — that’s almost one-third of the state’s total budget. And that’s just the first bill; wait until the others come due.

That’s the long and short of it. You can complain all you want about backroom deals between and among, the politicians, the utilities, out-of-state energy corporations, lobbyists, and the fat cats. It’s all true. They hatched the plot. They passed the money around. They cut the deal. They wrote the law that screwed each and every one of us.

And they’ll keep it up as long as you let them. They’ll keep it up as long as you don’t hold them accountable. They’ll keep it up as long as you keep re-electing them. They’ll keep breaking you until you decide to fix them. Keep that in mind when you pay your next PG&E bill.

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JIM JONES IN MENDOCINO COUNTY

by Bruce Anderson

Another Anniversary of Jim Jones' mass murder of his black parishioners in Guyana was recorded on November 8th, but if it was noted anywhere I didn't see it. Usually the grisly event is squeezed by the media for the gold in its horror content with, as always, the media asking fatuous rhetorical questions like, “How Could It Have Happened?”

How could it not have happened in the media vacuum of the Northcoast, as willfully unseeing then as they are now. Jones should have been media-ambushed way back when he was beating children and looting the Mendocino County Welfare Department, way back when he was first picking up a financial head of steam in Redwood Valley via the cash cow care homes he established in no-questions-asked Mendocino County, maybe all the way back to Boonville where Jones taught the 5th grade for two years at the Anderson Valley Elementary School.

Presenting himself as a warm, wonderful human being doing what he could for healthy race relations in what he claimed was Ukiah's inland sea of roiling racism, Jones not only seduced the fuzzy warms — a pat on the head and an announcement that you are whatever you say you are will do it — he had the Rotary Club and the liberals singing choruses of mea culpas.

The man could hustle. He knew the race card would always come up trumps. Hell, maybe before he got into the speed he really was a good guy, but speed kills as the reverend established like no other tweaker before or since.

When Jones and his white inner circle persuaded their black co-religionists to join them for cyanide cocktails in the Guyana jungle, bureaucrats and judges back in Ukiah ran for their plausible deniabilties. They'd signed a lot of those dead black kids over to Jones, and they'd looked on as Jones, with Temple social workers waving the Temple on through, put his church on welfare benefits they didn't have coming.

And everyone in local authority ignored the persistent rumors of major craziness out at the alleged church in Redwood Valley, including faith healings, beatings, forced public sex and, my favorite, the gun tower. Jones erected beside his church where he'd occasionally post a couple of guys with rifles marching around. He'd tell the media saps that the tower guards were necessary because the “rednecks” were about to bum rush Sunday services, while the rednecks rightly assumed that the Jones gang was just another bunch of weirdos, not much different than other collectives of newly arrived oddballs then appearing everywhere in the county.

Looking back at the major unpunished crimes of Mendocino County — the Fort Bragg Fires, the bombing of Judi Bari, to name two —the common thread is zero pressure from the media to get the responsible people into court. Well, almost zero. The mighty AVA complained about the Fires and the travesty of the Bari case, but we're not the Press Democrat or KZYX, singly or in tandem as the two of them often occur. (The Fort Bragg Fires occurred before Mendocino County Public Radio so we can't blame KZYX's dependably cringing news service for that one.)

But KZYX, from its inception an echo chamber of correct opinion, managed to keep the false version of Bari events front and center for years, thus protecting the killer and financially benefiting the small claque of cult brains surrounding Bari in her last years.

Whenever bad things are allowed to happen blame the media first, then the DA, then the cops, then public education for removing the critical abilities of the past four generations of Americans.

I was new to Mendocino County when Jones was in Redwood Valley. I was, looking back on it, also a rather spectacular intra-racial show myself by rural standards, me with a house full of ethnic minorities. Jones must have heard about us and thought we were a natch for the People's Temple. He sent a delegation to Boonville to scope us out. We played a game of flag football with a People's Temple team. They probably beat us because they were heavy into sports. So were we but they had discipline.

The People's Temple recruiting team was led by a pretty young woman named Maria Katsaris. At Jonestown she would be described as Jones' mistress, as if she and Jones had stepped out of Anna Karenina. Miss Katsaris was Jones's dead mistress by then. She'd been right up on stage urging the church to drink their last Kool-Aid and check on out for an eternity with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Maria's father, Steve Katsaris, ran the large-scale children's institution in Ukiah called Trinity School, formerly an orphanage presided over by Catholic nuns. Katsaris was a Greek Orthodox priest. Maria later told the press he'd molested her, blaming dad for her escape to the lethal embrace of Jones. Maria was ahead of the recovered memory bullshit that came along a few years later as thousands of adult neurotics claimed dear old dad had fouled them, laying off their adult craziness on the old man. Was it Tolstoy who said that children over the age of thirty who are still blaming their parents are simply snivelers and hopeless dings?

The Temple was always denouncing people as perverts, a clear case of projection by Jones who was an amphetamine-driven pervert himself, once having been arrested for soliciting a cop in a public restroom.

When the perv accusations didn't work, they'd send a goon squad of young tough guys to knock on your door and woof in your face.

Most people around here at the time didn't know what to think about it all, but most people, especially liberals, have always been easily intimidated by unhappy persons of color, and totally blinded by happy persons of color, hence, eventually, Obama.

Maria Katsaris wanted to know if we cared to attend services in Redwood Valley. You had to be invited, you see, and she was extending the required invitation. Although houses of God are locked tight and have security cameras and tax exemptions, we'd never heard of one that was RSVP. And we weren't interested anyhow. We were more in tune with that great American deist, Daniel Webster, who built an entire theology on the idea of the acknowledgment of a supreme force without a dependent hierarchy of old men creeping around in black robes mumbling in Latin, nevermind the snake handlers and speakers in tongues and Jim Jones' we get at the more primitive levels of American worship. Webster was driven clear out of the country for his sensible opinions.

A homicidal social worker named Sharon Amos also invited us to the People's Temple. She would cut the throats of her three children, then slash her own jugular in Guyana where she functioned as Jones' gatekeeper in the capital of Georgetown. Ms. Amos, three years before she departed for Jonestown, told us that Jones delivered “amazing sermons” that could last five, seven, even eight hours. We simply must come to Redwood Valley to see and hear for ourselves.

We'd known people in San Francisco who could talk for two days. They were called speed freaks who, when they finally crashed, were often in a state of chemically induced paranoia that came to be known as “amphetamine psychosis.” Today's speed freaks are known as crankers or tweakers. They often tweak themselves into comparable states of amphetamine psychosis that certainly helped propel Jones to his last stand.

When the massacre went down in the jungles of Guyana, Guyana was recalled among the left as the country where the CIA had put a lot of money into overthrowing the socialist government of a man named Chedi Jagan. Jones always called himself a socialist, a fact ignored by Ukiah Rotary and the John Birch Society of inland Mendocino County who, among well-placed others, got Jones appointed foreman of the Mendocino County Grand Jury in 1967 by Judge Winslow, a liberal judge who was himself removed from the bench by conservative local voters unhappy with him for what they perceived as his liberal rulings. (When I asked at the Ukiah Library for that '67 Grand Jury report I was told it had been stolen long ago. it was long ago when I inquired so there may be a latter day copy available.)

By the time People's Temple got to Guyana the country was run by a straight up crook named Forbes Burnham who Jones bribed so the People's Temple could establish itself as an ag outpost on Guyanese rain forest land nobody wanted except the Indians who lived there.

Also at the time of the Jonestown murders, and Ukiah being a smaller, somehow more cohesive town than it is now, all of us who shopped over the hill noticed that people were missing — the produce guy at Safeway, intake clerks at the welfare office, a county road man, the lady at the Ward's Department store on South State Street. They were either dead or in hiding.

People haven't changed. Mendocino County hasn't changed. (In its way, Mendocino County is even wackier, I'd say.) The media haven't changed. They're in the prone position, down from bended knee. Something like Jones could happen again. The internet has made us even more gullible, and the local echo chamber of cool-o opinion is ever larger, and Mendocino County is still the place where history starts all over again every day and you are whatever you say you are. Jones knew that the day he got here.

A brief word for Tim Stoen. People tell me all the time that Tim Stoen, once an Assistant DA for the County and before that, County Counsel, is hiding big secrets. He isn't. Stoen was also victim of Jones, a triple victim you could say, because Jones first appropriated Stoen's wife, then he appropriated Stoen's son, and then he murdered Stoen's son. Tim Stoen has known more tragedy than most of us, and he's always deserved to be left alone.

As for the bigshot Democrats seduced by Jones, Willie Brown's solipsistic look-back in a Sunday Chronicle on an anniversary of the murders: “It's that time of year again,” Brown began. “The anniversary stories are rolling out, and one word says it all: 'Jonestown.' Jim Jones and Jonestown were a real tragedy for George Moscone, for me, for John and Phil Burton, for all of us. We had all gone over to Jones' church on Geary Boulevard. George even put him on the Housing Authority. Jones did have an incredible following at the Peoples Temple and was a real pastor for diversity and for poor people. What happened in Guyana was just horrible for us. We were obviously embarrassed at our lapse of judgment, our lapse of objectivity, our lapse of due diligence. We had no explanation for how stupid we were. We couldn't even be responsible to all these relatives whose folks had died. For San Francisco, and those of us on the elected side, it was a very, very tough time.”

Boo-hoo. Jonestown as a tragedy for Willie Brown and the Democrats. Brown's narcissistic perspective is almost as crazy as Jones was.

The three best books on Jones are Journey To Nowhere by Shiva Naipul; The Life and Death of Jim Jones by James Reston Jr.; and Raven: The Untold Story of the Rev. Jim Jones and His People by John Jacobs and Tim Reiterman.

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FROM THE MENDOCINO BEACON’S old time notes for November 4, 1883: "Black Bart, the gentlemanly, respectable, patriotic, courteous, charitable, merciful, considerate, pious highwayman, after a successful career of six years during which he has committed 23 stage robberies in Northern California with impunity, has at last been bagged by the police, stimulated by the offer of rewards aggregating $18,400. Capt. Harry Morse is one lucky man who will receive the principal part of the money and glory. His history of the tracking and capture of the wily rascal is equal to anything in Pinkerton's book. The unsuspecting manner in which Bart ran his neck into the noose which Morse held for him evidenced anything but shrewdness on his part. His last dodge is to gain immunity by confession. We shall have no doubt of a pamphlet edition of his exploits, which will be a textbook in the hands of boys ambitious of a similar career." Black Bart held up stage coaches on the Willits Grade and between Cloverdale and Ukiah. There were persistent rumors at the time – c. 1880 – that another highwayman was a Ukiah school teacher.

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CATCH OF THE DAY, Saturday, December 7, 2024

BRETT ADAME, 33, Ukiah. Tear gas, paraphernalia, probation revocation, resisting.

KEVIN BECKMAN, 53, Lucerne/Ukiah. Burglary, vandalism, disorderly conduct-loitering, parole violation.

JONATHAN CAMARGO, 36, Ukiah. Paraphernalia, failure to appear, probation revocation.

ALYSSA CRAMER, 34, Dos Rios. Domestic battery.

JUSTICE DALSON, 24, Covelo. DUI-alcohol&drugs.

ROBERT MORENO, 44, Ukiah. Failure to appear, probation revocation.

JOHNNY SHIELDS, 55, Ukiah. Probation revocation.

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A HISTORY OF THE NEAR FUTURE

Here we all are in this Late Empire era. I am delighted and appalled - delighted to be the same sort of witness of it that Rome had - who lived in their villas and kept gardens out in the hills and wrote about the collapse of the Empire - wonderful reporting that we still have thousands of years later as a road map to show us how it goes. Written by the losers. The winners didn't do much writing.

Tens of thousands of people drive, some long distances, to an enormous coliseum, pay to park, pay to be able to sit in a not-very-comfortable plastic chair to watch two men hit each other. Not nice and close so as to feel the heat, the sound, the pain. No, from their seats about 200' away the men are tiny figures like toys. There is a big screen TV far above to let the people see better. The people in the stadium feel superior to the people in bars or at home watching the two men on TV.

And, like Rome, the military consumes much of the Empire's revenue trying to maintain a perimeter far from its center. Wilshire Boulevard, America's most splendid main street, has potholes. Licentiousness and decadence abound - are feted and found amusing. A mad Emperor, our Diocletian, rages playing to the adoring mob.

The part that is so hard for me is that this is a pattern. Not just Rome - look at France before its Revolutionary collapse or Russia or China or so many to see the pattern. They already have your body. What they will crave is your mind. Watch now, it will be the journalists and reporters first. Then the educators. It will be quite a while before they get around to You. One of the few benefits of old age. I used to be more pessimistic.

— Michael Nolan (Comptche)

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MEMO OF THE AIR: The big snit.

Here's the recording of last night's (Friday, 2024-12-06) almost-8-hour Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show on 107.7fm KNYO-LP Fort Bragg (CA) and KNYO.org (and, for the first three hours of the show, also 89.3fm KAKX Mendocino): https://tinyurl.com/KNYO-MOTA-0621

Coming shows can feature your story or dream or poem or essay or kvetch or announcement or whatever. Just email it to me. Or include it in a reply to this post. Or send me a link to your writing project and I'll take it from there and read it on the air.

Besides all that, at https://MemoOfTheAir.wordpress.com you'll find a fresh batch of dozens of links to not-necessarily radio-useful but worthwhile items I set aside for you while gathering the show together, such as:

"Math is not physics. You can always find a bigger number, but you can't always make a bigger laser." It turns out that, past a certain energy level, laser light can physically plug up space like a washcloth in a toilet. https://www.neatorama.com/2024/12/03/How-to-Destroy-Planets-with-Physics

The beautiful racist stereotype galaxy of a hundred billion lazy siesta stars. https://science.nasa.gov/missions/webb/hats-off-to-nasas-webb-sombrero-galaxy-dazzles-in-new-image

This tango film looks sped-up but it's not. The dancers are just that skillful. https://misscellania.blogspot.com/2024/12/tango.html

Watch these engineers build a genuine personal ekranoplan. Or skip directly to their successful first test of it at about 24:10. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLXjjhQ9OW4

And the immense 600-ton! (1,200,000-pound) Soviet-era KM ekranoplan. /A man, o plan, ekran. Ekranoplan!/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVdH_dYlVB8

Marco McClean, memo@mcn.org, https://MemoOfTheAir.wordpress.com

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DEATH VALLEY PUPFISH/EARTHQUAKE

The pupfish habitat in Death Valley was affected by this week's 7.0 earthquake off the coast of Petrolia.

https://www.sfchronicle.com/california/article/northern-california-earthquake-devils-hole-pupfish-19964257.php

Earthquake impacts endangered Devils Hole pupfish habitat (SF Chronicle)

https://www.sfchronicle.com/california/article/northern-california-earthquake-devils-hole-pupfish-19964257.php

A 7.0-magnitude earthquake off Northern California triggered a seiche in Devils Hole, disrupting the habitat of the endangered pupfish.

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EARTHQUAKE

On Thursday, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake struck just offshore from California's north coast. The earthquake hit at 10:44 a,m., PT, about 40 miles west of Petrolia.

A tsunami warning was issued for 5 million residents along parts of the North California and Oregon coastlines, from San Francisco to Eureka, Oregon.

A magnitude 7.0 earthquake releases 2.0 x 10 to the 15th power joules of energy or 2,000 trillion joules.

2,000 terajoules is equivalent to 500 kilotons of TNT.

To put this in context, the Hiroshima bomb, "Little Boy", had an estimated yield of between 12 and 18 kilotons of TNT.

I wrote the following poem about how fragile and how short our lives really are.

Footnote: Since the quake, there’s been around 200 aftershocks surrounding the Mendocino fault from where the quake originated, according to the USGS, which maps quakes over magnitude 2.5.

.

There is splitting firewood

and there is stacking it --

look how easily the wood

slips into the familiar stack.

.

Here on the King Mountain

overlooking Mattole Valley

and Petrolia

we do the simple work.

.

Yesterday's 7.0 earthquake

shook everything

that was already holding

everything else. Today,

.

I gave my back to

re-stacking the firewood,

as my neighbor re-hung

her baby's baby sheets.

.

As she worked, she sang.

As she sang, a garden gate,

which had rusted shut,

swung open. It was then,

.

I was reminded my life

was never mine,

which also means I stand

where three fault lines meet.

. . .

John Sakowicz

The King Mountain, California

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CARNAGE

by Marilyn Davin

The crash of the Democratic Party has hit home – literally. We’re all reluctant liberal Democrats in our family since Bernie lost his presidential nomination by a whisker to Hillary Clinton. Here in the Bay Area, though I’m still pissed about being pepper-sprayed by president-in-training Ronnie Baby while walking to class at UC Berkeley; it’s been pretty much rollin’ along singin’ a song at the dinner table, presidential-election wise.

Until He decided, after more than a quarter century of marriage to my sister-in-law, to join the fray of our family dinner political discussions. “He” is John, my sister-in-law’s Kansas-born accountant husband, who we suspected might be a closet Repug though he had pretty much kept his mouth shut, a survival skill he unsurprisingly must have mastered during his corporate career in über-lib San Francisco.

That all changed recently mid-celebration when John jumped up from the table mid-pie and said (very unkindly) that “people like us have destroyed California” before flouncing out the front door, his majorly humiliated wife trailing along behind him. He further announced on his way out that we would no longer be blessed with his presence at future family events, and is even hosting an “alternative” Christmas dinner the week before Christmas, effectively bifurcating celebration of the holiday. The kids were invited.

This unfortunate family upheaval was closely followed by a rash of demonstrations for freedom of speech here, of all places, in Rossmoor. Rossmoor’s board would clearly prefer that Rossmoor’s 10,000 senior residents confine their complaints to the quality of the golf greens or the temperature of the bar’s martinis, but the outside world inevitably rears its ugly head. The day Trump had his ear shot, a Rossmoor matron walked into the pickleball court and announced the bumbled assassination attempt on Trump — to which another woman, sitting on the bench, enthusiastically shouted “Good!” The announcer than physically attacked the seated woman, causing a kerfuffle serious enough to involve Walnut Creek PD, though the advanced ages of the combatants probably contributed, I was told, in no chargeable physical injuries.

What followed this tempest in a teapot was far worse. Rossmoor canceled its popular and long-running weekly resident political columns in the Rossmoor News, claiming they incited “discord” among residents. (Disclosure: I both wrote and edited the Dem columns for eight years, with nary a shot fired nor an eye blackened.)

Progressive residents did not take this dictat lying down. We made placards decrying the death of the columns, to the point of turning out significant media coverage of our demonstrations at the front gate (Channel 5, Channel 2, the Chron, the L.A. Times and the UK’s Guardian [never underestimate seniors’ professional contacts]). What better news story than a bunch of oldsters protesting their right to free speech in the liberal Bay Area? Several of us spoke at the Rossmoor board meetings in hopes of overturning the ban on the columns, meetings which in retrospect were cynically staged to show “sensitivity to resident concerns.” All to no avail.

So… family-wise, it has now been decreed that all political discussions are verboten at extended-family dinners (though I doubt the sole Trumper will start attending again), and our community weekly is filled with both more marketing ads about what a great place this is to live and more vacuous “columns” about aging gracefully and being on the lookout for signs of dementia.

Why doesn’t this frictionless environment feel better than it does? Premature death is more like it: all peaceful, unfailingly polite, easier to digest than Wonder Bread, and as inoffensive on the tongue as plain vanilla.

When Nixon was elected President back in 1968 my liberal, politically active parents were upset. Very upset. Yet they didn’t envision the death of democracy or jettison the few Republicans in their broad social circle. (Though one of my mom’s friends, married to a Republican, once dumped a martini on her husband’s head at a party. No daggers were unsheathed or pistols drawn.)

Now that I reflect on the martini-dumping incident, maybe what we lack today is a collective sense of humor. (If you miss political cartoons as much as I do watch Michael Smerconish at 6 a.m. Saturday mornings on CNN, read his books or his many radio/social media commentaries.)

Everyone laughed as the icy gin dripped down Mr. Stockton’s face back in 1968, and the incident joined many others in the annals of neighborhood lore at the time.

Today I suppose someone would have felt traumatized and called his or her attorney. My parents just kept right on truckin’ with their usual political and civic activities and hoped for better luck next time.

So where does all this leave those of us who have written about the world, in one way or another, for nearly all of our professional lives? Sadly, just as bifurcated as our politics: seeking out ever more finely defined groups of like-minded souls. When I have voiced complaints about the shallowness of “mass market” news, I’m frequently told, “Just go to Blog XYZ.” I have no interest in endlessly probing the depths of the internet for informed news sources, though I have bottomless sympathy for younger journalists forced into this techno-marketplace to put food on the table.

This is what we’ve become: a country of poorly educated, misinformed, shopaholic consumers with fleeting attention spans: kinda like Trump himself.

The difference is that the clear morning light after a rough night can be a catalyst for better future behavior…while Trump will always be the same old predatory felon.

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SHANE MCCARTHY:

In light of current events, the sheer volume of medical insurance horror stories I've read shines a harsh light on the bipartisan lived experience of many, if not most Americans.

Stories brushed aside or endured in silence. Things ignored to preserve the bubble that our system is just, and fair, if you were lucky enough to have "good" coverage.

I'm confident you can't throw a rock and not hit someone who doesn't have a harrowing experience of dead child, a passed spouse, an expired loved one caused by bureaucratic interference in medical diagnosis from a licensed professional.

If it's scary for the government bureaucrat to dictate how your doctor can help you, how is some white collar middle manager in a call center less alarming?

Even more so when their bonus increases when you or your loved one die earlier than expected? Is that not a "death panel"?

This system is not good for anyone, not even the people profiting from it, in the big picture.

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ON-LINE COMMENT OF THE DAY

God? Ha. As I progress in age to my twilight years my wisdom has evolved. My faith in God isn't what it used to be in the days of my youth. Today I believe two things about God. 1; God created us and has long since died off. 2; God created us and then took off with its buddies to play eternal golf on a golf paradise world and doesn't give a flying fuck about its creations.

I don't deny there is or was a God. But I no longer have faith that God is intimately involved with humanity. Either way, we are boned. It is up to us to issue justice upon the evildoers and that will never happen.

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EDWARD HOPPER (1882-1967)

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OUR FRIEND JARED HUFFMAN

The Democrat Who Was Tired of Waiting His Turn

Amid a growing desire for change in leadership, Rep. Jared Huffman challenged a more senior lawmaker for a top committee post.

by Eugene Daniels

For all the ambition coursing through Congress, Democrats tend to wait their turn to an astonishing degree. With seniority the main factor in determining who claims top committee posts, lawmakers can go years before having a chance to be a chair or ranking member. But in the wake of the party’s stinging 2024 election defeat, that’s changing.

Rank-and-file Democrats have already pushed aside aging stalwarts like Reps. Jerry Nadler and Raúl Grijalva — the top Democrats on the Judiciary and Natural Resources Committees, respectively — in part because they think some younger blood is needed to oppose the next Donald Trump administration. And Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is now making a play to lead her party at the Oversight Committee.

In an interview with the Playbook Deep Dive podcast, Rep. Jared Huffman, who helped nudge Grijalva out by launching a bid for the Natural Resources job, discussed the generational shift taking place among House Democrats. He also acknowledged conversations with his friend Rep. Jamie Raskin, who just toppled Nadler, about challenging their elders.…

https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2024/12/07/intergenerational-warfare-hits-house-democrats-00193101

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TOP HEDGE FUND MANAGER WARNS OF A MARKET CRASH IN 2025

6 Signs Of A Market Crash On Its Way

Are we heading into a market bubble ready to burst? In this video, we dive into Ray Dalio's six critical signals for identifying stock market bubbles.…

https://www.msn.com/en-us/money/economy/dalio-6-signs-of-a-market-crash-on-its-way/vi-AA1vqkXU

(John Sakowicz)

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SUNDAY'S LEAD STORIES, NYT

Syrian Leader Resigns and Leaves Country, Russia Says

Syrians Mourn All They Have Lost, Even as They Celebrate

U.S. Spy Agencies Monitor Chemical Weapons Sites, Fearing Use in Syria

How to Understand Syria’s Rapidly Changing Civil War

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SYRIANS STORM BASHAR AL-ASSAD'S PRESIDENTIAL PALACE IN DAMASCUS as rebels declare the country is 'free' and tear down statues of deposed leader - as search begins for 'tyrant' after he flees during dramatic collapse of his bloodthirsty regime

by Matt Strudwick

Syrians have stormed Bashar al-Assad's presidential palace in Damascus as rebels declare that the country is 'free' from the 'tyrant'.

The opposition fighters reached the suburbs of the capital yesterday for the first time since the region was recaptured by government troops in 2018.

Syrian state television showed the rebels milling around inside the despot's palace after he reportedly this morning fled on a plane to an unknown destination. 

Military and intelligence officials are being quizzed by the rebel soldiers about al-Assad's whereabouts as they try to pinpoint his movements.…

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-14170299/syria-civil-war-storm-al-assad-palace-damascus.html

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ASSAD IS OUT, WOKE AL-QAEDA IS IN

by Caitlin Johnstone

Well it looks like the government of Syrian president Bashar al-Assad is on its way out, likely to be replaced by one or more US puppet regimes depending on whether the nation maintains its current borders or is carved up into separate states. The empire notches another win.

I am not a military analyst, but analysts who are normally supportive and optimistic in favor of Assad like Elijah Magnier and Pepe Escobar are saying this is the end. Assad’s whereabouts are unknown as Turkish-backed fighters and al-Qaeda-linked forces with a history of western backing have swept through the country with alarming speed, and now Russia and Iran have joined with the governments of US-aligned nations like Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Jordan and Turkey in calling for an end to the fighting in favor of a political solution. CNN reports that opposition forces have entered Damascus in search of Assad, and footage reportedly shows Assad forces retreating from the area where the president’s main residence is located.

The US proxy warfare in Lebanon and Ukraine makes a lot more strategic sense now; by tying up Hezbollah and Russia in other conflicts, the path was opened up for another run on Damascus and a chance to further cut off Hezbollah from supplies. Many pundits on my end of the commentary spectrum had been calling those proxy wars self-defeating and framing them as the desperate flailings of a dying empire which will only accelerate its demise, but now here we are watching the empire score a victory it’s been chasing for years, with the western/Israeli stranglehold on the middle east growing tighter than ever.

Meanwhile the press is falling all over itself to support this regime change by promoting the narrative that al-Qaeda is woke now.

CNN just released a coddling softball interview with Abu Mohammed al-Jolani, the former ISIS and al-Qaeda member who leads the Syrian opposition group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, which is itself a rebranded offshoot of al-Qaeda in Syria. Jolani told CNN that he has reformed from his radical ways of the past, saying, “Sometimes it’s essential to adjust to reality,” adding, “someone who rigidly clings to certain ideas and principles without flexibility cannot effectively lead societies or navigate complex conflicts like the one happening in Syria.”

Now the imperial press are full of headlines like “How Syria’s rebel leader went from radical jihadist to a blazer-wearing ‘revolutionary’” from CNN, “Syria’s rebel leader Golani: From radical jihadist to ostensible pragmatist” from The Times of Israel, and “How Syria’s ‘diversity-friendly’ jihadists plan on building a state” from The Telegraph.

Only a matter of time before we start seeing former ISIS and al-Qaeda members chatting it up on liberal western talk shows with their preferred gender pronouns listed next to their names.

As luck would have it, these “diversity-friendly jihadists” have been telling the Israeli press that they “love Israel” and won’t do anything to harm its interests, so it’s safe to say that this “revolution” has been about as organically grown as a sheet of crystal meth.

One of the many perks of being the world’s dominant superpower is that it gives you the luxury of time. If one regime change operation fails, don’t worry, you can just move some chess pieces around and take another shot at it. If a coup attempt fails in Latin America, relax, there will be other coup attempts. If your efforts to grab Syria fail, you can just smash it with sanctions and occupy its oil fields to impoverish it while overextending its military allies in proxy conflicts elsewhere and grab it later.

A good kickboxer throws many combinations with the understanding that most strikes will miss or be blocked or cause minimal damage, trusting that eventually the one knockout blow will get through.

No empire lasts forever, but there’s no evidence that this one is going away any time in the immediate future. This ugliness could conceivably drag itself out for generations.

(caitlinjohnstone.com.au)

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