I’m gonna go out on a snowy limb here and say it was probably a good idea that the Soma Pescadero and I had our maiden voyage yesterday rather than today.
Yesterday it was knickers and arm warmers; today it’s green tea and bloggery.
Cruel it isn’t, though. Not at the northern edge of the Chihuahuan Desert, where we haven’t seen any sort of precip’ in the better part of quite some time.
Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sandy road The road winding above among the mountains Which are mountains of rock without water If there were water we should stop and drink Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand If there were only water amongst the rock Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit There is not even silence in the mountains But dry sterile thunder without rain
Whew! That Eliot feller would’ve made one helluva blogger, amirite? “The poet’s mind,” he once said, “is in fact a receptacle for seizing and storing up numberless feelings, phrases, images, which remain there until all the particles which can unite to form a new compound are present together.”
He also wrote: “Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.”
Good training in case they have to go up against the Houthis anytime soon, I suppose.
But at first glance this “emergency response” to crime hereabouts seems to have a lot of wobble to it.
According to the Albuquerque Journal, the planned deployment follows “a March 31 request from APD Chief Harold Medina for the military to fulfill ‘non-law enforcement duties’ such as providing security at crime-scene perimeters and transporting prisoners, among others.”
But Medina says this thing “has been in the works for months after the NMNG offered help.”
APD is to monitor the “pilot project” with an eye toward measuring its success, says the chief. But the executive order from Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham “left the timeline for the NMNG’s presence open-ended.”
The 60-some-odd Guardspersons are to provide security at the courthouse, airport and other facilities, and medical support for the unhoused along East Central. Medina said this “would free up 20 to 30 officers for law enforcement and crime-fighting.” I’m not sure Skippy the Dipshit and his DOGEbags would call this efficient, but hey, what do I know? Onliest thing I run is this keyboard here.
Oddly, in making their case for bringing the Guard to town, Medina and Duck! City Mayor Tim Keller cited quarter-year stats indicating “large decreases in crime, compared with 2024.”
The mayor explained thusly: “What we want to do is double down on what’s working … and what’s working is technology and civilians … freeing up officers to fight crime and keep those statistics going in this powerfully good direction.”
P.S., he added: The city isn’t picking up the tab.
Neither Medina nor Keller offered any idea of how long the Guardspersons would be needed. Medina hopes to have a bunch of new cops on board — about 150 of them — before the bugler sounds “Retreat.”
The GOP said what the GOP usually says, which explains why it has as much influence on state politics as some poor sod living in a Glad bag at Wyoming and Central.
Likewise, the ACLU views with its usual alarm. Daniel Williams, policy advocate at the American Civil Liberties Union of New Mexico, said in a press release that the assistance was “a show of force, not a show of solutions.”
“History has shown that military collaboration with local law enforcement often leads to increased civil rights violations, racial profiling, and criminalization of vulnerable populations, particularly those experiencing homelessness and poverty,” he said.
The troops are to be unarmed and clad not in uniforms but rather in polo shirts (we can only hope that pants will be included). I do get that breezy feeling from the rear that our pants are being pulled down here, but you know what they say about paranoia.
The ghost bike installed by the Duke City Wheelmen in remembrance of Scott Dwight Habermehl.
“Just bump him, bruh.”
Sounds better than “Gonna hit him hella fast,” doesn’t it?
But the difference was no difference at all to cyclist Scott Dwight Habermehl, who last May was sent flying over the passenger side of a vehicle with three giggling kids in it — ages 15, 13, and 11 — and left fatally injured on the side of the road.
He was 63. Father of two. A Sandia National Labs engineer who was just cycling to work, as he had done for years.
Two of the three kids said to have been in the vehicle that hit him have been arrested, charged with an open count of murder, conspiracy to commit murder, leaving the scene of an accident involving great bodily harm or death, and unlawful possession of a handgun, according to the Albuquerque Journal. The eldest remains at large.
We’ve all been in this neighborhood. I’ve been right-hooked into a parked car; tumbled over the hood of an SUV whose driver passed me only to start executing a leisurely U-turn; narrowly escaped a homicidal trucker on a wide highway shoulder; had a full bottle of beer thrown at me from a speeding vehicle; been threatened with a gun.
The joke among longtime cyclists with a dark streak of humor is that if you want to murder someone without suffering any consequences, wait until your target gets on a bicycle and then hit him with your car.
But it doesn’t seem all that funny when you consider that two of these three suspects were charged — within days of the crash that killed Habermehl — in connection with what the Journal called “a weekslong crime spree that included a smash-and-grab burglary, shootings and auto theft.”
And yet nothing came of it.
The case against the 13-year-old was dismissed in August 2024 “when prosecutors failed to meet court requirements,” the Journal added. It’s not clear what happened to the charges against the 11-year-old.
Maybe prosecutors will “meet court requirements” in this instance, since (a) Albuquerque Mayor Tim Keller and Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham have weighed in, and (2) we’re not talking about property crime now — this time, a man was sentenced to death by three children for the crime of riding his bicycle to work.
• Video:The Albuquerque Police Department provided this clip from a video said to have been uploaded to the Internets by those involved. APD says this triggered an anonymous tip, a homicide investigation, and what we can only hope will be justice for Scott Dwight Habermehl. Thank Dog for the stupidity of many of our 21st-century criminals. Back in the Day® we knew better than to rat ourselves out.
Wonder Wart-Hog, president of the United States? Hey, we’ve had worse.
Gilbert Shelton saw this coming.
You may remember him as the creator of “The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers,” if you ever knew his work at all (he wasn’t in the Sunday funnies section of the Muthalode Morning Mishap when you were a sprout).
I first saw Shelton’s stuff in Texas, back in the Sixties, when as an aspiring young motorhead I stumbled across his “Wonder Wart-Hog” strip in Pete Millar’s Drag Cartoons.
Even then I was a comics/superhero fiend, and dug satires of the genre, like “Captain Klutz,” which Don Martin created for Mad magazine. So naturally I loved the Hog of Steel and his alter ego, deuce reporter Philbert Desanex (a “deuce reporter” sitting at the opposite end of the pay scale from an “ace”).
Shelton wasn’t just another funny fella. He was also a student of American history and politics, and often aimed his pen at same in his work (see “Give Me Liberty: A Revised History of the American Revolution,” from 1976).
But man, he really hit his stride with “Wonder Wart-Hog and the Nurds of November.” A cartoon collection bearing that title was published in 1980, and the titular strip included the following:
A stony-broke, hungry, unemployed journalist (Desanex).
A Supreme Court that ruled the First Amendment was “a typographical error.”
Assassinations and a discussion of the presidential line of succession (through the secretary of the Treasury, anyway).
The country, having run through 13 presidents on one day, being managed as a trust by the board of directors of Gloptron, Inc., “an immense multinational cartel.”
A presidential primary contest, in which Desanex secures the nominations of both the Democratic and Republican parties (OK, so that may seem a little far-fetched).
Gloptron’s attempt to assassinate Desanex (foiled by the Hog of Steel).
Gloptron’s queering of the weather on Election Day, hoping to keep all the voters home. It didn’t work: Desanex wins the popular vote.
Gloptron’s zombies overturn the popular vote via the Electoral College and the coup is buried on page 67 of the next day’s newspaper (“Well, after all, it is Gloptron’s newspaper, Mr. Desanex,” explains an aide.
Desanex takes his case back to the people, calling for a constitutional convention on New Year’s Eve to rewrite that hallowed document and dispose of the Electoral College.
With predictable results, it being New Year’s Eve:
By the way, the splash panel is a fakeout. In the cartoon, the pig doesn’t win the presidency. Adolf Hitler does — seems he didn’t die in that bunker after all, having taken it on the lam after first getting his skull and teeth surgically removed to mislead his enemies.
And, after an extended rant against — well, pretty much everything and everyone, promising the convention “a strong, decisive leader who can bring back law and order and restore the nation’s dignity in the eyes of the world … purge the population of misfits, get our armed forces into shape and declare war on everybody who won’t toe the line!” — the new dictator of the USA orders an invasion of Mexico “on the pretext that the Mexicans had been secretly invading the United States for years.”
Any of this sounding familiar to you?
• Editor’s note: The headline comes from (of course) Hunter S. Thompson, who in “The Great Shark Hunt” rewrote that old saw, “You can’t wallow with the pigs at night and then soar with the eagles in the morning,” which came up in a half-remembered conversation at a Colorado bar in which a construction worker told a bartender why he shouldn’t have another drink.
Wrote HST:
No, I thought, that geek in Colorado had it all wrong. The real problem is how to wallow with the eagles at night and then soar with the pigs in the morning.
And you thought the moon was made of green cheese. Sorry, losers and haters!
Blame the Wolf Moon. A vacationing wife. An acid flashback. Whatever.
But when I blinked myself awake in the dark on Tuesday morning I had no idea where I was.
If dementia runs in your family, as it does in mine, this can freak you right the hell out. But I found it oddly exhilarating.
“Where am I? Who knows? Who cares? This is great!”
And then I remembered.
“Aw, shit. Trumpsylvania.”
We’re just a few all-too-short days away from the sequel to a movie I never wanted to see in the first place. “Mr. Hyde Goes to Washington” should’ve been a one-off. But nooooooo. Everything has to be a franchise now. When the Joker started getting top billing we should’ve known what was coming. It’s just one evil clown after another.
But hey: It’s an excuse for another episode of Radio Free Dogpatch, in which I make it all about me. I tell ya, it’s evil clowns all the way down.
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