By LP Hastings
By Michael Goldstein
By R. Scott Moxley
By Gustavo Arellano
By Gustavo Arellano
By Matt Coker
By Nick Schou
By Bethania Palma Markus
Wednesday, Nov. 22
The Orange County Register's Gordon Dillow writes a column about Huntington Beach police officer Shawn Randall, one of two cops who resuscitated five-year-old Alexia Limon after she'd stopped breathing while playing in a bouncer. Randall is also one of the police officers being investigated for his part in the shooting death of 18-year-old Ashley MacDonald. Dillow writes, "In short, the same cop who's being damned by some as a cold-blooded killer is being credited by others as a life-saver." Yeah, because those are the only two options. He then sums up that the "fortunate saving of little Alexia's life has nothing to do, pro or con, with the tragic taking of Ashley MacDonald's. And yet it's interesting and unusual, and therefore newsworthy, that in the space of just a few months one cop finds himself involved in both extremes of his profession." Why is it that people such as Gordon Dillow feel the need to constantly bash the police? In Dillow's world, police work is an impossible venture and we should be grateful that they only occasionally go berserk. Which is why any time something horrible does occur, folks like Dillow are there to mention how grateful they are that these cretins don't lose it more often and do something really crazy—say, empty 50 bullets into a car of unarmed men. And that we should also thank our lucky stars these same hair-triggered defectives retain a sliver of human feeling so that when they look down at the lifeless body of a five-year-old girl their first inclination is to help her and not to cite her for vagrancy. Me? I like cops. I think the great majority of them are more than up to the task of the most demanding job there is. Which is why I'm outraged when one of them falls short of the high standard set by most. But, like I say, I like cops.
Thursday, Nov. 23
On this, the holiest day on the poultry calendar, 16 people—five adults and 11 juveniles—are arrested for breaking into the Black Gold Golf Course in Yorba Linda and ransacking the place. Police say the bunch caused more than $250,000 of damage, including smashing up a garage, violating putting greens (don't ask) and overturning carts as well as dumping one of the carts into a lake. The five adults are identified as Michael Rodriguez of La Mirada, Jesse James of Walnut, Chaz Diesel of La Mirada, Ryan Calhoun of La Mirada and Mario Toscano of La Mirada. Police are still trying to determine a motive for the crime, though they are presently working under the assumption that people in La Mirada really don't like golf. They are also investigating whether the Yorba Linda crime is related to similar incidents in Huntington Beach and Fullerton, yet one thing seems certain: Chaz Diesel is the coolest name ever. The only way you could have a more kickass name than Chaz Diesel is if your name was Joe Kickass. (Or Jim Kickass. Pretty much any name ending with Kickass . . . except Chauncey . . . though Chauncey Kickass figures to be a bit of rough trade in the cloakroom at St. Albans.) And how cool is it that Chaz Diesel hangs out with Jesse James? What did these guys do, buy an institutional-sized box of bitchen at Costco? Now, admittedly, allegedly tearing up a golf course is far below a Chaz Diesel. A Chaz Diesel should allegedly be messing with an uptight college dean of discipline in his allegedly cherry-red muscle car, allegedly breaking all the rules while allegedly winning the big ski race. Oh yeah, that's how a Chaz Diesel rolls. Allegedly.
Friday, Nov. 24
Saw MacHomer at the Irvine Barclay Theatre. It was an amazing show, with writre/performre Rick Miller going nonstop for an hour and 15 minutes in a scaled down, amped up version of Macbeth while employing the voices of more than 30 characters from The Simpsons. An impressive performance, though only the second-best performance I witnessed that night in that theatre. That distinction belonged to the young man in front of me who attempted to impress his date by telling her he and his "team" were up for a Nobel Prize for video game graphics. He said this to the woman and she did not reply with, "Uh, did I mention I didn't attend public school?" but gazed back and uttered, "Oh, cool." Yes, it is cool. Really cool. I don't know if you know this, but Wednesday marked the 147th anniversary of the publication of Darwin's The Origin of Species, the book that put forward the idea that an organism's ability to survive depends on its ability to adapt. And here we have Man whose instinct to get laid, to propagate the species but mostly to get laid, is so strong that he manages to overcome the fact that his name is not Chaz Diesel and not only come up with the most bald-faced lie this side of Baghdad being one big flower show, but also manages to find the one woman who would buy the line. That's adaptation, Homes. It's just like another Nobel laureate, William Faulkner, said: "I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail." And when he does, he's gonna get some.
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