LAPD Not to Be Taken Too Lightly, or Too Seriously

LAPD, as a Demigod of Los Angeles, is a Jealous Demigod. He doesn't like to be trifled with. He doesn't like to have His authority questioned and most of all, He doesn't want His minions attacked.

The only thing necessary to disrupt the lives of thousands and to destroy a neighborhood in Los Angeles is for someone to shoot a cop. Once again, a cop was shot (this time not by himself) and the whole of the LAPD surrounded a neighborhood and proceeded to destroy a house. LAPD has a new toy. It's called BatCat, it cost over a million dollars and weighs 39,000 pounds.

Cops responded to a domestic violence call and one of them was shot at the door. Bad news. Certainly the kind of thing that deserves a heavy response from the police.

SWAT, a bunch of cops wearing nazi helmets and body armor, took over the scene, not having any illicit poker games to raid at the moment. Then comes the heavy stuff: Not being content to just warn folks of the danger in the neighborhood and telling them to stay indoors and keep their guns handy just in case, they kick people in the surrounding area out of their homes and send them......where? Away!

Despite SWAT having many excellent snipers, and despite several reported appearances of the madman iat the windows of his house--with his rifle and sometimes firing at police--no sniper even too a shot at him.

Comes the BatCat. As if waiting to try out this new toy, the police do nothing until it arrives. They set it to tearing the house apart one wall after another. The mind boggles. Apparently, in spite of the wanton destruction, they didn't find the guy right away. They finally sent in a robot camera in and they found him dead on an apparently intact bit of floor

They still haven't said whether he was shot by police or whether he shot himself. I'm guessing the latter.

I'm also wondering: if they hadn't found him in his now ruined house, would they have taken the awesome BatCat to tear up the house next door? Knowing LAPD's penchant for overkill, as seen in several events over past decades, anything is possible.

Sometimes I think I stay here to observe all the Los Angeles excesses.

There ain't no government like no government regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

A Well Lived, Happy and Eventful Life

Yesterday, I finally gathered together a small sum of cash I'd been wanting to use for the purpose of buying some common silver coins, for use in the event of disaster to make purchases on the black market. I'm convinced that this will become an issue, maybe soon. I've been making these small purchases, as I can, for many years. If such a disaster never happens, I'll have a coin collection to sell to augment my retirement, should I ever decide to do so.

The gentleman 'bout whom I write will not. He'll die on the job, having lived a happy, healthy life.

I walked into his store in the early afternoon. It's a little hole-in-the-wall just off a major boulevard, almost unnoticeable among the sidewalk cafes and trendy shops. COINS & STAMPS, it says on the window. I stepped inside; there was no one there--just glass cases full of silver dollars, half dollars etc, and a wall covered with envelopes full of stamps.

An elderly man stepped out from the back room with a smile and a "Can I help you?" I told him I was looking for circulated, common date silver--probably half dollars. He directed me toward a case filled with various styles of halves--Franklin, Liberty Walking and Barber. I presume he had some Liberty Seated halves in the safe, but they're out of my price range and too valuable to use as cash.

After a few minutes looking at various coins and package deals, we settled on a package and a price.

I offered him my debit card, but he says he doesn't accept cards or checks; just cash. Well, fortunately I had enough cash to make the transaction. "I like to keep things simple," he said. I told him, "That's fine, I'll make sure I have cash with me in the future, as well."

By way of explaining his preference for cash, he started talking about his youth in Boston. In high school, he got a job in a coin and stamp store and began saving a little money. This was in the middle years of the Great Depression. He started putting a little money away just in case.

His parents were secure in their careers and he continued living at home even after he graduated high school . They wanted him to go to college, but he kept putting it off.

He rented a little storefront downtown for $20 a month and set up a coin and stamp store, not long after graduation.

He told me he would close the shop and go down the street to a deli for lunch each day, then go across the street to a Cadillac dealer and look at a particular black LaSalle coupe he liked. It was priced at $997. A 60 Series Cadillac's prices started at $1200. The salesman started referring to him as the "Lookie Lou." He studied that car every day for a long time. One day the salesman addressed him as "Lookie Lou" and asked him why he kept looking at the car.

"I'm going to buy it." "When?" "Now." "How are you going to pay for it?" the salesman chuckled.

"I'll write a check. You can call the ****** Bank and talk to Mr. ******."

Fact was, the young man-had, by that time, well over a thousand dollars saved up. He bought the car.

He was drafted into the Army in the early part of WWII. Because of his high scores in the tests, and his performance during basic training, he was kept on as a drill instructor. He attained the rating of Staff Sergeant. He was sent over to Europe in time to participate in the D-Day attack, where 17 of the 40 men in his platoon were killed or wounded.

After the war, he reopened his coin and stamp shop, married a lady who had been an Army nurse over there. They moved to Los Angeles in the early 1950's, where he opened another coin & stamp shop in downtown LA, then to where he is now. He worked alone in his shop every day except Sunday and Monday, though now he only opens for afternoons.

He'll be 90 this spring, and says he'll keep the shop open as long as he's able. He loves his work, and says it's what helps keep him healthy.

One of the neat things about my two-plus hour visit with him: No paperwork. I handed him the cash, he handed me the coins, and we shook hands. The way it's supposed to be.

They've killed Freedom! Those bastards!

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Just When You Think They Can't Get More Stupid....

The one thing that every elected official and top-level appointed employee of el Pueblo de Los Angeles is that each and every one of them is stupid beyond belief. Individuals who can actually do things never become Bureau chiefs or City Councilmen. El Alcalde's main ability is that of straight-arming his way in front of any news camera that is anywhere within line-of-sight, toppling all those in his way as if they were tenpins.

Allow me to illustrate.

Very recently, a directive came down from City Hall to the effect that "Men Working" signs and other signs that use such politically incorrect words and language be changed to "People Working," and similar.

At a time when el Pueblo is allegedly strapped for cash, every city agency that uses street signs must throw them away and replace them with "gender neutral" signs, at a cost of hundreds of thousands of dollars to already cash-strapped taxpayers.

City engineers have already been required to remove the word "manhole" from all construction drawings, plans and specifications in favor of "person hole." No, that can't be right. It raises another entire raft of forbidden thoughts and the attendant snickers, wheezes and guffaws. Nope, it was, after thousands of hours of high-priced deliberations, decided to call them "Maintenance Holes." To this day, I notice a momentary pause and involuntary intake of breath every time I stubbornly refer to the structures as "manholes," when in company of a younger city employee.

While this might seem incredibly stupid to just about any rational individual, stand by. This is el Pueblo de Los Angeles. Soon or late, they'll come up with something even more stupid!

The true stuff is the funny stuff. --Mort Sahl

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Dating In The 21st Century

When I was a wee lad, those many years ago, even the bums riding the rails wore suit jackets and hats--often a long time between cleanings, and usually a mite threadbare, but they wore 'em. Men dressed in suits for dinner in a restaurant, and wore suits for indoor work and hats (if not hardhats) for outdoor work.

Things have deteriorated over time. The breakdown seems to have happened during the late 1960's to early 1970's.

I've been working nights lately, doing in-street work on the very busy (and very narrow and winding) Laurel Canyon Boulevard. For a lunch break, I paused for an early breakfast at Jerry's Famous Deli, in Studio City. I've eaten there many times over the years, and though it's a mite pricey, the food makes it worthwhile. Good cooks, fair portions and a New York deli style I learned to value some time ago. And, they're open 24 hours.

Last night (or this morning) I arrived at about 1:00am. Shortly after I was seated, I saw a lovely young woman returning to her booth, directly next to mine, from the bathroom. She was wearing a delightful yellow summer dress, her hair was done nicely and she looked like the kind of girl any man would be proud to bee seen with. The only flaw I could see was that unfortunate predilection many women have to wear their bra straps visible alongside her dress straps. Tacky, but apparently in style with some.

Momentarily, her date joined her in the booth.

This dope was wearing a pair of those atrocious baggy denim shorts--you know, the ones that are so long and baggy that they can be mistaken for jeans for a fat, but very short guy. I blame baxabaw for this sad trend. The short bit of leg that sticks out of these....er....dare I call them garments?--makes them look like Eric Cartman, of South Park fame. Oh, my! To continue the fashion statement, the otherwise good-looking fellow wore a "wife beater" shirt, was fashionably unshaven (fashionable twenty-odd years ago), had his hair cut so short he looked like he's recently taken chemotherapy treatments, and was heavily tattooed on his arms, shoulders and perhaps more.

The contrast was startling!

Now, we all know that many young women are incredibly careless in their choices in men and their lack of feminine restraint in their company. The high numbers of single mothers easily attest to their lack of discrimination and resolve.

This lovely young woman obviously spent a lot of time preparing for her date, and her date looks like he spent the day leaning against a lamp post in East LA.

Women should take the initiative and require that their dates look presentable, be clean and neat as well as polite and respectful.

Darwin was wrong!

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Plenty of Money For Guns, None to Fix the Ravaged Streets

For months we here in and around El Pueblo de Los Angeles have been regaled by Antonio Vinaigrette, el alcalde, with his song of woe regarding the city's financial shortfall--never once blaming himself for his dozens of wasteful and useless programs. Listen to any local news broadcast and you'll hear of proposals to cut programs--never the useless ones which give millions to people whose main characteristic is that they don't feel like working for a living, but rather to lay off teachers and police officers.

Laying off a few of the useless layers of management and administration is never suggested, but just those who do the work--however poorly.

Drive the length of Wilshire Boulevard , if you dare. Everywhere along its length--from downtown to the Miracle Mile financial district to wealthy Westwood and on into wealthier Brentwood, and you'll find yourself bouncing and banging about like a medieval farmer in an oxcart over a cobble road, fighting to miss the bigger and deeper potholes and rough, poorly done patch jobs.

There are a couple of exceptions: As one drives to the west, he'll eventually find himself entering the city of Beverly Hills. It's easy to tell you're entering Beverly Hills. Suddenly Wilshire Boulevard is a smooth, asphalted throughway, virtually devoid of irregularities. Keep driving. Soon, as Rod Serling used to say, There will be a signpost. It says: "Welcome to Los Angeles." The sign isn't necessary, as the street immediately becomes bumpy and full of cracks and potholes again. Like flipping a switch.

To one who lives in el pueblo, it's embarrassing. It's entirely the fault of el alcalde, who likes to lavish city taxpayer money 'pon the gang thugs with whose parents he once lazed on the sidewalks of East LA. Sidewalks which were in much better repair then, than now.

Alcalde Vinaigrette has, acording to this story broadcast on KCAL-TV, recently announced a new wasteful plan to throw away city funds: another gun buyback campaign. KCAL, affiliated with CBS News, appears to approve of this scam, and reports it in glowing terms.

A number of pickup points have been established at which one can take his $600 Glock, turn it in for a certificate worth $100 worth of groceries. What a deal! Your really mean-looking $1500 rifle or carbine is worth $200 in groceries.

El pueblo, ever looking for new ways to throw away money, isn't even going to resell these little treasures to honest citizens to turn a profit, but they're going to destroy them. So they say.

The Invisible Man could undoubtedly sneak into the dens of any of several of el alcalde's pal's and find the best of the weapons that will be scammed from the more stupid gunowners who will go for the groceries.

Better yet, it's all "no questions asked!" Any criminal can steal a gun, kill a member of a rival gang, then have his girlfriend turn the gun in for some groceries. The murder will never be solved.

There are actually people (not many) who will give up a perfectly good gun for $100--el pueblo has no shortage of really dumb people--though most of the guns they get will be useless old chunks of metal that no prudent individual would dream of trying to fire.

But Wilshire Boulevard will remain bumpy and full of potholes. As will Santa Monica Boulevard, Imperial Highway, Ventura Boulevard, La Brea Boulevard and countless others. El Pueblo de Los Angeles will remain in dire financial straits as this alcalde and the next continue to waste money on all manner of scams and boondoggles, filling their own bank accounts as part of the deal.

Remember: VOTE FOR NO INCUMBENTS!

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Addendum:

This past Friday night, the Street Department actually repaved a few blocks of Sunset Boulevard in the heart of Hollywood. They did an excellent job, which shows that they can. Oddly, or not so oddly, all the local news shows made a super big deal about it, including interviews with local denizens, a couple of workers and (predictably) even a couple of City officials. What this tells me, is that this is rarely done, and is cause for special notice whenever it happens.

In a city like Los Angeles, a crew should be working on one street or another full time, year after year. We have no shortage of streets that desperately need repaving. Programs like the gun buyback simply waste money that could help pay for things like this.

By His Gods Ye Shall Know Him

I was opposed to GHW Bush's Iraq war from the start. The short reason? Iraq hasn't attacked the US. Iraq's oil is Iraq's oil, not ours. I might lament the fact that the oil isn't owned by a number of private oil firms, but I have no chips in that pot.

I don't know how much GHWB's war had to do with the intensification of the crazed islamist hatred of all things civilized, but the Clinton Presidency did no good calming things down. Now, since the destruction of the World Trade Center, it seems that GW Bush has plunged the US into a 100-Years War by taking his eyes off the puck and swinging his stick at everyone in the area.

I was guardedly ok with the military effort to capture Osama bin Llama and his crazed henchmen and bringing them to justice. The problem was, like often happens with power-mad politicians, GWB couldn't be satisfied with just that.

The result is that much of the middle east is at war with the US, and with Israel. Well, they've always been at war with Israel.

Now, we have a new power-mad President who ran, in part, on the proposition that we end the war in the middle east. Well, B Hussein Obama isn't ending the war quickly enough to satisfy America's tantrum-prone, anti-intellectual anti-war-when-they-want-to-be far left.

I could join an anti-war rally, theoretically. I am opposed to the war on Constitutional grounds, as well as philosophical ones.

There was an anti-war protest in Hollywood yesterday to mark, as this story in today's Daily News reports, six years since the US invasion of Iraq.

The above photo tells me all I need to know to make me decide to steer very clear of this kind of event. The most prominent protester in this particular photo wears a vest with photos of the evil Che Guevara, one of Fidel Castro's bloodthirstiest murderers. This savage killer helped Fidel Castro gain control of what was once a tropical paradise in the Caribbean, Cuba.

The long-standing blockade against trade and tourism into Castro's Cuba, and the world's fawning leftist media, are the only reasons we don't know the extent of the suffering and death caused by the Castro regime.

They are the same reasons why idiot leftists can worship Guevara without getting the crap beaten out of them on every street corner. I'll wager no one wears a Guevara t-shirt in many portions of Miami, where Cubans in exile patiently wait for Castro to die.

How the image of Che Guevara fits with anti-war activism isn't clear, since Guevara was anything but a pacifist. I guess we have to write it off to the utter irrationality of the leftist anti-war movement--so bereft of philosophical consistency that the stark contradiction cannot be seen.

With "friends" like these.......

Warm regards

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

It Was A Freer Country In 1969

For weeks I looked at these murals and wondered who did them, why, and what they mean. They're popping up on large buildings all over El Pueblo de Los Angeles. You see them on the sides of buildings on Highland Blvd, on Hollywood, on Vine, on Sunset, on La Brea--many other places. They must've cost a fortune to put in place, and there are many of them.

The leftist junta that runs El Pueblo is united in their hatred of these murals.

Now, you have to understand--if any naked savage, ethnic minority or member of any so-called minority group paints any ugly, primitive, spray-can mural on any wall in any ethnic neighborhood, it's applauded as "the expression of the people." It doesn't matter how hideous it might look, as long as it's painted with more than one color (single color murals are, obviously, graffiti, and subject to obliteration as soon as the property owner gets around to it).

Moreover, if an approved "expression of the people" starts looking a bit weather-worn, el alcalde is likely to assign funds to have it restored.

Have you ever seen the Watts Towers? Oh my!

Meanwhile, Los Angeles' ruling leftist junta is apoplectic about these Statue of Liberty murals. The only reason I can think of is that they were done by a rich white guy.

City Councilman Jack Weiss, a white guy shot through with guilt over both his race and his wealth, who stands so far to the left of center that he has to talk long distance to LA's news media, is at the forefront of the fight against the First Amendment on this issue.

Weiss is the leader of a gang of thugs who not only want--and think they have--final right of approval of not only every commercial billboard within the city limits, but every public art display as well. O! How a certain type of neurotic lusts for total unjustified power over the largest and smallest acts of others!

According to a Reuters story,

Councilman Jack Weiss, who represents West Los Angeles and Hollywood, stated the city should file charges against McNeilly. "People shouldn't be doing
this. And the city attorney should go after them aggressively and throw the
book at them," he said, according to David Zahniser in the Los Angeles Times,
Jan. 1, 2009.

Leave it to a guilt-riddled socialist to focus 'pon a patriotic theme, and then to set the war dogs of the state on that, rather than on the many ills that plague El Pueblo, the vast majority of which are caused by these selfsame leftists.

Unwarranted arrogance, thy name is Jack Weiss!

Meanwhile, Mike McNeilly, the artist who created the murals, replies thusly,

"The City's action is creating a chilling effect on First Amendment rights.
Threats of fines and jail for creating a mural of the Statue of Liberty in
America or Los Angeles is just not right. Using the power of government to
censor artistic and political speech is un American," responds artist Mike
McNeilly.

"The murals of the Statue of Liberty are an artistic and political expression
protected by the First Amendment. The series of murals depict the iconic
symbol of freedom and liberty and the year 1969, a year of great
accomplishments and change in America. The seeds of the Internet sown,
Woodstock, Vietnam war divides America and Apollo 11, man's first steps on the
moon. The three colors of the sky behind 'Liberty' represent ... red for the
crisis and challenges America faces now, white for clarity in seeing truth and
justice and blue for hope and change. The tear in the eye of Liberty is for
the sacrifices made by our soldiers, first responders and veterans protecting
our security, rights and freedom," he further states.

Now, I don't think I'd pick the year 1969 as my benchmark year, but it's Mr McNeilly's choice and he's paying the tab.

The 900-lb gorilla in the room, that everyone wants to ignore is the principle of property rights. The owner of every one of those buildings let, for whatever remuneration (that's none of my business, nor that of Jack Weiss), gave his permission for Mr McNeilly to place the mural on the side of his building. That, really, is the extent of the approvals necessary for the transaction to occur.

Petty little would-be dictators like Weiss and, for sure, other members of the ruling leftist junta, have no business involved in an area in which they have no expertise, nor any share in the ownership of these properties. They are equally restrained by the tenets of the Founding Documents as are any of us, and ought to stick to (and learn to be limited by) the boundaries of their job descriptions.

Those job descriptions do not include harassment of works of art they don't have the good taste to find aesthetically pleasing.

They've killed Freedom! Those bastards!

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Let Them Eat Sprouts

One of the reasons, I guess, that I stay in El Pueblo de Los Angeles is the drama. Home of Hollywood, Surf City, Beverly Hills and the famous San Fernando Valley, LA seems to be the place from which all the nuttiness that sweeps the world springs. It's hip! it's happenin'!

It also seems to be the fount of all the big government meddling scams that sweep the several state capitals and, finally, Washington DC.

• The anti-air pollution movement? started in LA.
• Hippies? Right here.
• Anti-nuclear power? LA, again.
• Freeways? LA.
• Smoking bans in bars? El Pueblo.
• Chain cosmetic surgery? Our own Beverly Hills.
• Health food craze? Still, LA.
• Anti-obesity? See above.
  

The list could go on, but I'll be merciful.

This time it's the LA City Council. I don't think anyone other than a far-left loon could get elected to the LA City Council even if he got to count the votes.

This last, the anti-obesity thing, is the excuse the LA feudal lords and....no, calling them ladies would be way too much stretch....for calling a moratorium on fast food in South-Central LA. See the sordid story here.

It used to be called South-Central. In yet another moronic move by the City Council a few years ago, 'twas decided that changing the name of the district from South-Central LA to simply South LA, would wholly change the character from a poor, crime-ridden racial ghetto to a pleasant, tree-lined suburb. Well, it's still a poor, crime-ridden racial ghetto. And, it's still called South-Central by nearly everyone but the LA City Council.

They won't actually do anything about the street crime, because it might offend someone.

Businesses won't relocate or set up branches in South-Central because they'll be vandalized and robbed, and there are relatively few buyers and employable workers there.

There is, however, no shortage of fast food stores and liquor stores.

The sages at City Council have, at times, threatened to close down the liquor stores, as if that constitutes a cure for alcoholism. In the linked story, they apply the same (none dare call it) logic to repair the largely imaginary obesity problem.

Yet, a majority of those misguided individuals who vote for City Councilfolk keep returning these incredibly dysfunctional idjits to the Council term after term. They do nothing but make speeches that say nothing, dedicate horribly tasteless art projects at municipal parks and buildings and call for higher taxes.

In the dreamworld in which a Ruth's Chris will open at Crenshaw and Imperial, who in that neighborhood will have a hundred fifty dollars or so to treat his date to a steak dinner. Well, there are several crack sellers that might, but they spend their leisure time on Rodeo Drive or in Westwood. Nobody'll open a Ruth's Chris in South Central.

It'll be Church's and McDonald's for most of those folks--not that I think there's anything wrong with them--even if they have to take a bus to Inglewood for it. That is, until that same dreamworld City Council lightens up on their tax load so they can afford to improve themselves.

All government can do is take things away.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Kroozin' the Boulevard--A Criminal Offense

Two stories appeared one after the other on KTTV Fox News At Ten this evening; laughable in the stupidity so ably illuminated.

The first story has been an ongoing lie on the part of local government: apparently our New York/Boston import Chief of Police, William Bratton still believes that gang murders and other gang activity isn't racially motivated. In the same story, LA County's Sheriff Lou Baca, who rarely utters any other comment that that his department needs a larger budget, disagrees He says that some part of gang criminal activity is racially motivated. Duh!

The underlying message of the Police of El Pueblo de Los Angeles is that they really don't want to seriously attack gang activity. El alcalde, Antonio Vinaigrette, after all, was once a gangster himself before he found it more fun to be a philanderer.

Instead, the city police, the county deputy sheriffs and the California Highway Patrol (all ordered to extract the maximum possible legal tender from every possible motorist, to help mitigate the deficit) have decided it would be far easier and more fun to make driving, as Chuck Berry says, "With No Particular Place To Go," illegal on Hollywood and Sunset Boulevards.

Over the years youths, including myself years ago (hell, who am I kidding--I still do it once in a while!), enjoyed kroozin' the various major boulevards in LA just to see and be seen, check out the chicks (who are checking out the guys), and to stop by Tubby's for a burger and fries. For an idea of what I mean, watch the movie "American Graffiti."

Van Nuys Blvd, Whittier Blvd, Bristol Blvd and many others have been favorite Kroozin' streets over the years, and all have been rendered illegal Kroozin' streets by cops with nothing better to do (while real criminals run rampant, virtually unchecked).

Now, it's the natural kroozin' circuit--up on Hollywood, back on Sunset. The bastards.

I'm wondering if there's an attorney who will sue the agencies for gas taxes and license fees for our having been deprived of the right to the pursuit of happiness.

Cops say it's because the Kroozers make a lot of noise and disturb neighborhoods. I'm pausing to clean up the Diet Coke I splattered all over my screen, laughing when I heard that! If you've ever been in the Hollywood/West Hollywood portions of those streets, there ain't no quiet. Ever. Well, maybe between three and five in the morning you'll hear not much but the drunks, snoring on the sidewalks.

There's no fine for that.

But there is a minimum $275 fine for Kroozin'. And, they've doubled it for the duration of the state, county and city deficits.

They've killed Freedom! Those bastards!

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Gang Problems In The Barrio? Let's Patrol the Amusement Parks!

We are all aware (except for the Chief of Police of El Pueblo de Los Angeles) that there are numerous gangs, who are at each others' throats over both race and turf. They battle, almost exclusively, within the poor neighborhoods--their own or those of their rivals. We rarely hear of much gang activity in Holmby Hills or Palos Verdes.

Imagine my ironic chuckle as I read this story in today's Los Angeles Daily News. The headline, "CityWalk In Cops' Spotlight," in which a large bit of our law enforcement dollar will apparently be spent.

"In an effort to stop a gang problem before it starts, police who patrol Universal CityWalk are getting extra help over the next month to keep the San Fernando Valley hilltop tourist attraction safe as the popular summer season heats up.

"For years, the restaurant, entertainment and shopping strip bordering Universal Studios has been the kind of place Los Angeles-area gang members have brought their girlfriends - but not their guns, police say."

So, in an effort to fight gangs, say police, money is being set aside to patrol CityWalk, to patrol what is essentially a very nice, Disney-like, restaurant and souvenir shop row adjacent to the Universal City Studios theme park.

Never mind that Universal City has private security that rivals that of Disneyland. Never mind that, while gangsters frequent the place, gang crime within the CityWalk environs is quite rare. Rather than put our police out where the crime is, to combat that element of society which is a danger to us all, for which they're paid handsomely. Don't believe the propaganda that police are underpaid--Los Angeles police, if you consider their retirement and a long list of other benefits that are part of their remuneration, are paid quite well.

So, I'm sure that hard core gangsters are relieved that, as long as they avoid Universal CityWalk, they can pretty much do as they please. They can carry arsenals under their baggy clothes while honest individuals can be prosecuted for carrying a handgun to be able, one hopes, to do for themselves that which the police are not available to do.

They've killed Freedom! Those bastards!

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

In Search of Clean Air

The first time I visited El Pueblo de Los Angeles was in 1961, which happened to be the same year I graduated High school. I had just finished boot camp in San Diego and came to LA to visit my grandparents, who had moved here several years earlier.

Gramp took me downtown one day, sightseeing. We also cruised through Hollywood and Beverly Hills. One of the most memorable things was the foulness of the air. It was a hot day, and it seemed like it was foggy. It wasn't fog. The smog was a palpable thing. It smelled, made my eyes water and caused occasional coughing jags.

Five years later, my new bride and I drove into LA on a rainy September day, to better our lives. A mere few days later, after the unseasonable rain cleared out and it became hot and sunny, the smog closed in once again.

I eventually got used to it, though from time to time it became too obvious to ignore. The sun was dull in the sky. From a window fourteen or so stories up, the ground couldn't be seen. Buildings looked like they grew out of fog. It wasn't fog. Once, I flew into LAX on a hot, sunny day. LA looked like a sea of fog with several dozen of its taller buildings sticking out.

Over the years since, the state has created many thousands of laws designed to fight smog. Most of them merely served to help impoverish the less well off in California, but some of them actually worked. The state faltered, stumbled and spent billions, most of it wasted, but in the past ten years the smog has been lessened to a degree that it isn't so much noticed anymore.

Oh, I won't say the air's clean. Not exactly. There's still noticeable smog, occasionally, in the east at the San Bernardino foothills, but nothing like it was.

One could say that we ought to stand pat. The free market (if it were allowed to work) would supply us with a cheap, clean replacement for the gasoline-powered engine, eventually.

The point of this little history lesson? Several years ago, in spite of the rational arguments of many, the evil and stupid California Air Resources Board (CARB), decided that raw gasoline, evaporating into the atmosphere, was a major cause of smog--the same smog that was even then a diminishing problem. After much experimentation, testing, bribery of CARB officials and state legislators, the state was divided into zones. One zone was the San Diego, LA, western San Bernardino and Riverside counties and the San Francisco area. The other, the rest of the state.

The urban areas were to use a very expensive fueling nozzle that picked up all the fuel vapors during pumping and stored them in the underground fuel tank. It was called a vapor recovery system. Fuel delivery trucks also had a complex, expensive dual-hose system that returned the vapors to the truck tank as the underground tank was filled.

All was again right with the world.

The rest of the state eventually was required to implement a fuel recovery system as well, but it remains far less ponderous and expensive than its urban counterpart.

CARB officials and state legislators were wearing Ace bandages on their wrists and elbows for months, from slapping each other on the back.

So, the war on smog is over, right? Not, as they say in Boulder City, Nevada, by a damsite.

As long as there is one molecule of a substance that can be called a pollutant, hovering over any part of the state of California, Sacramento will keep giving CARB tens (at least) of millions of dollars a year to chase it.

Meanwhile, they're ignoring the fact that their precious vapor recovery system doesn't work. It's worse than the old way--putting the bare hose nozzle into an open fuel tank and letting the vapors go where they will. Now, instead of a little vapor escaping into the air, the high-priced, overly-complex nozzles spit out the best part of a pint of liquid gasoline all over the rear of your car, and on the pavement underneath, where it's free to evaporate over the following few minutes. This, of course, is a pint of the four-dollar-a gallon gas that you pay for. They do this, just about invariably, when the stream clicks off as your tank fills. At times, the nozzle actually pops out of your car, falling 'pon the pavement and spilling even more liquid gasoline under the rear of your car.

CARB won't do anything about this, because to them, it's a done job. To them, no more gasoline vapor is escaping into the air. And so it goes.

You can't trust any air you can't see.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

El Pueblo de Los Angeles Promotes Gang Violence With Big Payouts

Antonio Vinaigrette, el Alcalde del Pueblo de Los Angeles, is in the process of taking over all of the city's anti-gang programs. As an ex gangster himself, he obviously knows what he's doing. After all, he's also attempting to take over the entire city children's prison system. An obvious rationale? Put gangsters in front of the classes to teach children how to better conduct the War on Productivity in Los Angeles. Given his background and personal philosophy it, as Science Officer Spock used to say, is logical.

Meanwhile, these efforts are being carried out mostly by the City Council.

There is an expose on LA's local Fox News affiliate KTTV, of the effort of one City Councilwoman, Janice Hahn. Seems she's been paying gangsters big bucks to mitigate gang violence in the city. She's been getting gangsters who are arrested of violent crimes, released from incarceration so they can continue their work. See Chris Blatchford's expose video, as shown on KTTV, here, along with other related stories.

Apparently the money, fairly large sums. is given with no strings attached. One gangster is quoted as saying he didn't know what he was supposed to do, for the money. Another took his homies to the Raging Waters amusement park for the day.

Ms Hahn who, along with her father and brother have inhabited offices in City Hall for decades, gets very defensive when asked for specific answers about her programs. She cuts off interviews she deems hostile, much as does El Alcalde himself.

Arrogant as many of the Los Angeles City Council members are, they still have to stand for election every four years. Angry as LA residents are at the high local taxes and foolish spending, these parasites keep getting reelected.

One must suspect some Chicago-style hanky panky at the polls. And, of course, this is Hollywood, with all the celebrity-driven socialist propaganda being brought to bear at every election.

Like MS Hahn's insane notion that paying gangsters off will make them nice.

Meanwhile, the murder of someone (anyone) is the cost of initiation to many gangs and the murder of a member of another gang is even better. As might be suspected in a part of the country in which victims are disarmed by law, there are many murders in El Pueblo, of both the guilty and the innocent, and these murders apparently occur with the blessing of el alcalde and the rest of the City Council. Only occasionally are they prosecuted and they're almost never prosecuted severely.

A recently, one of Ms Hahn's paid gangsters was murdered by a member of a rival gang. She attended the funeral and hugged the deceased thug's mother. One must wonder if he was killed by a gangster with a gun purchased with Ms Hahn's money.

People should never be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Life In El Pueblo de Los Angeles

Today, I attempted to call the police. No emergency, but as a minor public safety person, I thought I should get this fellow some help before he got himself, or someone else, killed.

Seems this apparently drunken bum was prancing about (on foot) in the lanes of a very busy boulevard. He survived as long as he did mostly because afternoon traffic was beginning to get heavy and cars weren't going as fast as they otherwise would. There was a lot of horn honking and swerving.

He was carrying a cardboard sign 'pon which was written: "Please give me enough money to get enough whiskey to get so drunk I can't do this." I saw no one actually stop to give him anything.

Actually, I was too far away to see what the sign said, so the above is just a guess. Probably a pretty good guess.

I didn't have the phone number for the police, and I didn't think it was an emergency--enough to qualify as a 911 call. I dialed 411 (information) and got a robot. After following the instructions and asking for the Los Angeles police, the robot (tried to) connected me to a disconnected number.

I tried again.

This time I asked for the number, which I dialed myself.

This time, I was connected to another robot, identifying himself as Antonio Vinaigrette, el alcalde del Pueblo de Los Angeles. He thanked me for phoning the City of Los Angeles, and after a campaign ad for his reelection, then advised me that if this was a life-threatening emergency I should dial 911. Then, he repeated the entire message in Spanish! I should have been connected directly to a desk sergeant at a nearby substation but, alas, that would be too simple for this administration.

Just kidding about the campaign ad, but the fact that the voice of el alcalde answered the phone is actually kind of a campaign ad, isn't it?

To add insult to insanity, the next robot voice asked me to Dial One For English.

Well, mes enfants, I NEVER DIAL ONE FOR ENGLISH. Never.

There is no one I want to talk to badly enough to have to ask to speak the language of commerce, the language of technology, the language of America.

Those who don't speak English can dial one. Or uno. Or Ein. Or whatever. I'll dial one if I find myself needing assistance in Mexico--except, in Mexico, they don't ask you to dial one for English. In Mexico, if you don't speak Spanish, good luck. If the phones work.

What do you dial if you're an arab terrorist?

Only in Los Angeles.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Addendum:

I looked in the phone book to find the real phone number for the police, and learned that there isn't one(!). The only non-emergency way to get to the police department is to dial 311, which is a sort of Los Angeles information number.

There's no other way than going through that awful Antonio Vinaigrette sequence, then get asked to DIAL ONE FOR ENGLISH. Looks like the police have found a good way to eat their donuts uninterrupted.

I guess I'll follow the Duke's advice and just fire three shots into the air.

What Happened to California?

I don't know if I can describe the wonder of Southern California to a fairly well traveled 21-year-old 'pon his arrival, in a new Chevy pickup, into which were packed my pregnant wife, my mother and everything we thought worth bringing along from the old home town. We left the snow shovels behind.

Palm trees. Eight-lane freeways--smooth white highways on which one never needed to stop or worry about oncoming or cross traffic, or bumps! Stop laughing! It was 1965.

Gas was 24 cents a gallon. Cigarettes were about a quarter a pack. Our first apartment was $75 a month. It took me less than a week to find a job, then six months to find a really good job in construction (which was what I wanted).

After a few years here, I made the decision that I'd be living and working here for the rest of my life. I maintained that opinion through two years in the San Fernando Valley, three in Orange County and fifteen years in San Diego.

There was a point, and I think it was during the time Jerry Brown was Guber, when things started going bad in California, although it might've been earlier. When Ronald Reagan was Guber, he enacted for the first time, withholding of state income tax money. This opened the door to draconian tax increases, coming very often.

Heavy tax increases and wasteful spending have been the rule in California rather than the exception. It's been happening under both Democrat and Republican administrations, without mercy or appeal. If the state income tax doesn't increase, then the sales tax does. California's tax tab is exceeded by only three or four states, and more increases can be expected.

What do we get for these increases? Roads, streets and highways are in far worse shape than they were in 1965. The state's children's prisons are turning out gangsters and illiterates, and even the better ones turn out graduates who can score well on tests, but have little reasoning ability or critical skills.

Public safety services (police, fire, etc) are underfunded for ridiculous arts projects that not only disfigure the city aesthetically, but make poor excuses for artists wealthy. Police are ordered not to inquire as to the citizenship of arrested individuals who when released, often commit more crimes. Government continues to turn a blind eye to the notion of individual self defense.

Gangs roam the streets, attacking and murdering people (often children) of other ethnic and racial groups, and our moronic Chief of Police has the nerve to try and convince the public that there's no racial component in it. Professional agitators attack police during an otherwise peaceful protest, and police physically attack the peaceful protesters with tear gas and truncheons while the agitators look on with smiles on their faces.

I can only assume, from statewide news reports and word of mouth, that it's as bad or even worse in Frisco and its surrounding suburbs.

San Diego's city government has been flirting with bankruptcy for some time, because of fiscal irresponsibility in its politicians.

I can only hope that the smaller cities near the farm and ranch lands of California are populated with individuals with better sense.

Productive individuals have been leaving the state for years, having gotten a bellyful of what I like to call California's war on productivity. The state's population continues to increase, though, primarily because of the influx of foreigners. These foreigners mean well, and are looking to make a better life means of the more favorable opportunities here, but their skills are limited.

Tax revenues are decreasing as spending is increasing. Tax rates will increase and productive individuals will continue to look for greener pastures. Frivolous spending will assure that Public safety will continue to be given the short shrift.

One wonders how long one should remain here.

They've killed Freedom! Those bastards!

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

"....No Interracial Strife in Los Angeles" -Police Chief William Bratton



And, I'm sure there was never any interracial strife in New York City or Boston while he was police commissioner in those cities, either....NYC is the city in which police needed over 50 shots to hit an unarmed man 16 times and Boston was the city from whose airport the planes that flew into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. I don't think Bratton was police commissioner at either of those towns at the fateful moment, but his simple-minded policies certainly live on, even to this day.

Chief William Bratton, as is true with most fascist police officials, doesn't think individuals should be allowed to defend themselves. He doesn't think individuals should be able to carry guns, knives, or even clubbing type weapons. He stands in opposition to the natural right of every individual as is affirmed by the Bill of Rights--thus is not qualified to hold the office of Chief of Police, or even carry a badge as a traffic officer.

Sorry chief, when I'm out for a walk, I carry a walking stick of which Robin Hood would be envious, a passable knife and a tube of pepper spray. At times, I even carry a sidearm--tucked away somewhere handy.

In the past week, subhuman gang thugs have murdered two young men in Los Angeles. One was a 19-year-old who had been a foopbaw player at his children's prison, and was working as a security guard while going to a tech school. He was simply waiting for a bus. The other was 13-years of age and was found mortally wounded in the driveway in front of his home.

There was a huge press conference attended by el alcalde, MEChA member Antonio Vinaigrette, Chief Bratton and several other City Council members--those who were able to elbow, kick, punch and straightarm their way to the dais to get their mugs on camera. The gist of the blatherings offered to the press were that El Pueblo de Los Angeles is getting tough on gangs and that these crimes will not be tolerated.

Now, for reality: LAPD has been instructed, both by el alcalde and the City Council, to fight the gangs without actually hurting anyone of the minority class. Since most members of LA gangs are minorities--blacks or hispanics--it means that gangs will pretty much be left alone unless actually caught in the act. Then, of course, the police must treat them nicely according to the left's best politically correct rules. They will receive minimal punishments and then receive early releases to make room for nonviolent dope smokers.

Chief Bratton broke up the crowd by trying to stress that there is no racial tension in El Pueblo de Los Angeles. After the guffaws died down, one reporter pressed the Chief about racial tensions. Bratton pulled out his figurative truncheon and figuratively clubbed the hapless reporter to submission. Much as did his officers (for real) during mayday at MacArthur Park.

Only in LA.

Hispanic gangsters hate black gangsters with passion. They shoot each other whenever they see a chance. The hatred transfers as both fear and hatred in the poorer ethnic communities. Residents want the police to stop the violence, but they don't want anyone hurt.

The thing that must be done is to let the residents defend themselves. Just knowing that any man or woman on the street might be armed will severely diminish the violence with no further action. Prosecution must be stiff, just and equal for rich and poor; and among the races. Punishment should be geared toward restitution for the victims. Every criminal released from prison should be viscerally aware he's just had his ass figuratively kicked, and should never want to go through that again.

Chief William Bratton is not among those who wants to see that happen, nor will our hero be Antonio Vinaigrette.

Pictured: LA's most destructive gang.

Slouching toward lawlessness.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

What Is Your Annual Income?.......Send It In.

This is a local story, peculiar to El Pueblo de Los Angeles. Or is it? I'll wager, with no one to cover my money, that in every medium and large city throughout the "free" world, that close variations of what I'm about to write have been heard by every productive, yet struggling individual.

For months now, Antonio Vinaigrette, el alcalde, has been saying that el pueblo needs a yes vote on local Proposition "S" to bring fiscal balance to el pueblo and to assure uninterrupted continuation of vital services--services like police patrols and fire and rescue services.

Proposition "S" claimed to reduce LA's telephone tax from 10% to 9%. What was in the fine print was that the phone tax violates the California Constitution, and that there's a lawsuit in progress to nullify it. By popular ratification of Prop "S", the legal proceedings will end. The 9% tax becomes law, in accordance with the requirements of the California Constitution.

What's wrong with that, one might ask? What no one really says (out loud), is that a No vote might very likely have nullified the tax entirely, once the legal proceedings were complete. Prop "S" was being sold as a tax reduction measure.

Wait. Then, why were the leftists arguing so stridently in favor of a Yes vote? Well, I don't know. There's a real inconsistency there. El alcalde, our imported former New York City Sullivan Law loving Police Chief William Bratton and several other leftist local politicos fairly begged LA voters to ratify what was being touted as a tax reduction. The only individuals I know of that mentioned the full truth, including the legal proceedings about the proposition, were the man posturing himself as el alcalde's major opponent in the upcoming election, and a few local conservative commentators.

There's one more fact that almost no one mentioned about Prop "S": the old phone tax applied to land line phones only. The new, "reduced" phone tax applies to cellular phones, as well. So, hide the skinning knives, fellow Angelinos. Here they come.

Proposition "S" passed.

The very next day after the proposition passed, el alcalde held a news conference in which he thanked the voters for passing Prop "S," and in almost in the same breath, he asserted that the millions to be gained by the passage of the proposition would help, but would not be enough(!) to balance the budget of el pueblo.

He couldn't even wait until our freshly-skinned corpses cooled off!

Now, we have to sit 'pon the edge of our seats, waiting for the next proposal for the next tax increase! I believe an increase in the already confiscatory sales tax has been mentioned.

The "or we'll have to look at reducing some services" threat is already in play, but when they make that threat, they usually refer to the services regarded to be the most vital, never mentioning utter wastes like City Officials' travel expenses, subsidies for the arts that no sane person would actually buy voluntarily, "green" programs that cost more than standard methodology, and sports venues that should be financed by the sports team ownership--among others.

Meanwhile, productive individuals and their businesses are leaving the state for more business-friendly locations and the state's population is increasing due to entries by bottom-rung workers who generally pay little toward the costs of city-provided services, and consume to a larger degree.

Recipe for a Shrugfest.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Leftist Celebrity Hypocrisy

According to a story in TMZ, a car driven by Julia Roberts' hubby Danny Moder was found and photographed parked in front of Malibu's How's market yesterday, in a Handicapped parking space!

Roberts, a member in good standing if Hollywood's Airhead Left, is often seen and heard railing against all things conservative, and in favor of all things socialist and irrational (but, I repeat myself!), anywhere she can find the front end of a camera.

Well, she found a host of paparazzi cameras in front of How's, showing her true stripes: those of a Hollywood elitist hypocrite.

Do as I say, not as I do.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Niggardly, Niggardly, Niggardly

In one of their most courageous moves of the year, the City Council of El Pueblo de Los Angeles passed a symbolic resolution to ban a word which is notorious for the volume of its use in South Central and other parts of El Pueblo heavily populated by Black folks. While the LA Times, to its credit did at least identify the word in question, I'll refrain from using it because, well, it's banned.

The word is so evil that words that sound similar turn heads. The word niggardly got a fellow in deep trouble in Washington DC a couple of years ago, because an illiterate Congressfool didn't know what it meant, and thought it was the word.

The funny part of Friday's Council session was that no one but the City Parasites seemed to care about the foul word.

The ignorant fools really wanted something done about all the gang warfare in their neighborhoods. They wanted an end to the robbing, mugging, shooting, killing and burgling. They wanted an end to the interracial battling between Black and Latin gangs.

The City Parasites quickly explained that, while they're aware of their concerns, the banning of a nasty word is far more important that the occasional crossfire killing or interracial gang war. Get your priorities straight, fer cryin' out loud!


So, I guess the status quo remains. The LAPD will continue to be in the station houses watching mandatory sensitivity lectures, except when they don full paramilitary battle armor to go down to a park and thump some heads.

People shouldn't be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of the people.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

It's Easy to Hold Your Head High If There Ain't Nothin' In It!

Let me play a little game here. As a fairly recent Valley Rat, I'm getting to know the unusual sort of individual that inhabits this unique part of the Stalag. Gag me with a spoon!

No, they're good people, many of whom have never known want or real frustration, beyond the difficult but critical choice of the best gown for the Prom.

The woman of whom I speak is probably a beautiful woman. She's 31-years of age. She put in her time in the government's children's prison system and, I'm sure, earned a degree at (I'll make a wild guess) UCLA. She probably has a pretty lucrative career in a non-technical profession and she's married to a successful professional man, and they have two young sons.

She has never had to be responsible for any difficult personal decisions in her life. She's unable to put together a chain of probabilities to try to make a life-important decision. The connection between actions and their consequences is very tenuous with this person, as such teaching is very poorly carried out both by parents and the government's children's prisons, in recent years.

She never realized the following could happen (to her).

As detailed in Steve Lopez' column in the LA Times, she grew up in the Valley wishing she lived in Beverly Hills. Recently, she spent $3 million to buy a house in 90210.

In April, wildfires "came too close for comfort." In July, she heard about a burglary ring in the area. Last month, a coyote ate her miniature beagle.

Her home is on a hillside just below famed Mulholland Drive, abutting an undeveloped canyon with plenty of brush, grassy and wooded space between the multi-million dollar estates in the area. When asked whether she'd thought of the possibility of coyotes in the area, she said she'd have no problem with the occasional deer, "But we didn't know coyotes lived here."

I live on the flatlands less than a mile from the foot of that very same ridge, and I've seen coyotes, raccoons, possums, squirrels, hawks, and a fox in my yard, and in and near my street, for cryin' out loud. You don't leave your pets outside (unless they're big dogs).

This poor woman's taking a long time to grow up, and still has a ways to go.

To top it all off, and to add insult to injury, while she was complaining to the city of Beverly Hills about their shortcomings in their wild critter control department, she learned that her home isn't actually in Beverly Hills. It has the coveted 90210 zip code, but it's outside the Beverly Hills city limits in an area of El Pueblo de Los Angeles we fondly call Beverly Glen--still a posh and exclusive area but, alas, not Beverly Hills.

Into every life some rain must fall.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

Hot Rod Fever

The preliminaries, called "qualifying," of the NHRA Finals at Pomona, are going on as I write this. I'd rather be there than here, but where's the time, where's the money? Qualifying goes on for three days, and is both exciting and fun. The fourth day, Sunday, is Final Eliminations, in which the race winners in each of four classes are determined. It's all very noisy and very exciting. If you've never heard (and felt) the roar of a 8000+ horsepower engine covering a quarter-mile from a standing start in four-and-one-half seconds, you've missed an extreme assault 'pon your senses.

A story in the LA Times Sports section the other day reminded me of the long history drag racing has in Southern California. It started here, as did many things, in the wake of World War II, with surviving veterans looking for outlets for the excitement to which they'd become accustomed while slogging through the mud and sands of faraway places.

There were the bikers, and there were the hot rodders.

Hot rodders would work on their cars, making them lighter by taking off superfluous parts and faster by installing bigger engines, modifying them and by using different tire/wheel/brake/suspension combinations. Naturally, they'd race against each other to measure the success of their efforts.

At first, the races were on rarely used roads ans streets. After a number of collisions and pileups, when the local police started cracking down, enterprising individuals started setting up dedicated race tracks around the Los Angeles area, for use by area hot rodders for a reasonable fee. For years, these tracks thrived. Between 1950 and the early 1980's, there were as many as eleven drag strips in Southern California.

Now, they're all gone but one, and that's at Pomona. It's not available for today's young hot rodders to use on any weekend.

Some say they all closed because of the rise in land values in Southern California. Others cite high insurance costs, in an era when a signed release of liability by an adult means nothing in a court of law.

Meanwhile, thrill seeking young men (and now, young women) still want to race. With no drag strips available this side of Bakersfield, where do they race? The streets. At night. In the normally quiet suburbs.

Since Southern California has a far denser population than in the late 1940's, quiet roads and streets are increasingly harder to find. There are more racing collisions, some involving the public, and some involving death.

But for an unknown and unknowable government regulations, edicts and unneeded laws, insurance organizations would be willing to write policies for reasonable prices, and in the absence of draconian taxes, land would be more available at lower prices.

I don't know if an absence of government intervention would mean more drag strips or not. A favorite theory of mine is that cars would soon become obsolete in favor of personal aircraft. That process was begun (by some of those same post WWII thrill seekers) and quickly squelched by the evil Civil Aeronautics Board in the 1950's. It will still happen, once government is gotten out of the way. And then, it won't be any time at all before aero hot rodders will be racing 'em.

Feeling the need for speed.

Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California