Several of our communicants have identified an eerie similarity between former public access TV star Garth Algar, and your newly minted po po chief, David Hendricks. At the risk of damaging our reputation as a legitimate news and opinion outlet, I have decided to let you Fullerton humans opine.
Dear Fullerton humans: 228 Years ago, an angry Parisian mob stormed The Bastille – traditional home for political prisoners and symbol of the hated Ancien Regime. It was empty, but that’s beside the point.
Our Bastille is not empty. And while I admonish a more reasoned revolution that doesn’t end in a Reign of Terror, a dictatorship, and an emperor, I do believe it is appropriate to recognize that our own ancient regime in Fullerton continues to look a lot like the decrepit and dysfunctional Bourbon dynasty en France.
Earthly human Friends, you may or may not care care for the proposed motto in the title. If not, feel free to share your own in the comments thread.
All I know is that the line of criminal defendants is getting even longer and the list of uncharged miscreants longer still.
Of course to the Old Guard, like my former mistress, everything is just copacetic in Fullerton and the real problem is not a busted budget, lying councilwomen, cratered streets, broken water mains, occasional landslides, a hit-and-run city manager or even a conga line of bad cops.
No. The problem is a lazy, ignorant and cheap citizenry that expects honest cops, decent roads a competent $200,000 city manager and a truly balanced budget.
When I was on Earth used to complain about the conditions at Casa Flory and then BAM, out came the broomstick. Well Fullerton humans, I can already see the backswing…
And so the Awards Committee sat in deliberation. And by deliberation I mean ingestion of substantial amounts of peyote, cough syrup and Mountain Dew – the elixir of Award Committees everywhere. They toiled away far into the evening hours to entertain and enlighten you. Here is what they belched up.
Best Most Outrageous Cover Up. Even though there were only two nominees in the category, the Committee spent hours debating the merits of each. There was much disturbance, confusion and argumentation, and the Committee finally came to blows. In the end there was a split decision, the majority believing that even though the cover-up of Joe Felz’s Chaotic Wild Ridecertainly constitutes an abuse of power and privilege, the NOCCCD cover up of Dino Skokos’ felonious and unprovoked assaulton a student not only represented the usual arrogance of bureaucratic stonewalling, it was actually performed in the full light of the existing video that had been viewed by thousands and thousand of people.
And finally, The Ghost of Fullerton Past. All of the nominees were eminently qualified to take the brass ring. And by brass ring I mean recognition of past horrors inflicted upon the residents of Fullerton, and new contributions, too. In the end the Committee chose the inevitable: The Three Bald Tires, collectively recalled four years ago, who believe, somehow, that they are still wielders of influence. They are not. The worst aspect was them bringing along their spouses to share in one final electoral humiliation – pimping Lost Cause Larry Bennett’s political career.
The thing about human elections in a democracy is that you get the winners you deserve. You also get the candidates you deserve since once you winnow out the crackpots and the perennial also-rans you are left with a class of political grifters who see an opportunity based on past victories for their ilk.
Since our revivification came the day after the 2016 election, the nominating committee used our post-election coverage to determine the potential winners in this special category of loserdom. The committee therefore did not address some of Fullerton’s more colorful electoral flame-outs, with their confusing, crackpot, or just embarrassing displays.
Larry T. Bennett. Ol’ Larry had everything going for him if this had been 1984. Well it isn’t 1984, and all those endorsements from brain-dead repuglicans and brain-dead boohoos didn’t help. Not even a leg up by the FPOA and hard pimping by our lobbyist-mayor could get this inert sack of lethargy over the obstacle course wall.
Ling Ling Chang. This empty suit was the hand-chosen candidate of the old Redevelopment mob to be our State Senator. It was believed that her Asian-ness would counteract the Asian-ness of Sukhee Kang. Well, things didn’t work out quite the way the playahs anticipated. A lot of voters saw through her phoniness, including a history of lying about herself to get elected.
Young Kim. Ms. Kim managed to mismanage her way out of the job as our Assemblywoman despite what turned out to be a pretty decent Republican turnout. True, she was hammered by a relentless barrage of attack mail from the state Democrats, but her own effort was feeble, disjointed and smacked of desperation a mile off.
Sukhee Kang. Ah! The Irvine carpetbagger completely misjudged the electorate in the 29th State Senate District and he misjudged his own lack of appeal and ability, including the ability to run and hide from Larry Agran and his own disastrous record in the City of Irvine. Sukhee was so weak he couldn’t salvage his own campaign with a massive infusion of Sukhee Kash. He couldn’t get past the primary. The whole Sukhee Scampaign was a horrendous and embarrassing train wreck.
Nicole Bernard. This exorbitantly remunerated assistant to now departed Wild Rider Joe Felz came to prominence – really as an aside – for a footling junket to Las Vegas where she displayed an inordinate love of Starbucks corporate fare. Later she was the subject of an inside City Hall poison pen letter we received that contained all sorts of allegations and innuendo. We weren’t necessarily buying it, but we sure were left wondering what this individual actually accomplishes to pull in her titanic salary.
Gregory Palmer, Esq. This fine gentleman, who is employed by our City Attorney, Jones & Meyer, emerged in November directing an honest citizen making a legitimate public records request to go fuck himself. Then we learned from his biography that he is especially proud of his work dealing with “adult businesses,” which strikes me as pretty kinky. But I’m just a dog and leave it to you humans to contemplate Mr. Palmer’s preoccupations.
Sappy McTree. Poor Sappy McTree led a short, undistinguished life on a Glenwood Avenue parkway. While some plant life is born to be great, others have greatness thrust upon them. Consider the sextillion possibilities in the early morning of November 9th, 2016, and the odds of the unfortunate Sappy jumping out in front of our former City Manager’s careening vehicle diminish into vapor. And yet there he is, undone by a heartless universe that laughs at our feeble calculation of likelihoods.
Yet before Sappy was sent to the chipper, he graced our pages, even in his state of extreme distress.
Ling Ling Chang. This superficial creature, candidate for the State Senate and remarkable only for previous prevarications about her life story, was foisted upon us by a repuglican machine which cynically miscalculated that only an Asian candidate could beat another Asian candidate. They both lost to the same non-Asian, but not before wasting almost seven million bucks.
And now I present to you humans the nominations in the supremely important category of The Ghost of Fullerton Past. Why is this important? As an expert on the subject of ghosts myself, I can tell you that Fullerton never seems to be rid of hauntings by former inhabitant of the worst ilk. My former mistress was nominated in 2009 and finally took the home the prize in 2012, before she managed to re-materialize in something approximating corporal human form. Usually the nominees are culled from the large stock of horrific departed repuglicans such as Linda LeQuire who revisit you near every election time to promote this or that non-entity propped up on the campaign dais by Ed Royce.
This year was no different: the nexus was largely the misbegotten campaign of Larry T. Bennett, and how the grisly Ghosts of Fullerton Past manifested themselves to support the insupportable. The first five entries distinguished themselves by clambering up onto the rickety Bennettmobile.
Buck Catlin. Buck Catlin is also a former nominee in this category. His claim to fame was getting recalled in 1994 by voting to impose a completely unnecessary utility tax upon the populous.
The Three Bald Tires. Yes, you know them also as the Three Tree Stumps, the Three Dead Batteries, etc. Mssrs. Jones, Bankhead and McKinley were recalled in 2012 for their deplorable behavior in the aftermath of the Kelly Thomas killing, and their die-hard love of the illegal water tax. They re-emerged on the political scene this fall, thinking their estimable reputation would help Bennett. More than likely it hurt, and hurt badly; but no sympathy for Ol’ Schlep Larry – he obviously solicited their endorsements. Pathetically, each of these burned out bulbs brought along his spouse to the party to join in yet another electoral humiliation.
Hardhat Man. everybody is familiar with the politician who makes himself ridiculous by wearing an inappropriate hat. The result is always cringe-worthy. Here is your esteemed city council person Doug “Bud” Chaffee making like a construction worker. The little lapel flag is precious. We are in the presence of a patriot.
Medusa Flory. Sweet effervescent, glow-in-the-dark Jebus! This horrifying rendition of my former mistress makes me want to barf up my kibble. Such things should not be inflicted upon the living…or the dead. Grrrrr.
Sappy McTree. Poor Sappy McTree. Never hurt a fly. And I never even got a chance to pee on him. Ah! Only the good die young.
Happy Joe. This image was used so often by FFFF that I almost got tired of it, but never did. Joe is gone now, but his happiness lingers on – especially in downtown Fullerton.