tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34119051388261298872024-03-15T13:31:10.665-07:00The Legal LensThe core purpose of the Legal Lens is to expose corruption by reporting the truth. The Legal Lens strives to present ethical and high quality journalism and information for you. At times, the Legal Lens will also have food and travel commentary, which hopefully brings my experiences to you.Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.comBlogger690125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-14414543465516492702024-03-15T12:31:00.000-07:002024-03-15T13:30:13.465-07:00Police Chief of South Gate, Darren Arakawa, Makes $460,000 a Year, While Arakawa Turns Blind Eye to Underground Colombian Theft Ring.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNVH0__xOXnYrPt4etOJyuBTCsyLfakKAsYvsbBxB8BCrbZSHTZo-94BuOwdOwuX5FbKP7bxa-8MO_68N4tW6tV2BMCgFbb8bHdhFYbXUxZlEGtBStGXfwYbpyHC0OfX4OumMmqNmy-h_u6Xd-W4ggWjQtqXuOaL_IE15AoG9QwGQIjaajjjvqj1QFHcG/s960/Chief%20Darren%20Arakawa.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="942" data-original-width="960" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNVH0__xOXnYrPt4etOJyuBTCsyLfakKAsYvsbBxB8BCrbZSHTZo-94BuOwdOwuX5FbKP7bxa-8MO_68N4tW6tV2BMCgFbb8bHdhFYbXUxZlEGtBStGXfwYbpyHC0OfX4OumMmqNmy-h_u6Xd-W4ggWjQtqXuOaL_IE15AoG9QwGQIjaajjjvqj1QFHcG/s320/Chief%20Darren%20Arakawa.jpg" width="320" /></a>In 2022, Police Chief of South Gate, Darren Arakwa, made <a href="https://transparentcalifornia.com/salaries/2022/south-gate/darren-arakawa/">$458,016.47</a>, according to Transparent California. The <a href="https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/southgatecitycalifornia/PST045223">U.S. Census</a> states that South Gate has approximately 90,926 residents. The average income per capita in South Gate is $22,927. </p><p></p><p>Therefore, the police chief makes 20 times more than the average resident of South Gate. Furthermore, South Gate has only around 50 police employees.</p><p>In contrast, in 2022, according to the same website, Chief Michel Moore of the City of Los Angeles made $389,398.80. Moore managed around <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwj99q2e_vaEAxUGIEQIHSYpBVYQFnoECBEQAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nbcnews.com%2Fnews%2Fus-news%2Flapd-shrinks-9000-officers-fewest-cops-generation-rcna98672&usg=AOvVaw3bGIj5B2MGCUfEHpTwqRxj&opi=89978449">9,000 staff</a>. The City of Los Angeles has 3.85 million residents. The average income of an Angelino is $30,225. Hence, Moore makes 12.9 times the amount an average resident of LA makes.</p><p>Also, in contrast, Governor Gavin Newsom of California made $290,119.64 in 2022. </p><p>Arakawa's salary became an issue, when his rookie officer, Jose Gonzalez, who makes almost $100,000 a year refused to arrest a <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2024/03/colombian-cell-phone-and-purse.html">Colombian theft ring for having stolen property</a>. One of the members of that theft ring punched the victim who nabbed the thief, and still Arakwa's officer, being poorly trained, refused to do anything. Gonzales also failed to respect <i>Miranda</i> rights.</p><p>When Elder Arambula, a victim of Arakwa's incompetence found out about Arakawa's salary, he stated, "This kind of corruption keeps the people of South Los Angeles trapped in a cycle of poverty. This is where all our money is going."</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6Nb-tpSmiaLHbYDhjHTxo7koaFzt3Ij9v5jwrrytGZCcipLg3b1RKrPOeSvUz04AF011SX8rLIwZobpp2lEs33E2nnuxzKZG0toRnrE1R0P8shhkGHX-JQJEvXipALUFKlP1LemV08_MpUgqfYatsBAIp_rofY2ttM9zkCEY_g82oM-9iR_cCl4Seveb/s1122/Screen%20Shot%202024-03-15%20at%201.01.59%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="1122" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6Nb-tpSmiaLHbYDhjHTxo7koaFzt3Ij9v5jwrrytGZCcipLg3b1RKrPOeSvUz04AF011SX8rLIwZobpp2lEs33E2nnuxzKZG0toRnrE1R0P8shhkGHX-JQJEvXipALUFKlP1LemV08_MpUgqfYatsBAIp_rofY2ttM9zkCEY_g82oM-9iR_cCl4Seveb/w640-h274/Screen%20Shot%202024-03-15%20at%201.01.59%20PM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-92139527739412097202024-03-08T13:16:00.000-08:002024-03-11T13:31:19.519-07:00Colombian Cell Phone and Purse Snatchers Targeting Hollywood, Nabbed by Victim; LAPD and South Gate Police Said Not to Bother Them.<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn4hH5A1PoUMgz553oz6KMjRlx1hYRv4-dnKw3abxuSLA8Kf47unVER3mLJC5EKNMhw3oTdNRbuCqwV3JAUWgnQCEh9dML96UORGK-zIff8LaSMKYH8itW0EM09-lJUHnPdvQWjE2Eo_fwOytCX1qHVSyRA5MQzWh_yDCHHMZuP9N0GW_iwcQ60QZZQy5v/s1472/CB655BFF-A683-402D-A99F-0EB880ADA7BA.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1472" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn4hH5A1PoUMgz553oz6KMjRlx1hYRv4-dnKw3abxuSLA8Kf47unVER3mLJC5EKNMhw3oTdNRbuCqwV3JAUWgnQCEh9dML96UORGK-zIff8LaSMKYH8itW0EM09-lJUHnPdvQWjE2Eo_fwOytCX1qHVSyRA5MQzWh_yDCHHMZuP9N0GW_iwcQ60QZZQy5v/w180-h320/CB655BFF-A683-402D-A99F-0EB880ADA7BA.JPG" title="Colombian Cell Phone and Purse Snatchers" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colombian Cell Phone and Purse Snatchers.<br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>On February 29, 2024 - Elder Arambula, 22, professional Spaniard-Mexican boxer, entrepreneur, boxing and fitness coach, and temporary worker for the Los Angeles County Election, was standing outside Hollywood's Avalon Theater, to support his friend and boxer, Ryan Garcia at Garcia's press conference against Devin Heney. Before the conference, Arambula saw two suspicious Hispanic guys walking back and forth, spying on onlookers. Arambula witnessed a chubby darker skinned guy ("Chubby") hand Avalon's security guard a $100 bill.When Arambula began talking to Garcia and Garcia's brother, Chubby bumped into Arambula with his arm and shoulder. The next thing Arambula knew, his cell phone was missing. </p><p></p><p>Arambula was with his friend, Marilyn Anguiano. The thinner, fairer skinned guy ("Skinny") attempted to pull Anguiano's purse. When he failed to take it, Skinny just said, "Sorry."<br /></p><p>On March 2, 2024 - Arambula was able to get a location of his cell phone. Arambula asked me, if I would help him. I said, "Yes, but let me change the water on my South American Amazonian aquarium." (My wild Peruvian discus fish needed clean water.)<br /></p><p>The location pinpointed to 2651 Pine Place in South Gate, a three-story apartment. After spending an hour, I was able to locate the phone in one of three units: 102, 202, or 302. The apartment states to be registered to Julio Carrillo. A public record's search says he is 72 years old, goes by the names of Julio Hernandez and Hernan Carrillo and is also registered at 4324 Florence Ave Apt 219, Bell, CA 90201. A relative of his, Miguel Hernandez, also resides at the same address, unit 309.<br /></p><div class="inline-grid ember-view" id="ember135">
</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrG7fteuAC5b1Nssfnhy_c8kwE-cTso-YVJL7E6COeisES9JUyRfS3wpM-ySPd57qORHcdaV5fvD6NdxdtAiIL3ddZZYC_vwqhd7HMiVvsSlcTHY0SigM6BaaWUPXJwKOdfGmc_HGb6YKwuZX3hI6smIdnmc_lGiYJuXAURNf2KlNZnu0AuTg6y6vU5Y_x/s1792/IMG_0009.PNG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrG7fteuAC5b1Nssfnhy_c8kwE-cTso-YVJL7E6COeisES9JUyRfS3wpM-ySPd57qORHcdaV5fvD6NdxdtAiIL3ddZZYC_vwqhd7HMiVvsSlcTHY0SigM6BaaWUPXJwKOdfGmc_HGb6YKwuZX3hI6smIdnmc_lGiYJuXAURNf2KlNZnu0AuTg6y6vU5Y_x/s320/IMG_0009.PNG" width="148" /></a></div>Arambula knocked on 102. A middle aged Hispanic mother came out. Spoke Spanish. Denied having the phone. I studied her body language. I believed her.<p></p><p>Then, Arambula knocked on 202. Chubby came out. Bingo. We walked inside. We asked for the cell phone. Chubby didn't say anything.</p><p>Then all of a sudden Skinny, who was sleeping, threw off his bed sheets. I was startled. Skinny jumped out of bed and popped out of nowhere. </p><p>Elder shouted, "Paul, that's him! He was at the press conference! He tried to steal Marilyn's purse!" Anguiano confirmed that the Skinny in the picture was the one who tried to steal her purse.<br /></p><p>I looked around the room and saw around 7 stolen cell phones and a few stolen purses. One was a black Dolce Gabbana purse. </p><p>I asked politely for Skinny to give back the phone. Skinny was clearly high on drugs. His speech was slurred. He spoke with a Venezuelan accent.<br /></p><p>Chubby asked us to show the location. Elder showed him on his phone. Chubby refused to give back the phone.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xfOOP9Jk3xCTuk5ME7GPDUxWhrVvjcMX6uYOMRj-oCZ47H-AMb-oNdn9ONdozqHrS3lU1o86eSIqL8zzZc5MB-E7Nnd9k0lNNYTc_eiMN3Ev4vZ6FiXGp3OEFbvRnP1mfa2bG03ekAT7dRo79svFnK5tLdpMgzKhjc9bFfFfMmx-4SYxrfYyQOfZZpKZ/s1472/43A2D499-70A2-4B02-A343-16D8E9653F0F(1).JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1472" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xfOOP9Jk3xCTuk5ME7GPDUxWhrVvjcMX6uYOMRj-oCZ47H-AMb-oNdn9ONdozqHrS3lU1o86eSIqL8zzZc5MB-E7Nnd9k0lNNYTc_eiMN3Ev4vZ6FiXGp3OEFbvRnP1mfa2bG03ekAT7dRo79svFnK5tLdpMgzKhjc9bFfFfMmx-4SYxrfYyQOfZZpKZ/s320/43A2D499-70A2-4B02-A343-16D8E9653F0F(1).JPG" width="180" /></a></div>I told them we'd have to call the police, if they didn't return the phone. Skinny started screaming and pushing Arambula out of the apartment. Skinny then punched Arambula. Arambula decided not to punch back. Skinny then grabbed me and pushed me out too.<p></p><p>We called the South Gate Police. Two officers came. Both named Gonzalez. One was J. Gonzales. He was a young officer, who asked me to explain the situation. </p><p>After doing so, J. Gonzalez said, "Well, you really shouldn't be here looking for the cell phone. And since you didn't file a police report, there's nothing we could do."</p><p>He started interviewing Arambula, and I said, "I want to be present. I'm Arambula's attorney."</p><p>J. Gonzalez said, "It doesn't matter. You can't be present while I interview Arambula. You better back away." This would be illegal under the decision <i>Miranda v. Arizona</i> (1965) <span><span>384 U.S. 436.</span></span></p><p>Then J. Gonzales said, "Your cell phone is not here."</p><p>Arambula, upset, points to the his other phone and says, "Do you not see, it says the location is here? And I saw the suspects at the place where my cell phone was stolen."</p><p>J. Gonzales said, "Since you didn't file a police report, we're not going to do anything."</p><p>I said, "You're seriously not going to do anything, when there's a number of stolen cell phones and purses in that unit?"</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPp5RnquGjinXlZgmXLUSJEQ-ONwF7j16Aa9dLQ9Kzio3vHF0HyHX0H_JaBWGFcEn2mJo-XESTS57-dHWMnM2M5CVRQvSbZA4YNK9cUy2ud4JGzrNpjXGoofSF0RT5ZvMzI6xC1w4RyFMC_vqBPzo5JPFpy1fKcQRtsxr5UvlbR8FBBO2pR4sOuoLIXI6/s1920/IMG_9881.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPp5RnquGjinXlZgmXLUSJEQ-ONwF7j16Aa9dLQ9Kzio3vHF0HyHX0H_JaBWGFcEn2mJo-XESTS57-dHWMnM2M5CVRQvSbZA4YNK9cUy2ud4JGzrNpjXGoofSF0RT5ZvMzI6xC1w4RyFMC_vqBPzo5JPFpy1fKcQRtsxr5UvlbR8FBBO2pR4sOuoLIXI6/s320/IMG_9881.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>Gonzalez's partner said they'd interview the suspects. They came down and the partner explained that they denied having the cell phone but did invite them to look for it.<p></p><p>I said, "So, why didn't you search the place?"</p><p>J. Gonzales, at the same time, lied to Arambula saying, "We searched the place and found nothing.'</p><p>After I heard this, I said, "Your partner just told me you didn't search the place. Go search it."</p><p>J. Gonzales said, "We don't have a warrant."</p><p>Annoyed and frustrated, I said, "You don't need a warrant. They consented to a search."</p><p>The partner and him then agreed to search the place. They came back down. They said they found nothing. They gave us a police report number to make Arambula feel better. </p><p>The partner and J. Gonzales said, "Well, we really don't want to do a thorough search, because our lives could be in danger." </p><p>I shook my head, rolled my eyes, took a deep breath, and thanked them.</p><p>A small crowd of residents gathered in the lobby of the apartment. An El Salvadorean woman name Maria said, "I know who they are. They're illegal Colombians. They're thieves. They arrested one not too long ago. We need them gone." <a href="https://www.foxla.com/news/video-shows-alleged-theft-ring-operating-in-west-hollywood">Organized crime rings have been stealing cell phones, wallets and purses in West Hollywood.</a> <a href="https://www.wbrz.com/news/more-than-150-stolen-phones-at-new-orleans-mardi-gras-parades-tied-to-colombian-theft-ring/">Colombian theft rings are responsible for hundreds of stolen cell phones</a>.<br /></p><p>On March 11, 2024 - I emailed Avalon Theater, South Gate Police Chief and the Hollywood Division Captain. Captain Craig Heredia stated that nothing could be done, because a police report wasn't filed. I quickly responded and forwarded him the police report: Report # 240302900356. No response given. Nothing was done.</p><p>Chief Arakawa of South Gate replied, "It will be looked into." To date, nothing's been done.</p><p>Barney Holm, the General Manager of Avalon wrote, "Unfortunately
there is not much that we can do in terms of an investigation or
prosecution as a Venue." </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBr7EHxz8YPhyphenhyphenasuy69lQ5ZdOyxaV6ArPvA60QoLxrf9Fw3NVNiVzEQrbvgORxYCBNstk-bdU05nD5dVPfSTa3R5g_4fb3TJ8HRHZswZYFnzzc_RFzCNnISACxjaS1rWUg4oVijyZUjaDuJJeuaIA-4wQE6LGvovrjXqp8EYfCMmbLlF9cb2AQYVQYo-bY/s4032/IMG_0105.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBr7EHxz8YPhyphenhyphenasuy69lQ5ZdOyxaV6ArPvA60QoLxrf9Fw3NVNiVzEQrbvgORxYCBNstk-bdU05nD5dVPfSTa3R5g_4fb3TJ8HRHZswZYFnzzc_RFzCNnISACxjaS1rWUg4oVijyZUjaDuJJeuaIA-4wQE6LGvovrjXqp8EYfCMmbLlF9cb2AQYVQYo-bY/w240-h320/IMG_0105.JPG" title="Elder Arambula working 16 hours at the LA County Election" width="240" /></a></div>The cell phone theft comes at a difficult time for Arambula. Arambula, 22, recently left home, because of his broken family, who struggles with gang activity and addictions. Hence, Arambula was working two jobs, one was as a temporary worker for the LA County Election and as a private boxing and fitness coach. His new business is New Life Boxing and Fitness. <p></p><p>Because of the cell phone loss, Arambula lost two days of work as an election worker, which is about $600, about a month's rent for him. Arambula, however, made up for it by working 16 hours for the LA County Election from 5:15 AM to 9 PM.</p><p>After Arambula posted a picture of the thieves on his Instagram, followers have demanded justice. Comments state "Call ICE"; "Scum bags My daughter has had their purse stolen recent[ly] at Hollywood clubs"; and that Arambula should go back and attack the thieves. Instagram screenshots have been published below.<br /><br />When asked what Arambula wanted, he stated, "I want these thieves to be investigated, arrested, and prosecuted. I want to get these thieves off the streets. People like this are destroying our society, making it worse, and need to be sent back to where they're from."<br /></p><p>* * *<br /></p><p>The email address of Captain Heredia, the General Manager of the Avalon Theater, the owner of the Avalon Theater, and Chief Arakawa at South Gate are as follows, respectively: <span class="gI"><span data-hovercard-id="31900@lapd.online" data-hovercard-owner-id="121">31900@lapd.online</span>,<span data-hovercard-id="barney@avalonhollywood.com" data-hovercard-owner-id="121"> barney@avalonhollywood.com</span>,<span data-hovercard-id="john@avalonhollywood.com" data-hovercard-owner-id="121"> john@avalonhollywood.com, darakawa@sogate.org.</span></span></p><p><span class="gI"><span data-hovercard-id="john@avalonhollywood.com" data-hovercard-owner-id="121">Arambula's instagram is <a href="https://www.instagram.com/elderboxing107?igsh=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr">@elderboxing107</a>.</span></span></p><p><span class="gI"><span data-hovercard-id="john@avalonhollywood.com" data-hovercard-owner-id="121"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGqAHIqX4kZvYGHP3zGsWdI9wQSYHNI3mQHe8OZrQ2COduojOpDUGL4mYsW9ltcexzGsybL57b3bX-O-m3z9vvGDsHUqBcUc9LtnnRmKig0GdZqDDlWwoVAJcDbV_0ojeYYC1-fOlShdU1Shpbmjp8yzbhfFfvZJ1JjBm6AvAM-NYyECMQma653lYA5-v/s1792/IMG_0162.JPEG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGqAHIqX4kZvYGHP3zGsWdI9wQSYHNI3mQHe8OZrQ2COduojOpDUGL4mYsW9ltcexzGsybL57b3bX-O-m3z9vvGDsHUqBcUc9LtnnRmKig0GdZqDDlWwoVAJcDbV_0ojeYYC1-fOlShdU1Shpbmjp8yzbhfFfvZJ1JjBm6AvAM-NYyECMQma653lYA5-v/s320/IMG_0162.JPEG" width="148" /></a><span class="gI"><span data-hovercard-id="john@avalonhollywood.com" data-hovercard-owner-id="121"></span></span></div><span class="gI"><span data-hovercard-id="john@avalonhollywood.com" data-hovercard-owner-id="121"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4KhHpPR3OXZ-ysTMhDJ9y_Gu5dX4_ablrMnY2F_2Yl-Sm5dDhVHfXrc02Ct8WcJABaYwuLuElBeSj3khm2C_gVG8hTf3wdMktnMoAdQXXV-Jx7EcDMU94KNMIMBa_TnJDX7ACkWU403zDet_gpzTt1i8Z8g10bI3qaXdhc_A6Iv_Xj7qpbJFj_xx6oyR/s1792/IMG_0164.JPEG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4KhHpPR3OXZ-ysTMhDJ9y_Gu5dX4_ablrMnY2F_2Yl-Sm5dDhVHfXrc02Ct8WcJABaYwuLuElBeSj3khm2C_gVG8hTf3wdMktnMoAdQXXV-Jx7EcDMU94KNMIMBa_TnJDX7ACkWU403zDet_gpzTt1i8Z8g10bI3qaXdhc_A6Iv_Xj7qpbJFj_xx6oyR/s320/IMG_0164.JPEG" width="148" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfgO9YTHXrlDucfBQlZZ8RbkqxRyH953ZRZUhfbSYBeQd-CzOlvXrE94bG9EKTmI44IVyJ9JAXqchHD3YCffk3LycvEXsEGmFT8-H71BSAopxxS8eJmio2PtWR9OAZAcyKClHVOw3te-h1XDY3scJXwcqev-QevzDE2pUFpfe6k9DjSFB8YPrVm5AE_jGh/s1792/IMG_0165.PNG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfgO9YTHXrlDucfBQlZZ8RbkqxRyH953ZRZUhfbSYBeQd-CzOlvXrE94bG9EKTmI44IVyJ9JAXqchHD3YCffk3LycvEXsEGmFT8-H71BSAopxxS8eJmio2PtWR9OAZAcyKClHVOw3te-h1XDY3scJXwcqev-QevzDE2pUFpfe6k9DjSFB8YPrVm5AE_jGh/s320/IMG_0165.PNG" width="148" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNtiJqFJj-JeWbBXug9VBcqfPxCSUMv-n63Xx5YHyunYtu5aLTVsR6lJV34YRpjzeNJriaTsqYlinJGcAqX-LX64s7VVj2zEFIQSbR1tsDhxNoRFQfWnQt7_s198i9YgtIransiS24OEGLhLVpvA37pEiLdTMsKbNd6Gmy3kGtjKykh4dHbHLHgFLK2Q_/s1792/IMG_0166.JPEG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNtiJqFJj-JeWbBXug9VBcqfPxCSUMv-n63Xx5YHyunYtu5aLTVsR6lJV34YRpjzeNJriaTsqYlinJGcAqX-LX64s7VVj2zEFIQSbR1tsDhxNoRFQfWnQt7_s198i9YgtIransiS24OEGLhLVpvA37pEiLdTMsKbNd6Gmy3kGtjKykh4dHbHLHgFLK2Q_/s320/IMG_0166.JPEG" width="148" /></a></div><br /> </span></span><p></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-29515565079444204182024-01-01T16:58:00.000-08:002024-01-14T11:14:50.430-08:002024 - The Year of the Slain Dragon - the Year of Truth<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfc3yOIH51xidPDSjKGgEHol4F7Q5OVx_eKJAPHtp10x8wSEsrGUUFa21PjNolqZbBiFdIcvga4xYaH8gnNK_XUAUm95VvY3e0yXU0nz9zpt3RR445eSskkHcZ4Yl-YOkoOAaa8EbnwScmMVSpQCKgfSiFV-pLVt4YCmrpARG-L_trvAN3eNtSB5DlNMp/s1920/joao-pedro-de-magalhaes-camargo-dragao-44bportifolio.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1344" data-original-width="1920" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfc3yOIH51xidPDSjKGgEHol4F7Q5OVx_eKJAPHtp10x8wSEsrGUUFa21PjNolqZbBiFdIcvga4xYaH8gnNK_XUAUm95VvY3e0yXU0nz9zpt3RR445eSskkHcZ4Yl-YOkoOAaa8EbnwScmMVSpQCKgfSiFV-pLVt4YCmrpARG-L_trvAN3eNtSB5DlNMp/s320/joao-pedro-de-magalhaes-camargo-dragao-44bportifolio.jpg" width="320" /></a>I predict this is the year that the dragon will be slain. On the Jewish Holiday of Yom Kippur - I fasted without drinking water or eating food for 24 hours. During that time, I was reading the Holy Scripture and this verse stood out. "<span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> will fight for you; you need only to be still." (Exodus 14:14). In other words, trust in the Lord to win our victories for us. </span></p><p></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904"></span><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904"></span><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">Here's 2023 in review. <br /></span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">In my blog post <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2023/01/">predicting last year</a>, I talked about achieving peace in my life. For the most part that was accomplished and enjoyed.</span><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904"><br /></span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">On the legal front, I was able to win a restraining order in an elder abuse case. In that case, the court found that a secret wife had abused her husband, stealing all his property, and abandoning him in a foreign country. When that didn't work, she failed to give him medical care, hoping he would die. I'll write more on this case later.</span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">I also settled the case another elder abuse case. <br /></span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">Finally, I finally settled a case I was working on for over four years. </span><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904"> </span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">An incident happened to me in July that forecasts the battle with a dragon. In July, a mean</span> and nasty woman from China, who was born and raised there, hit my car and thought she got away with it. Her name is Kathy Han. (I'll be more than happy to dedicate an article to her, to warn the world about her.) After she bumped into my car at the Bank of America parking lot, she sped off. I called the police to pull her over. She still refused but finally did so.</p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">Then, she called the police and falsely accused me of punching her. I was in shock. She said that she didn't bump into my car. She said that she was a lawyer, and if I kept pursuing it, she was going to sue me.<br /></span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">Han </span><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">grabbed my phone without my consent, while I was filming her. The police just asked us both to leave.</span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">I was furious that someone would falsely accuse me in this way. I asked the California Highway Patrol Commissioner, Sean Duryee to reopen the case. To my surprise he did. The officers retrieved video footage at Bank of America of this woman bumping into my car. And that was it. She was liable.</span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">The whole incident made me really disappointed in humanity and showed me how evil and wicked people could be. There seems to be a whole movement that wants to excuse human depravity because of nurture and not nature. I don't think so. </span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">There are evil people out there; psychologists and the secular society calls them sociopaths, psychopaths, narcissists, and anti-socials</span><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904"> Judeo-Christianity says that they're evil. There's people out there that get a high off of hurting others and getting away with it.</span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">* * *</span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">There's also been a restoration in relationships for me. In five days, I had three set of people, who were gone for years, come back in my life. That was amazing. You can't replace people. And it's like having a lot valuable returned to you.<br /></span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">* **</span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">For this year, dragons are an evil symbol in Judeo-Christianity. In the Jewish Scriptures, the dragon is represented both as a serpent and the Leviathan. In Christianity, the Dragon represents Satan. </span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">Coincidentally, it seems to be global symbol. It seems like most cultures have depictions of dragons, from the Mayans to the Asians to the Europeans. </span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">Going back to the verse that I mentioned above, we need to trust in the Lord for victory. It's a time to let go and not try to control everything. Our duty is only be faithful to the small and large things the Lord calls us to.<br /></span></p><p><span class="text Exod-14-14" id="en-NIV-1904">I end by stating that this will be the year that the black dragon falls and is slain. I predict that this is the year that Truth will prevail and expose the evils of the black dragon. <br /></span></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-87280964833979403302023-12-27T13:01:00.000-08:002024-01-14T11:14:01.975-08:00The Blazing Summer in Paris: Meeting Unique People, Food, Drink, and Art.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Ul_AmM0a8R4rrgT-Urq9DwAySBvkN0ajIaq9Yd-_b-Svtu_hyphenhyphen3-sUq0PA6mmHAIaaYn11JJX8sAQqj48m-jcBbUwbEVX-OSIwXZCBdRAK2G4W_rWoK7PclwXVfn576p39R3Ar_aDkhXYHpBuY8x8me5m9ybkFTXDhLxTvpYOCDEptEAdzr6e2hsQYgZH/s2048/IMG_20230910_142709_196.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Ul_AmM0a8R4rrgT-Urq9DwAySBvkN0ajIaq9Yd-_b-Svtu_hyphenhyphen3-sUq0PA6mmHAIaaYn11JJX8sAQqj48m-jcBbUwbEVX-OSIwXZCBdRAK2G4W_rWoK7PclwXVfn576p39R3Ar_aDkhXYHpBuY8x8me5m9ybkFTXDhLxTvpYOCDEptEAdzr6e2hsQYgZH/s320/IMG_20230910_142709_196.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I looked at the Mona Lisa for the second time in my life<i>, </i>and I had the same thought when I looked at it 22 <br />years ago: <i>What's so special about this painting</i>? There were so many people crowded around her, all wanting to selfie with her. I wasn't that interested. To be honest, the Mona Lisa looked more like a man than a woman to me. And apparently, the Daily Mail also<a href="https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1352915/Mona-Lisa-model-man-Was-Leonardo-da-Vincis-male-apprentice-model.html"> thinks so</a>. Anyways, I think the most beautiful girl at the Louvre is the Mysterious Antea from Naples, featured below.<br /><p></p><p></p><p>It was fun to be in the Louvre again. I bought the virtual guided tour, and they give you this Nintendo DS. It's like a Nintendo Game Boy, to use, to navigate through the place. </p><p>I felt like a kid being in the Louvre again. It's so huge, and it feels like a labyrinth. I could only stay for four hours though. Otherwise, I feel too overwhelmed. You can't do the Louvre in one day, and I wasn't coming back on this trip. I was arted out.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMFqBgXb-6-Op5nAizwbz7tuV2ydIyZq19jrt8fkMtz-gwPanxmz_wXxx-DAh5nyOgw6FBGIxGBsjisUyowxRHKabMfN1X8XM8O9sUz6EoQtaN4heajfiVjx4TLnXmI9zKeuWpUqxji5Le_Jgd5pTPIcXmV8qY_nJJYokmzbgCv6jc7AIMZ0fiDgNqQM8/s273/Antea_CROP_170.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="170" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMFqBgXb-6-Op5nAizwbz7tuV2ydIyZq19jrt8fkMtz-gwPanxmz_wXxx-DAh5nyOgw6FBGIxGBsjisUyowxRHKabMfN1X8XM8O9sUz6EoQtaN4heajfiVjx4TLnXmI9zKeuWpUqxji5Le_Jgd5pTPIcXmV8qY_nJJYokmzbgCv6jc7AIMZ0fiDgNqQM8/s1600/Antea_CROP_170.jpg" width="170" /></a></div>I will have to say, I spent a good amount of time studying the golden symmetry and proportions of the art. What you notice about the masters is that they mastered the skill of proportion, which is the same as beauty. I try to design all of my aquariums with the same type of symmetry, but it takes work and time<br /><p></p><p>Paris was hot and sweltering in September. The locals told me it was unusual. When you exited the shower, the sweat stuck to your skin. Passion and excitement were in the air in Paris.<br /></p><p>* * * </p><p>Over 20 years ago, I was in Paris. I told myself I would never come back. I was studying my physics, then, in the South of England, and we all took a trip to Paris for three days. I was too poor back then to take a plane ride to Paris; so, we took some ferry across the English channel. A number of us got seasick.<br /></p><p>It was raining. The French were mean and told me to go back to my country, because I couldn't speak French. I told myself these were the nastiest people I ever met and was never coming back to France, let alone Paris.<br /></p><p>And yet, I gave France another chance back in 2012, when I lectured at the law school in Aix-en-Provence. I'm glad I did. The people were amazing. And I certainly fell in love with the country and people when I was living in the Alps. I learned French then, because no one spoke English there.</p><p>I have to say that Hemingway is right that there's no place like Paris, even though they still have some of the most inhospitable people one can find. I think the one thing that Paris does, unlike any other city, is that it brings special people together. The other two things are the art and food.</p><p>I sat down at a cafe near the Notre Dame Cathedral, which was still being rebuilt. I spoke French to the waiter. On the left were English people. On my right were Germans. I spoke to the Germans in German. The gentleman was an older man with a mustache. Retired, maybe, or could be. Him and his group push biked from Cologne to Paris. People looked surprise that I could speak in German, French, and English. I was the strangest Asian guy they met. Like I said - Paris brings everyone together.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkdWNY08H8reErgx-NSNAbi_ke_yH1rac8J73xbCbZ4Ib5bGRHq36CyF8MQLO7xB7oxeVOncimENUQVFUkzM9oSnJ1FWJ4ogGmiMF4H2XIteXyed5vDxDo7nw-NpIpukTsr61i8vE5blOm5ZwjkKamgTTXbkrBFo6LMIgz8oCyWpgPIQ54sCaLX74NYet/s1268/1268px-Notre-Dame_Seine_Pont.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1268" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkdWNY08H8reErgx-NSNAbi_ke_yH1rac8J73xbCbZ4Ib5bGRHq36CyF8MQLO7xB7oxeVOncimENUQVFUkzM9oSnJ1FWJ4ogGmiMF4H2XIteXyed5vDxDo7nw-NpIpukTsr61i8vE5blOm5ZwjkKamgTTXbkrBFo6LMIgz8oCyWpgPIQ54sCaLX74NYet/s320/1268px-Notre-Dame_Seine_Pont.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>While I looking at the River Seine, I had a glass of Cote Du Rhone. The English guy on my right was actually a Member of Parliament. That's the equivalent of an American senator. He told me he wanted to become the Prime Minister. He broke his arm a lot for some reason.</p><p>We chatted about this and that. I wonder who the German was and what he did. He just told me liked the cheese and potatoes and his beer tasted good.</p><p></p><p>On another day, I sat at another cafe by a museum. There was an old obese American guy chatting up a 60 year old art expert. The American guy was trying to have a mistress in Paris. She was elegant and spoke English with the coolest French accent. She reminded me of the actress Helen Mirren.<br /></p><p>And then on another day, I sat at another cafe and ordered a glass of champagne. The couple on the left were Dutch. So was the guy on my right. I greeted them in Dutch. I know a few words. I had a Dutch boss once. We got along really well.<br /></p><p>The Dutch couple on the left, older, told me they took a carriage ride from Amsterdam to Paris with four horses. They dressed up in a proper morning coats and lady outfits. The woman said she waved to everyone coming down to Paris, and she felt like a queen for day.</p><p>The waitress was impressed I could order in French. She said my pronunciation was very good. Later a young guy and girl replaced the Dutch older couple. They were locals. And the guy was in love. And the girl was shy. And it was so nice to watch them on a hot summer's day.<br /></p><p>***</p><p>I can't say everyone I met was pleasant. We had these two Vietnamese Americans who never traveled before at our hostel. The girl was probably 18-22. The father was 35-40. The girl said she was wild for sex and practiced lots of it. Safely - of course. Did I really want to know that?<br /></p><p>They looked more like a couple then parent and child. In fact, they also acted that way. They were selfish and awful and unpleasant.</p><p>Well, they were civil enough in the beginning. But they liked to club and make a big raucous when they came back from clubbing, waking everyone up. They had no respect for other people's space, as their stuff was everywhere - like a messy teenager's room.<br /></p><p>And they hogged up the fan too. Remember; I told you it was boiling hot. </p><p>The day they left, I almost told them, "I"m so happy you're leaving. Good riddance to bad rubbish." But I controlled myself. But I didn't want to. I wanted to tell them. And badly too.<br /></p><p>* * *</p><p>I stayed by the main train station, at a hostel called <a href="https://www.st-christophers.co.uk/paris/gare-du-nord-hostel/">Saint Christopher.</a> There was a young women receptionist by the name of Ruth. She was the sweetest soul. Her smile always brightened my day. She told me her father was Italian and fell in love with her Brazilian mother in the Amazon. She had a European passport and came to Paris to better her French. She always provided great instructions around the city.<br /></p><p>Where we were at, the residents were mainly black Africans. They gambled outside, screaming and hooting at wins and losses. I ate at a chicken restaurant there. The food was amazing. The chicken was spicy with an African kick. Tasted like jerk. The Africans told me they were mainly from Cameroon or the Ivory Coast. Like in the United States, I noticed that they were mainly the manual labor in Paris. </p><p>I invited a white guy at the hostel to eat with me there. His name was Patrick. He was scared at first of the different culture. I told him to relax and sit down and eat. He did. He agreed that the food was amazing.</p><p>* * *</p><p>One night at the hostel, there was a big rugby match against France and New Zealand. The streets were flooded with people. You couldn't find a seat at any nearby bar. </p><p>Patrick replaced the annoying father and son duo. Patrick was from New Zealand. I could tell he didn't travel much. He asked me to go with him to meet Kiwis at the Rugby World Cup. I don't know why, but I wasn't in the mood.</p><p>Instead, I walked to a local bar. I sat down by myself with my book - <i>A Moveable Feast</i>. I ordered a glass wine. Cote du Rhone, again. A graceful woman came and introduced herself as Lucy. I don't think I was going to be reading my book. </p><p>We talked. She was an art curator. She practiced her English with me, which was very good, and she knew it. She told me where to eat and what museums to see. Lucy said the best French restaurant was around the corner, but that I needed a reservation. It was always booked.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The next afternoon, I walked to this restaurant, which was booked. The owner said that there wasn't going to be a space open until next week. I told him I was leaving soon, though, and I had to eat here. I spoke to him in French and asked him to please give me a seat. He took pity on me. He said, "Now then. I'll sit you now."</p><p>I said, "Yes." I ordered fried breaded lamb sweetbreads. That's lamb pancreas. I ordered it with red wine and had their creme brûlée. It was excellent. Crispy on the outside and meaty and soft on the inside. It washed down well with the silky wine.</p><p>I told the owner that the food was excellent, and I needed to come back. He said he had no space for dinner, but he would make room, just for me. I thanked him again.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhg74qU_9Xygo83zDYV066b9tL8Eea53_DZvZnuKQYcqB4EGT9RjJfGzpZ5Ib5-ggf51sI2HUn2eMW6qTDMPaRRSXG0uyrzj-6Db_wtUsJ0r2J2vCSbB71mzvfzgAoZAZ8EqQMT8B0OZNTx3ohSmxMEqtZ3UKDXbQdORMCCbZLVAejCZXzkAvw7nsWlOW/s1600/PHOTO-2023-11-14-09-48-28.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhg74qU_9Xygo83zDYV066b9tL8Eea53_DZvZnuKQYcqB4EGT9RjJfGzpZ5Ib5-ggf51sI2HUn2eMW6qTDMPaRRSXG0uyrzj-6Db_wtUsJ0r2J2vCSbB71mzvfzgAoZAZ8EqQMT8B0OZNTx3ohSmxMEqtZ3UKDXbQdORMCCbZLVAejCZXzkAvw7nsWlOW/s320/PHOTO-2023-11-14-09-48-28.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Later, towards the evening, I went back to my hostel room and saw Patrick in bed. He said he didn't feel well from the Rugby event yesterday. I felt bad he wasn't seeing much of Paris. I asked if he'd like to walk with me to Montmartre, which is a large hill in Paris, which has a cathedral on top. He agreed. <p></p><p>So, we took a 40 minute walk through the back streets of Paris. Patrick told me about his life. He was on his overseas experience. He broke up with his partner. They were saving for a house. Now he had money for a trip. He was a surveyor. And living in the United Kingdom.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMgIrEBs4A4b2GVRBGrV3Go9Wlx6zbNkg3Zl26ZAIPxZnQhpnRJP0sboa7yOetWO093AGw8-ZV0JB3aSsVBSRLfUtmGNY5a1Cv9qBTBDdyACZUV9smrrDJMnmtCxVkfoIwXoTEt0hXXRBBPYknvVMTQNl8UMal7BVOGm-WgrJULrapJC_qxuT0jI6ZlDO/s1600/PHOTO-2023-11-14-09-49-10.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMgIrEBs4A4b2GVRBGrV3Go9Wlx6zbNkg3Zl26ZAIPxZnQhpnRJP0sboa7yOetWO093AGw8-ZV0JB3aSsVBSRLfUtmGNY5a1Cv9qBTBDdyACZUV9smrrDJMnmtCxVkfoIwXoTEt0hXXRBBPYknvVMTQNl8UMal7BVOGm-WgrJULrapJC_qxuT0jI6ZlDO/s320/PHOTO-2023-11-14-09-49-10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>When we went to Montmartre, it was full of people. People everywhere sitting on the hill, overlooking the City underneath the expansive pink and red and orange sunset sky. Patrick and I went to the cathedral inside, which was exquisite and ornate. I actually liked the cathedral there better than when I visited the Notre Dame.<p></p><p>After spending time there, I asked Patrick if he wanted to eat at the French restaurant I made a reservation at earlier. He said yes, and we walked hurriedly back to the train station area.</p><p>The host was fine I had another person there, even though he was booked. We ordered cockles and wine. I had cuttlefish in mustard champagne sauce. It was amazing. Patrick ordered a red meat dish. And Patrick agreed the food was amazing.</p><p>I thanked the host again. The waiter was so happy and thrilled and gave me the warmest hug. I hope I could see the two of them again. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTLmMuwB-y1KUkt1A9UnBjwymUYKkN_1V6eeiAYNWCLGeH1pYzvfXSlWvXl5jcz9jmwvqnuUp3ZpSN_JCdvffJ1MwVeXg6_0F4LtiwLRvchaU3OOkKFPYscv5Y-noVRmtUfBRbVnZtumOVrtfSRrsqiVQ8PT1OrV71SHp77CwpTNrNFYg6VdfJgc9Ia_7b/s225/Untitled.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="225" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTLmMuwB-y1KUkt1A9UnBjwymUYKkN_1V6eeiAYNWCLGeH1pYzvfXSlWvXl5jcz9jmwvqnuUp3ZpSN_JCdvffJ1MwVeXg6_0F4LtiwLRvchaU3OOkKFPYscv5Y-noVRmtUfBRbVnZtumOVrtfSRrsqiVQ8PT1OrV71SHp77CwpTNrNFYg6VdfJgc9Ia_7b/s1600/Untitled.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>After eating, we returned to our room and there was a new guest. He was from Tibet. He told us some a harrowing story. This guy put up a poster of freeing Tibet. The Chinese government found out. They started hunting him down. He hired a coyote and escaped to Nepal. And from there, they forged him a passport to seek asylum in Paris.<p></p><p>He was a very kind person, and I welcomed him to the Western World. He spoke good English. I told him his courage was very impressive and thanked him for telling his story, which I'm retelling to a limited version here.</p><p>* * * <br /></p><p>And that was it. The next day, I took the train from the central train station to the airport. I just made it to my flight back to Los Angeles. The flight attendant was excellent in finding a lost phone, I dropped between the seats on Air Tahiti Nui.<br /></p><p>On the plane, I was processing my entire summer trip of 2023. There were definitely some big themes to it. I think they were, hospitality; North and South (I kept going up and down on this trip); and new people and what they represent.</p><p>A friend picked me up at the bus stop near home. I brought him some fried chicken from the African restaurant. And I shared that food with him. And after he ate it and enjoyed it, I realized that the Moveable Feast was over. It'll come again.<br /></p><p>* * * <br /></p><p>Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy New Year!<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilB9fBcFhBeb-BJ5dREtA41uMIxLtiad2_6rK0Sfs5eL-zpanc9NLGm1_7DxhNlhFbilCkFd8ZhxdWSo-fUJ_x58IxKqAgOK4h2rJY8E9qEKR4mDNhOE-G2jtVCFcxZ3JKpEFTCkv8YH77GfwSdw5pvarNQMh60Uq9giNEbfAXRbAphIQEaeQj-pwU25z-/s2048/IMG_20230907_170409_469.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilB9fBcFhBeb-BJ5dREtA41uMIxLtiad2_6rK0Sfs5eL-zpanc9NLGm1_7DxhNlhFbilCkFd8ZhxdWSo-fUJ_x58IxKqAgOK4h2rJY8E9qEKR4mDNhOE-G2jtVCFcxZ3JKpEFTCkv8YH77GfwSdw5pvarNQMh60Uq9giNEbfAXRbAphIQEaeQj-pwU25z-/s320/IMG_20230907_170409_469.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-43343175762650627042023-11-13T14:19:00.000-08:002023-12-27T12:33:59.774-08:00Communion in Dusseldorf: Receiving the Blessing of the Movable Feast<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHcZbwxmE_qnFX9Npg0PMMA8PdMSLn7anqmY1ysVjgKm4rwt69M3SCtce7vWlDNYIZANqGDYGIHtj3IbzJ8TybcXs2vxWxLnn9O_UCyg9967tgb4rZ8_BuPhyQ2SlyRnAKZz4ksicqw-8-SUxe8thLYiSoupFd4WVtiHa0cTdyRpi8w0ek4mF7tdNz-us/s640/rememberme.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="640" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHcZbwxmE_qnFX9Npg0PMMA8PdMSLn7anqmY1ysVjgKm4rwt69M3SCtce7vWlDNYIZANqGDYGIHtj3IbzJ8TybcXs2vxWxLnn9O_UCyg9967tgb4rZ8_BuPhyQ2SlyRnAKZz4ksicqw-8-SUxe8thLYiSoupFd4WVtiHa0cTdyRpi8w0ek4mF7tdNz-us/s320/rememberme.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I prayed that the Spirit of the Lord Jesus join us to eat and drink with us, as he did with his disciples before his death, over 2000 years ago. I held the cup of Greek red wine and asked the Lord to transform it into Jesus' blood. I asked Henrik to join me. We touched the bread. We asked the Lord to transform it into Jesus' body, which was broken for us.<p></p><p>We confessed our sins to one another. I asked if Henrik needed to forgive anyone. I certainly did. It's good to let go and not be bitter.</p><p>We then gave thanks for what we were grateful for in our lives. I drank the wine. I tore the bread with my teeth. I handed the wine to Henrik, "The blood of Christ, spilt for you." I handed the bread to Henrik and said, "The body of Christ, broken for you."</p><p>After praying and drinking and eating, the Lord's spirit joined us to celebrate, after all Jesus was and is the King of rest and feasting. The room glowed brighter with a heavenly light. A sense of supernatural peace filled the room and kissed my soul. Time froze and flowed into eternity. An understanding of God's truth and love lingered in our hearts. I didn't know it then, but I received the blessing of the Movable Feast.<br /></p><p>* * *</p><p>From Crete, I found a $74 flight to Dusseldorf, Germany, which took a threeand-a-half-hour, which included the luggage fee. Luckily, my friend Henrik was in town. I haven't seen him since 2016. We <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2016/12/coming-home-from-dusseldorf-and-merry.html">celebrated Christmas then</a>.</p><p>Henrik was very hospitable and met me at the airport, where he took me to his home. The first thing about coming into Dusseldorf I noticed was that it was much more of a modern and industrious country than Greece. For instance, Henrik was talking about his job with the German stock market and how he was challenging share prices of the corporation. Only in the First World, do people discuss such things.<br /></p><p>He treated me to dinner at a <i>biergarten</i> (beer garden) the first night. I had a schnitzel in a cream and mushroom sauce. We chatted about his life, his wife, his child, and his problems with church. I told him I had problems with church. I actually met him through a friend at a church I used to attend in Los Angeles. </p><p>Henrik was really good about helping me sort out the rest of the trip and finding me a train ticket to Paris from Dusseldorf. I was going to take the speed train out of Dusseldorf to Paris. Henrik was excited for him, because he said the Thalys Train was an exciting ride.</p><p>During the day in Dusseldorf, I went to the bookstore to have coffee and write and read. I was still processing my incredible time in Greece.</p><p>The next night, Dusseldorf was warm. And Henrik showed me around downtown and taught me the history of the city. Dusseldorf has this huge modern clock tower, which displays the time like a digital watch. It's located near the ancient part of town. It really sends a message about the future and past coming together.</p><p>After eating döner kebabs (Turkish meat sandwich) and seeing the city, we partook in communion together, the ancient Christian ritual that we're commanded to do. It was amazing that me as a Korean-American and a German, who are separated by 5,482 miles, can practice the same ritual and experience God's goodness, as it was done over 2,000 years ago.</p><p>* * *</p><p>I was running late to get the 6-o'clock train to Paris. We went to the nearest supermarket, but there was only one cashier and a long line. I needed some food for my four hour journey. Some young Arab teenagers saw I was in a rush. I let them know I had a train to Paris. They insisted I cut in front of them. They had the warmest smiles and most welcoming attitude. They knew they were helping me on my journey forth. A bitter German lady behind them didn't seem too happy though.<br /></p><p>Outside, it was 5pm. The sky was bright blue and the sun was full and it was hot. Henrik took me all the way to the train station. The Thalys Train was a bright ruby red.</p><p>I found my seat. We put my luggage in. Henrik stayed with me until the train departed. He started running with the train. It was very kind of him. I watched Henrik, until he disappeared from my window. At first he was at the right side of the window, and as the train outpaced him, he slid more left and left, until he disappeared.<br /></p><p>* * *</p><p>I was thinking about the blessing of the movable feast on my train ride. What's a movable feast? The most important Jewish and Christian holidays, Passover and Easter, are movable feasts. They are celebrated on a different day each year. </p><p>Most people probably think of blessing as wealth, health, and success. But I realized I was receiving a different blessing, one that celebrated life, hospitality, and eating and drinking. Life became one celebration, because there are times to celebrate. People who say religion is a set of rules don't understand that the Christian God is one of festivals, partying, and passion.<br /></p><p>And the feast was movable. It was going with me to Paris. And I was going to invite others to join and celebrate and enjoy. I had a movable feast experience once in <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2018/09/playing-in-stockholm.html">Stockholm, Sweden</a>.</p><p>I realized now that the Movable Feast goes where the Spirit of the Lord is. And the time and place and people will change. But the spirit of celebration and joy is always the same, if you can catch and experience it.</p><p>* * *</p><p>While riding the train, I passed through Cologne and saw the Gothic cathedral out of the window. I spoke to the conductor in German. When they changed conductors, I spoke to him in French. I spoke on my cell phone in English, catching up with people back home. The train was going at 186 miles per hour. The people around me must have thought I was the strangest Asian guy.<br /></p><p>There was fast WiFi onboard. I could see why Henrik said it was an enjoyable experience. It was faster than airplane, because you would have to check in and out. You have fast WiFi. You have a lot of space and a comfortable seat. And you get dropped off directly in the center of the city, instead of having to find transportation from the airport back into the city.</p><p>In the train, I switched out my reading books. I put in my luggage the book on a confederate war general. I pulled out of my luggage Ernest Hemingway's <i>A Moveable Feast</i>.<br /></p><p>My train arrived at the (in)famous Gare Du Nord station in central Paris. When I exited the station, the streets smelled like urine. Everyone outside was from Africa, and there was no white people at Garde Du Nord at night, outside the train station. If you didn't know it was Paris, you would have thought you were in a capital city in Africa. I walked my way to my hostel with my luggage. </p><p>I made it to Paris. The last time I was here was over 22 years ago.<br /></p><p></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-54939989777798934072023-10-10T14:07:00.031-07:002023-10-11T13:28:31.139-07:00Sailing to Santorini and Visiting the Hotel Remezzo<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSSPPLcnOv_vOz-zfQO9hjwz9mPtZabvs0TQjJstGjB6pNOa8rz5oCkYdEyMCDdwRocaC0Jubua4UV9B1ErX1beJEdff6LDwVt8hbXJv5AasBS0bcV-_pTaLePOWQF5AQ7Ubn5GJjq-GSKx_bFHly9so7K3qtoOMuulmyNs2hDC208FzmrF3e1oqFTSnV/s2048/IMG_20230831_194811_241.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSSPPLcnOv_vOz-zfQO9hjwz9mPtZabvs0TQjJstGjB6pNOa8rz5oCkYdEyMCDdwRocaC0Jubua4UV9B1ErX1beJEdff6LDwVt8hbXJv5AasBS0bcV-_pTaLePOWQF5AQ7Ubn5GJjq-GSKx_bFHly9so7K3qtoOMuulmyNs2hDC208FzmrF3e1oqFTSnV/s320/IMG_20230831_194811_241.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>When our ship approached the Greek island of Santorini, it was like looking at the spiky fins of a huge black dragon's tail sticking out of the bluest sapphire waters. The top of the cliffs were covered with white, which looked like snow on ashy, black mountains. I stood at the back of the catamaran. I watched as the engines gulped and spat out huge floods of seawater, creating torrents of white sea foam. And as I looked at the white wake, I felt like I was sailing on a huge and flat sapphire gem. The white wake behind me reminded me of my past and all the unwanted memories and stress that I didn't need. They were all the things I wanted to forget about. The wake, my past, my memories, this trip, would leave a brief scar in the Aegean Sea, but eventually, the Sea would eat it all up and nothing would be remembered, and there would be no traces of the wake or white or the past or memories. <br /><p></p>These islands were created by a volcano, which is still active. It's actually the largest volcano in the Aegean Sea. There used to be more connected landmass, but it sank. Santorini is certainly the place where sea, sky, sun, and fire all converged.<br /><p>Some people say that the lost city of Atlantis is below the waters of Santorini. I imagined that the Leviathan, the ancient sea dragon, lived beneath the waters of Santorini. The Bible asks: "<span class="text Job-41-13" id="en-NIV-13902">Who can strip off its outer coat?</span><span class="indent-1"> <span class="text Job-41-13">Who can penetrate [the Leviathan's] double coat of armor<sup>:</sup></span></span><span class="text Job-41-14" id="en-NIV-13903"><sup class="versenum">? </sup>Who dares open the doors of its mouth,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Job-41-14">ringed about with fearsome teeth?" </span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14">And when the Leviathan is enraged, it blows fire from the Aegean Sea. Some times land is created. Other times, land is destroyed. The Leviathan murders and creates. The earth sinks. It's eaten. It's gone. Forgotten by the wind and sea.<br /></span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14">* * *</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjn0sGdadv-COk-gcOZjvu9KbVxkNxoeNkN_mNx23ulKH_UlczcyjqdD8-yklVTqdZ0jN2dcpUtX8d5mQS6M35cYvXEm1bMT8fH16tjoGQUJVNqrkryZ1KGEsSLjUyxtP1r8fkh2LB7DtRSN8hkTlcmZt2CXUuF8oRfGfh0qILLz2KJZumLeTt4wb9SPQx/s2048/IMG_20230831_190059_264.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjn0sGdadv-COk-gcOZjvu9KbVxkNxoeNkN_mNx23ulKH_UlczcyjqdD8-yklVTqdZ0jN2dcpUtX8d5mQS6M35cYvXEm1bMT8fH16tjoGQUJVNqrkryZ1KGEsSLjUyxtP1r8fkh2LB7DtRSN8hkTlcmZt2CXUuF8oRfGfh0qILLz2KJZumLeTt4wb9SPQx/s320/IMG_20230831_190059_264.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I was waiting for my host. I was thinking that I was not a normal person. I met a stranger on the streets at 2am, who <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2023/09/greek-hospitality.html">invited me to his home and </a>asked me to <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2023/09/my-days-in-crete.html">come to Santorini</a>. And I said yes. Him and his friend were at a funeral in Athens. I was wondering if he was even coming.</p><p>How about if you were me? You didn't hear anything for a few hours. But you know, I knew I could trust Yiannis. His great hospitality was proof enough. No interview needed.<br /></p><p></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14">I waited in Fira, which was full of tourists and was very expensive. Once again, too many Americans. That means prices are going to be high. And they were. </span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14">I ate lunch in Fira. And the food was bad and overpriced.</span></span></p><p>Yiannis sent me a text<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14"> around 3pm to change my ferry ticket home for tomorrow. I was staying the night in Santorini.</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Job-41-14">He told me to walk to meet him in </span></span><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Imerovigli, the next village over. I walked some old farmer's path from Fira to Imerovigli. It was ancient and beautiful and by the sea. I walked it during sunset. There were so many photographers everywhere, probably every 100 feet. This was definitely the Instagram paradise.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">* * *</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">My host found me on the ancient path and invited me to the Hotel Remezzo. He grabbed me and led me to the hotel. The owner's name is Vasillas. He's thoughtful and kind and hospitable. I meet his sister, Electra and his nephew. They're all very lovely family.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">When I enter the hotel lobby, Vasillas makes me a beautiful ice tea. It's hot from the sun but cooler with the winds; so, it's good to have a tea and savoring the moment. The tea is bright and yellow and sunny. <br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">At the lobby, I meet two Californians, who are happy to meet new people. They're names are Jake and Ranithri. They're from the Bay area. </span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">I sit and we do small talk. It's fun. I see a couple sitting away from us, and they want to join. But they don't.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Vasillas and</span><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading"> Yiannis</span><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading"> tell us a little bit about their funeral. Their friend, in his 40s, died from a drug overdose. He suffered depression. </span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Jake talks about some of those issues within his own family. These topics are a real issue in our world now.<br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">* * *</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Vasillas tells me the history of the hotel. It used to be a winery. His father fell in love with Santorini, bought the winery, and transformed it in a hotel.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Did you know there's no fresh water on Santorini? The grapes all grow from the humidity of the air. Also, the dome shapes of the house are round to collect water from the humidity, which drips into a tank. It made me wonder how the first people of Santorini had enough water to survive. It's not like there are wells around.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Also, all the buildings are white, because the ancient people crushed limestone and made it into paint. They did so, to reflect the heat away from the sun and also because it prevents mold from growing. <br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">* * *</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Jake was kind and offered me some of his leftover burger. But Yiannis tells me not to eat, because they're taking me out for dinner. I tell Jake, "Everyone thinks they're my boss." I chuckle. But this is true. They do.<br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Yiannis and Vasillas are kind and invite the other Americans too. And we all eat at their friend's restaurant. The food is so good.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">We have what the Greeks call <i>Mezze</i>, which is their word for appetizers or <i>tapas</i>. We have cream and mushroom, feta and cooked cherry tomatoes, pork belly and grilled onions. They order Santorini wine. The food is amazing. It's some of the best food I had in Europe. And there were so much fun and laughter and the telling of stories. Both Vasillas and Electra are thoughtful and reflective and observant people. There was something special about the dinner.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">* * *</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrtaODQwATSUXLgpdGmjZIUn4el5bB0M1jJe_mLGc5joqj53kMWecIaSce3xMwjJucFkeXUIBZAwvVo4o1tXXFEu2FTzR3z27f_rg8wPK7aPi-O2cgz88Jj3ThizF8bOW_dXOCvgZQ2Ds5CX82i37xPjkuL7dCB9c-xR2nk0r6G_MNWxhZ-MnSFOYmJee/s2048/IMG_20230901_093704_792.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrtaODQwATSUXLgpdGmjZIUn4el5bB0M1jJe_mLGc5joqj53kMWecIaSce3xMwjJucFkeXUIBZAwvVo4o1tXXFEu2FTzR3z27f_rg8wPK7aPi-O2cgz88Jj3ThizF8bOW_dXOCvgZQ2Ds5CX82i37xPjkuL7dCB9c-xR2nk0r6G_MNWxhZ-MnSFOYmJee/s320/IMG_20230901_093704_792.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Vasillas gave me a room for the night. Being in there, I knew I was stepping into ancient Santorini history. I wondered so much about what this room was used for when it was winery. I imagined what it would be like for wine to be aged in this room.<br /><p></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">I was told later the room was once used to make wine. So, I was right.<br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">* * *</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">The next morning Vasillas and Yiannis take me to a breakfast spot high on the hill with beautiful food again. They had whole bread with cheese and honey and nuts, while we drank rich and dark and strong coffee.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading"> Vasillas tells me stories about growing up with his father on Santorini. Not a bad childhood. <br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">At breakfast, at the taking of the toast and coffee, I told them stories from my life. I told them about getting out of debt and freeing myself to do what I needed to. I also told them stories about my cases. I hope it helped them. I hope I told the right stories. </span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">There's a story about the Apostle Paul, who God blocked from traveling to Asia. The Apostle had a vision of a man in Macedonia, which was part of Greece, then. Paul knew that he was meant to go there. I wonder if I was meant to meet Yiannis and Vasillas and Jake and Ranithri. I think I was. </span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Remember when I landed into Germany, I had no plans. I didn't even know I'd end up in Santorini a few weeks ago.<br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">When I tried to pay for the bill, Yiannis already paid for it.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">* * *</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Eventually, it was time to say good bye. After saying good bye to Vasillas and Jake and Ranithri. Yiannis and I, however, sailed back to Crete. We talked about his wine making and his future.</span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">Upon landing on Crete, I ate and drank with Yiannis and Marina. </span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">From there, I went back to my village. I bought two shot glasses from Santorini. One for Nikitas and one for Yiannis. I also bought a magnet for my host of my studio. They were all happy I remembered them.<br /></span></p><p><span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">I felt like Yiannis and Nikitas were my family away from home. I wanted to show them that they were on my mind, and appreciated, even though I only left Crete for two days. And I had this need to tell Yiannis, Nikitias, and Yiannis' family what happened in Santorini. So, I retold my Santorini stories. They listened. Something understood. </span></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-85681199251119285792023-09-27T11:34:00.009-07:002023-09-27T13:42:51.305-07:00My Days in Crete: More Greek Kindness.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgYAHdbWkbpiNefKBkz4ZsHN7tvi887YLee_AoryMYp99JfjEV72aaepjau2nZyG9ntaexQXitwDKp2EdEc3qXjl8K4Ar3uz5sgZ8dO_3XN1RsGT5TqxaY7xruQxiiTjNgnolxyIei2ifCDQeIHsTFMg_GPyzONjLnELgDbmKJ4swUfW-pv9cGcqVV8ilg/s1000/Heraklion-sunset.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="1000" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgYAHdbWkbpiNefKBkz4ZsHN7tvi887YLee_AoryMYp99JfjEV72aaepjau2nZyG9ntaexQXitwDKp2EdEc3qXjl8K4Ar3uz5sgZ8dO_3XN1RsGT5TqxaY7xruQxiiTjNgnolxyIei2ifCDQeIHsTFMg_GPyzONjLnELgDbmKJ4swUfW-pv9cGcqVV8ilg/s320/Heraklion-sunset.jpg" width="320" /></a>I walked into a seafood restaurant, and a tall, athletic and skinny host named Nikitas invited me and asked if I wanted to make a reservation; I didn't know it then, but he was in the Greek military special forces and was half Cyprian. (Did you know Cyprus is the only other country in the world that speaks Greek? I think a territory in Macedonia also speaks Greek.) He was kind, and he really wanted me to feel at home. Nikitas had such a unique name, it took me awhile to remember it. The invitation set the tone of extending the great <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2023/09/greek-hospitality.html">Greek Hospitality</a> that Ianis and Marina showed me earlier.</p><p>There was another restaurant I went to often for coffee called Taverna Dimitra. The first thing I noticed was that there were two notebook computers, and they looked plugged in and like they were used a lot. I found out that the family had a daughter named Dimitra, and she graduated in computer science. Her fiance is Yiannis. Yiannis was also very hospitable and kind, and I built a relationship with that family. Yiannis is also a computer scientist.<br /></p><p>I noticed that they were a happy family and that there was a peace and kindness in their house. And you could see that the children really benefited from a loving and good home. The son was a police officer. There was much to learn here. This is in stark contrast to the stress levels of Los Angeles.</p><p>What I love about the people of Crete is that they have time for you. And they want to know more about you. And they want to talk to you. And they want to develop a relationship with you. In Los Angeles, I feel so pressed for time all the time that I don't feel like I have time for others. Here, they make time for you.<br /></p><p>I finally made it to a small village by the sea. Crete itself was an ancient kingdom by the sea. I was fascinated to know that I was on the island where the Minotaur once lived. And the people love to come and go, talking about Alexander the Great.<br /></p><p>I can't say that there was any eye catching event I experienced at this village. It was quiet. Maybe that's what I needed. And the food was good.<br /></p><p>I read a lot, which was one of the aim of my trips. I wanted to get through as many books as possible. I had 6 books, two of which I was half way through. I read on a feminist memoir on a woman who was sexually abused by her father. She gave birth to a dead baby. She was a good writer. I also read on bone healing. Then there was a book interviewing ultra liberal people, like a Black lesbian woman, who was trying to convince the American public it needed to change and admit it was racist. And guess what? The next book was on a civil war general, who fought for slavery. Now, I was reading on the dirty, bribery world of FIFA soccer. I don't think you're going to meet someone who reads this diversely. <br /></p><p>People ask me why I spend my time reading on holidays, because I can do that at home. But that's not true. I have so many responsibilities; I really have to get away to make time for reading. I stress that again. You have to make time for reading; otherwise, it won't get done.</p><p>I was five minutes by the beach. One thing I didn't like about this village was that there were so many older people and no young single people. These older people were generally British. And I felt like I was stuck in a really large convalescent home.</p><p>The lady at the souvenir shop says she loves the British, because they're well mannered. She disliked Israelis and Russians the most. </p><p>True. They were well mannered. But I didn't like the culture of these older British people. They were extremely self-absorbed and had lost their purpose for living a long time ago. They were there to get a few more years of excitement out of life, even though they couldn't do much, because their bodies were failing them. And then they were going to die. How sad to witness all this.<br /></p><p>The only reason that they could travel was that their British Sterling Pound was strong, and once again, they had lost their purpose in life. Had they been earning Hungarian Forint, they couldn't travel. So, it wasn't anything special that they individually did to have more money. They were just benefitting off the British currency.<br /></p><p>They reminded me of the trashy old Americans you see in Loreto, Mexico and throughout Cabo. It's not a good thing to lose your purpose to live and then try to extract your senior years in some beach town only to then die.<br /></p><p>Russians are no longer allowed to the European Union. But I noticed a party illegally got through through Turkey. That was interesting. And they were typically Russian, wanting to show off their wealth.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Later in the week, I texted Ianis and Marina, remember the Greek couple who showed me <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2023/09/greek-hospitality.html">incredible hospitality</a> and told him where I was. Ianis picked me up. He came from the South and finished his business. The drive was three and a half hours. </p><p>Ianis looked tired. Marina was tired. They had worked all day. They picked me up and we went to sit at a cafe on the coastal rocks, overlooking the Mediterranean sea during a red sunset. It was nice we were continuing the relationship.</p><p>They ordered ice cream. I ordered a glass of red wine. We talked. We caught up. There was small talk and bigger talk and everything in between.</p><p>After Ianis ate the ice cream, he looked so happy. He woke up and became more alert. He also adds: "I really needed that."<br /></p><p>Ianis then tells me to meet him on the island of Santorini tomorrow. I have to wake up at 6 in the morning to do it. (Everyone who knows me, knows I'm not a morning person.) I agree. I'll do it. He says I only have to pay for the ferry ride, which is actually dear.</p><p>I wasn't planning on going to Santorini. I heard it was expensive. I remember it was an Instagram paradise. <i>Why not?</i></p><p>Ianis paid for my wine. I say I'll see him soon. We say goodbye. <br /></p><p>He texts me later not to come, because Marina will not come. I told him, I'll still come. I sleep early. </p><p>I ask Nikitas if he ever went to Santorini. He says he has not.</p><p>I ask Yiannis, the computer scientist, if he ever went to Santorini. He says, "No. Never. I heard it's expensive."</p><p>I slept earlier. Well, I was going to Santorini tomorrow. I didn't know it then, but the Lord was with me wherever I went in Greece.<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-16617280868851924932023-09-19T12:41:00.009-07:002023-09-19T12:48:57.126-07:00Former City Attorney, Robert Tafoya, Suspected of Orchestrating Bribe Payment Scheme to City Public Officials<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOES-naMLwCD5ql1pLsKDIjRTRRYutkx51OUgUizJzzUURP1eKDIfLdL8q-76iyvjohbj8SRxDF5Be6HNVmHGKUsVxKe1coqJo4QQ1ZzshLK1rY12aoku1RSqKODJpLY1YH_kFtoI-Pp6nNvchm-G3vZF7VYLUINN_uWch2NIzrkibpq0xdlltLRN1-LCw/s499/AR-150519658%20(1).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="499" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOES-naMLwCD5ql1pLsKDIjRTRRYutkx51OUgUizJzzUURP1eKDIfLdL8q-76iyvjohbj8SRxDF5Be6HNVmHGKUsVxKe1coqJo4QQ1ZzshLK1rY12aoku1RSqKODJpLY1YH_kFtoI-Pp6nNvchm-G3vZF7VYLUINN_uWch2NIzrkibpq0xdlltLRN1-LCw/s320/AR-150519658%20(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Former City Attorney of Baldwin Park, Robert Tafoya, is suspected of orchestrating bribe payments of at least $70,000 to former city council member, Ricardo Pacheco. Yesterday, the FBI arrested former Compton City Council Member, Isaac Galvan, who was also being held in prison for charges of election fraud. Allegedly, Galvin was the middle man to bribe Pacheco with $70,000 of Yichang Bai's money. Bai bribed Pacheco so that Pacheco could vote for him and his company to receive a license to sell marijuana in the City. Bai was also arrested by the FBI. You can read the details of the arrest from the Department of Justice <a href="https://www.justice.gov/usao-cdca/pr/former-local-politician-arrested-indictment-alleging-70000-bribes-baldwin-park-city">here</a>.<p></p><p></p><p>According to Roger Hernandez, former California Assemblyman, around December of 2018, Galvan learned how to conceal the bribe payments from Tafoya. Galvan would sit in Tafoya's office, and Tafoya would mastermind the scheme in order to conceal the bribe payments to Pacheco. Tafoya then directed Glavan on what to do.</p><p>The DOJ reports that one way this would be done is as follows. "Bai collected checks from third parties who owed him money and then – at
Galvan’s direction – gave Galvan the checks with blank payee lines.
Galvan then gave the checks to Pacheco, who then arranged for them to be
cashed, either by him or third parties."</p><p>Hernandez said that Galvan and Tafoya would also wine and dine clients, like Bai, at luxury steak restaurants like Morton's. On average, the cost of dinner for one person at Morton's is a $120. </p><p>Pacheco, who has already pled guilty to bribery, has had his sentencing date continued by 9 months. The continuance suggests that the FBI has increased their list of suspects. The previous Department of Justice press release accused Council Member Monica Garcia and former Mayor Manuel Lozano of also being involved in the bribery scheme. It appears that more arrests will be coming soon.<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-34759166890605658112023-09-16T16:20:00.004-07:002023-09-19T13:44:53.658-07:00Radical Greek Hospitality: A Mirror to My Own Flaws<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBDNnBi4P4SdSW8t4Eze0g6A7hQqO4nI44hw9SXwzNuvQbA6Sl_2AVZNHqjXzG_1570RqANT_Qo2TxD3Q2nP8irVZ_H1BTF1PP3iWW3Sg3sCrhcv1e2evRdvYOGYoc3wXqS0lBYq7sI-dx2WNKyDdBR29xx1OkeroLGnHYaOc6yMNrulxPjeJD46g4pfdM/s1024/1024px-Jacob_van_Oost_(I)_-_Mercury_and_Jupiter_in_the_House_of_Philemon_and_Baucis.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="1024" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBDNnBi4P4SdSW8t4Eze0g6A7hQqO4nI44hw9SXwzNuvQbA6Sl_2AVZNHqjXzG_1570RqANT_Qo2TxD3Q2nP8irVZ_H1BTF1PP3iWW3Sg3sCrhcv1e2evRdvYOGYoc3wXqS0lBYq7sI-dx2WNKyDdBR29xx1OkeroLGnHYaOc6yMNrulxPjeJD46g4pfdM/s320/1024px-Jacob_van_Oost_(I)_-_Mercury_and_Jupiter_in_the_House_of_Philemon_and_Baucis.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>1:45 in the morning. Heraklion, Crete, Greece. The owner of the hotel slams the door in my face and tells me that if I don't leave soon, she's calling the police. They don't have 24-hour-reception. I woke her up. She tells me I don't have a booking. I tell her I do and that their must be some mistake. If she would only give me the WiFi code, we could sort it out. She repeats herself, if I don't leave, she'll call the police. I tell her, do whatever you want. It wouldn't be the first time people needlessly call the police on me. I didn't know it then, but the Lord was with me.<br /><p>I think to myself, <i>Why the Hell did I chose to come to Greece? What a mistake.</i></p><p>I have luggage to drag around and no place to stay. I better look for a hotel and try to figure out what happened. </p><p>I'm tired. It's a three and an half an hour flight from Amsterdam to Crete. Think about the time to get to the airport and check in. I think checking into the airport takes a lot more energy than I realized. </p><p>I also flew on some budget airline. They crammed us into the small seats like sardines in a can. I sat next to a fat Aryan guy, perhaps Dutch, perhaps German. His body fat spilled over into my space. He was eating a lot of potato chips and licking his fingers after eating enough of them.<br /></p><p>Anyways, trying to figure things out, around the corner, I see a couple, who seem to be enjoying themselves. One guy is in his 40s and in his underwear and hairy and cheery. The woman is dressed in a sleeveless bright blue dress. She's blonde with brown eyes. She looks like she's wearing an ancient Greek dress. Both of them radiate happiness and cheer.<br /></p><p>I knock on their door and say, "Excuse me. Do you speak English?"</p><p>The guy says, "Yes."</p><p>"Can I get your WiFi code? My hotel says I don't have a booking. I need the WiFi to see if this is correct."</p><p>"I'll get you the code. Come on in." </p><p>Remember; it's 2 AM. They found me on the street.<br /></p><p>The woman studies me. She can see I'm agitated and anxious. She hears about me not having a hotel and how the owner threatened to call the police on me. She says, "Don't worry about it. We'll find you a hotel for the night."</p><p>They offer me a drink of strong and fine alcohol in a shot glass. I down it. The host tells me, "Don't do that. Too fast. You have to enjoy it."</p><p>"I'm sorry. It's stressful."</p><p>"Don't worry. We're here now. Everything will be ok."</p><p>They call around to find me a hotel. They can't find anything.</p><p>They say, "It's ok. We'll bring you some bed sheets. You can stay on our couch tonight." </p><p><i>Wow </i>- I think. <i>You barely met me. It's 2AM. You found me on the streets.</i></p><p>The guy says, "Have a drink. Relax. Everything is ok now."<br /></p><p>We talk until 3 AM. His name is Yiannis (John in English) and her name is Marina. Yiannis makes wine and is a jack of all trades, which include driving buses, cars, fixing brakes, and producing olive oil. Marina owns a hotel. I give them Korean noodles, the one that's popular with Korean actors and K-pop stars. I tell them it's not regular instant ramen. I would've given them my Californian wine, but it's missing from my bag.<br /></p><p>We wake up the next morning. Everyone is tired. I apologize to Marina and say, "I'm so sorry to inconvenience you." I feel so bad, when I see how tired they are.</p><p>She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek and says, "Don't you worry about it. We all need help some times."</p><p>I feel shame. I feel humiliated. I know I wouldn't be happy if someone made me lose my sleep. And here I was, a stranger, knocking on the door of people, at 2AM in the morning, on the streets. Her response confronts me with this thought: <i>You need to rethink your values on being inconvenienced. Anyone can be hospitable when it's on their terms</i>.<i> Real hospitality can be real inconvenience.<br /></i></p><p>* * *</p><p>The Jewish and Christian people tell this story. Around 3,400 years ago, Hebrew spies visited a Gentile prostitute named Rahab, who lived in the city walls. Could the spies imagine someone less clean? A prostitute. A Gentile. An outsider.<br /></p><p>Rahab was clearly an outcast by her own people. She couldn't even live in the city. That's why she lived in the border of it, in a wall. But like so many outcasts, she was an observer and understood how people thought.<br /></p><p>When the Hebrew spies arrived, God has already told her to protect them. She tricked the soldiers looking for them by hiding them on the roof, under bundles of flax. The spies promise her, "<span class="text Josh-2-14" id="en-NIV-5884">we will treat you kindly and faithfully when the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> gives us the land.” (Joshua 2:14, NIV).<br /></span></p><p>After the Israelites capture Jericho, Rahab and her family were saved. She converts to Judaism and receives God's blessing. She ultimately ends up as ancestor of Jesus. So, an outcast gets a new family.<br /></p><p>The writer of the Book of Hebrews exalts her as a saint, because of her faith. Goes to show you, we're all only one step away from living a life of faith, if a prostitute can convert to a saint through her faith and hospitality and through an act that saves the lives of the spies. Ultimately, she brings salvation to the City of Jericho. </p><p>* * *<br /></p><p>The next morning, the three of us have coffee. I really need a coffee. They really need a coffee. We sit at a cafe on a small cliff, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The refreshing and salty sea breeze was blowing through the City, through our hair, through the cafe. </p><p>I pay for coffee. </p><p>Later on, Yiannis calls me in the late afternoon and tells me to meet him at a restaurant. He buys me a glass of sweet Greek wine. We chat. He tells me he's having a problem. He can't exchange his Norwegian money for Euros. </p><p>He's in a hurry. He has to take a trip three and a half hours South of Crete. (By the way, Crete is a large island; the 22nd largest island in the world.) </p><p>We part ways. Yiannis and Marina had to go South. I had to find a place to stay.<br /></p><p>* * *</p><p>When I retell this story to the Greek people, their response is that they didn't think such hospitality was shown anymore. Perhaps, 20 years ago. They're proud to know that such hospitality is still practiced. I wonder, when they hear this story, could they see the Lord was with me? I didn't even know at the time. </p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-15925243963115793062023-09-10T09:09:00.010-07:002023-10-30T12:09:00.326-07:00Meeting Van Gogh and the Next Generation in Amsterdam<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #454545;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #454545;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmN6Bh8V2eFIOBTAEV7ivCb7dXUjwLCxSHlHz_-XiA9P1Tj2BY1hp9gdMGSp9cCU9V66lz1Oj9VECXojVwZ8S3EeOqzqS1w6nqgl39oH364RqDA5OnUsB8-39k09Vj30KHpAeAdIyQEUY90_qQocoup_WPhzctNeAJKkcUXG_5o7azaOiwAp2LSxWBnr0Z/s4032/IMG_4255.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photo shot by Max (far right)" border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmN6Bh8V2eFIOBTAEV7ivCb7dXUjwLCxSHlHz_-XiA9P1Tj2BY1hp9gdMGSp9cCU9V66lz1Oj9VECXojVwZ8S3EeOqzqS1w6nqgl39oH364RqDA5OnUsB8-39k09Vj30KHpAeAdIyQEUY90_qQocoup_WPhzctNeAJKkcUXG_5o7azaOiwAp2LSxWBnr0Z/w320-h240/IMG_4255.jpg" title="Last Night in Amsterdam" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #454545;">Van Gogh allegedly shot himself in the chest after he painted some tree roots. He died two </span><span style="color: #454545;">days later. The doctors couldn’t save him. </span><span style="color: #454545;">What I immediately notice about the root painting, which I posted for you, is that it’s a lot more abstract and different than his other works.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545;"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Van Gogh Museum was booked out for 10 days. I was so sad to learn this. I came all the way to Amsterdam, only to find out I couldn’t get in.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> But somehow I talked my way into it.</span> (That’s what lawyers do, right? Talk. Talk. And talk some more.)</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I spent 4 hours in the Museum. Any longer, and I would feel fatigue and frustration. That’s all the processing power I have in me. I felt like looking at each of his paintings, that I knew something of the man and what he was going through.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It reminded me too about how much mental health issues are also correlated with geniuses. I read once that geniuses suffer from a disproportionate amount of mental health issues, namely depression.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I felt so sad that Van Gogh ended his life in the same year he was starting to become well known. I believe he would’ve made it big in his lifetime, if he kept going. It was tragic to see that even though he created all these beautiful paintings, he thought of himself as a failure. Horrible.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>* * *<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk79deZDbEap8o9DsKnn0trywYeP9klhLDlWBgDfUzY9SxrqYEu5ZVMhkwaopEjyAh3SqLjegAlnpaWPOISUcnGYBuewjV8U-W5oXWpNlArn0XeVtyHPgt_DBGJPsDAWmf2YZs35JBbolXYhVBPyehKCRaBp5bot6J9UB0QmeY5Mc50uLrQXNSDzEAF1mh/s2560/IMG_20230822_150240_460.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: georgia; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk79deZDbEap8o9DsKnn0trywYeP9klhLDlWBgDfUzY9SxrqYEu5ZVMhkwaopEjyAh3SqLjegAlnpaWPOISUcnGYBuewjV8U-W5oXWpNlArn0XeVtyHPgt_DBGJPsDAWmf2YZs35JBbolXYhVBPyehKCRaBp5bot6J9UB0QmeY5Mc50uLrQXNSDzEAF1mh/s320/IMG_20230822_150240_460.jpg" width="320" /></a>Back at the hostel, young people are smoking weed in the smoking room. I meet Danish, French, German, American, and Israeli people. I stayed at the Flying Pig Hostel in Uptown. Very great location and atmosphere.<br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I only kept in touch with one guy, a German named Max. He's only 18 and really tall and skinny and likes to do climbing and biking. He seems quiet but is nice and outgoing and enjoys photography. He tells me he's going to be an engineer.<br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Out of everyone in the group, he's the only one who wants to take a group picture. That gets my attention.<br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don’t like the French guy. Well, at first, I kind of did. He was charming enough. But there’s this blonde American girl. Maybe 22. She would look prettier, but she keeps drinking vodka all the time from the bottle. Night after night. I feel so bad for her. She tells me, in her strong American accent, she has a problem but can’t stop. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I tell her it usually has to do with trauma. She tells me that she has a lot to work on her past. She alludes to being abused.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">She sits by me and tells me that she hasn’t had sex in so long. At that point, I thank her for her time and excuse myself.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The French guy, a nerd, 22, engineer, scrawny and puny gets all excited by the opportunity. He takes her to the local park.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">When he comes back, he tells me that he’s a mighty Don Juan, because he had sex with the girl in the park. He also says he’s a knight in shiny armor, because he protected her from some black guy, who wanted to touch her.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I was thinking, <i>The only person she needs protection from is you.</i> I was disgusted. Poor girl.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A lot of the young people there just wanted to numb out. I didn’t get it. They all seemed to come from upper class families. I don’t get why they wanted to numb out. Another spoiled Western World problem and issues with the next generation. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">* * *</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I ate seafood at a local Dutch, posh restaurant. I ate at the table on the sidewalk. Some Italian waiter gets me to order choice shrimp and crab and oysters. The oysters are fantastic. I really love the smaller Dutch prawns from the North Sea. They’re sweet and salty and smell fresh, like the ocean is still in them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The waiter is sly. He says that I need champagne to wash down my oysters and crab and shrimp . I tell him I’m on a budget. He says, “You’re on holiday. Don’t worry about it.” I ordered Italian bubbles instead. Isn’t life just one big negotiation? No champagne. But ok to bubbles. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">At some point, me sitting outside, and cracking crab legs and crab carapaces and peeling shrimp shells and sucking the brains out of the crayfish heads, while washing down my meal with bubbles, is bringing in a lot of clients. Some girl sees it. Likes it. Wants it. Sees the ritual of it all. And then convinces her man to buy it. Soon, I bring in 4 to 5 sets of clients.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The bill was a lot. I felt like I lost my arm. I ask them for a discount since I brought in a lot of clients. They laugh and smile. No discount, though.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I tell myself it’s ok. I was eating nothing but pork and beef in Germany. So maybe, it’s ok.</span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>* * *<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The French guy asked what I did. I told him I ate a seafood restaurant. I asked him what he ate. He said just supermarket bread and jam. He looked angry and envious. I don’t know where he’s spending his money. But it’s not so hard to save up for a nice meal. So, I don’t feel sorry for him. I think this guy’s life runs on being angry and envious.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The next day, I eat at the seafood restaurant again. And they compliment me with 12 French oysters. They make a mistake on the bill. They accidentally gave me a free champagne they want me to pay for. I ordered bubbles, not expensive champagne. Apparently, it was from a fine French bottle.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The shift supervisor didn’t seem too happy. And he told the waiter to not make that kind of mistake again in front of me. This is the Dutch for you. They’re super direct and sometimes it is cold and cruel, especially when all this is happening in front of me. See; there’s a dual personality about them.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I leave feeling guilty about the whole event. I didn’t want to leave it like this. They were a nice restaurant. They’re staff were wonderful. I didn’t spend much there that day. So, I made a decision. Not only did I make the decision. I made a decision not to rethink that decision.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I walk back there during the sunset from my hostel. I give the staff all a big tip. They’re all smiling and celebrating now.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />I could have left and left it like that. I wasn't coming back soon. But that would be wrong.<br /><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I wondered if they picked up on the fact that it was a redistribution of wealth from the store to employees. Eh – who cares? Everyone is happy. I’m sure, even the house.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">* * *<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-converted-space">I got into a pissing match with a tall and young and know-it-all-German guy. He had this attitude he could push around some small, nice-looking Asian guy and reminded me of some Frat boy. (And in case you're wondering, I never had a problem with frat people in university. But he did have attitude.) Well, meekness is not weakness. Needless to say, he lost to me in the match. Hope he learned his lesson. He didn't know what he was getting himself into.<br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-converted-space">* * * <br /></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">One shock I had was that Amsterdam was super expensive. It was twice the price of Germany. And I realize, wherever you hear a lot of Americans, the prices are going to be high. It’s because they’ll pay it. Americans create tourist traps, wherever they go;. I heard American everywhere.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Oh, also, I met an Israeli guy. I helped him book his flight back home to Tel Aviv. He was so sad. He looked brokenhearted. I asked, “What’s wrong?”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">He answered, “I was supposed to have traveled 4 weeks. I spent all my money in Amsterdam in 4 days. I don’t know where it all went.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I nodded. Yes. Amsterdam was cruelly expensive, because it could be. I was happy to leave, because of the prices. I was sad to leave, because of all the kind and friendly Dutch people I met. I’ll remember all the Dutch people, who greeted me with their warm and welcoming smile.</span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Before I left, Aaron, an Irish guy, who works there, sits with me and chats and tells me about his life. It was very lovely and a nice way to leave Amsterdam and the hostel.<br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Time to decide where’s next. I found a cheaper flight from Amsterdam to Crete, Greece. I was going to Greece next. I told myself, stay on course. You made a decision. Stick to it.</span></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-69283302863245621852023-09-08T03:19:00.005-07:002023-10-30T12:09:20.569-07:00Schizophrenic Amsterdam<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBf3DudtZZqF1U2vYGTPr8s7mMhBJVQxzCFA7O44LEqMwS8aifX443d3IjkeJ5K041rbzV59oLRms8oCI9dtHyRKJi2mcZMChlI8aRZPTjWeizN7Cc5SET3HIM0iVPYn-J0uIuJPJljRO2irDqSbV7lo1n2tNKPduVMFUUqq2DyTYKZQRigu1N1chPFQoB/s1600/ddd9be50-8b27-45ba-a070-b197c75bbb6e.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBf3DudtZZqF1U2vYGTPr8s7mMhBJVQxzCFA7O44LEqMwS8aifX443d3IjkeJ5K041rbzV59oLRms8oCI9dtHyRKJi2mcZMChlI8aRZPTjWeizN7Cc5SET3HIM0iVPYn-J0uIuJPJljRO2irDqSbV7lo1n2tNKPduVMFUUqq2DyTYKZQRigu1N1chPFQoB/s320/ddd9be50-8b27-45ba-a070-b197c75bbb6e.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>A lady in a bikini, outside of a window, dances smiles and points and
curls her index finger to tell me to come in. She smiles with her lips.
But I can see, she's dead inside. They're from Africa, South America,
Eastern Europe, but not from the Netherlands. The red light makes their
skin glow. They're in the glass window. They wink. They smile. They ask
you to come in. You can be Prince Hamlet tonight. She’ll make you
believe you are. All for a price.<br /><p></p><p>There’s a long line of people, who want to watch
the live sex show. 60 euros for a full show. 5 euros for a quick show.
The full show even gives you a drink while you’re watching. Did I tell
you that there’s also a church right by the red light district? <br /><br />Sin and repent. Repent and sin. Feel worthless. Feel worthy. Feel shame again. Then pretend that nothing happened. <br /><br />After
about 30 minutes of walking around, we all find the whole thing sad and
depressing. We leave to get a drink. Amsterdam has it all for you,
drugs, prostitutes, arts, culture, and beauty. </p><p>Every corner
smells like marijuana smoke. There’s throngs of tourists. I hear
Americans everywhere. For some reason, I find it annoying to hear that
Yankee accent, so loud and clueless, all the time. <br /></p><p>Amsterdam is
the most Schizophrenic city I’ve been to and so clearly so. There’s pink
and red flowers and canals and water. I can see why it’s called the
Venice of the North. It’s beautiful and charming. But Amsterdam has such
an ugly side to it. One wonders how these two personalities live side
by side with each other.<br /> <br />* * * </p><p>I came to Amsterdam, because
I’ve never been to the Netherlands. My first proper boss in New Zealand
was Dutch. I liked him a lot. He gave me a chance, even when I wasn’t
confident I could get the job done. Because of him, I got my first full
time job in New Zealand. Because of him, I became a resident of New
Zealand. In fact, “Zealand” is a Dutch word. It means sea–land. My Dutch
boss even gave me his family recipe for Dutch donuts.<br /><br />I wanted to understand the Dutch better. So, it was time to go Amsterdam. <br /><br />I
took the 1 o’clock speed train out of Gottingen to Amsterdam. Across me
was a young, 22 year old, shy German guy, who wanted to talk to me. He
wore glasses and had cool gadgets. He was going with his girlfriend to
Amsterdam, just for one night. The German guy’s name was Lucas and he
was a mechanic, who liked Lacoste designer clothes. <br /><br />He did
everything indirectly to get my attention. No one was taking my phone
call back home, while I was riding the speed train to Amsterdam from
Germany. So, why not? I bought an overpriced coffee at the train
kitchen, introduced myself, and started talking to him and his
girlfriend. <br /><br />We talked about what to do in Amsterdam. They told
me that they were going to stay near Anne Frank’s house. Her diary was
mandatory reading in junior high, and I think even high school. <br /><br />I
asked them about their favorite countries in Europe. She was from
Poland. So, they told me Warsaw. I still had no plans as to where I was
going. <br /><br />You know when the train gets into the Netherlands. The
buildings are softer and cuter and friendlier and more cubish. It was
like Pablo Picasso was their architect. German roofs, in contrast,
announce that their German. They’re a dark blue and made of metal and so
austere and strong and tough. They tell you, they can weather any
storm. I’d say the Dutch houses are much more inviting.<br /><br />* * * <br />Five hours later, about 290 miles away, I arrive into Amsterdam Train Station. <br /><br />A
friendly and lovely Dutch lady tells me she makes her fried dough with
love. She takes the time out to help me find my hostel. I check into my
hostel. It’s in Uptown. <span style="font-family: georgia;">I stayed at the Flying Pig Hostel in Uptown. Very great location and atmosphere.</span></p><p> Uptown is lovely and charming and nothing like
central Amsterdam with its red light district. I’m by the museums and
the art galleries.<br /><br />After, I sit down by a river at a bistro for
dinner. The waiters are Dutch. That’s cool. I like meeting Dutch people.
They’re all so tall. Did you know the Netherlands has the tallest
people in the world? <br /><br />They young waiters teach me Dutch words. I
know a few. They’re so happy I’m trying to learn. They’re very warm.
After eating an appetizer and amazing crunchy white bread, baked really
crispy, they ask me to come back.<br /><br />I’m in Amsterdam. Three more weeks of travel.<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-49981457164338088002023-09-05T08:00:00.015-07:002023-09-08T08:48:04.107-07:00Germany's Mental Health Crisis<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1oaGc1jXDRI2oS9BPQ3oeFCoxRCPsyV9r4RrLQ1ZGoCv9qvs2GjmmSOhgRzgksIyBdnoohCbf5kj6GqY5SQSGZoZoPh1GRIbQX9KDV1r6B-nPdW5WP70mjCSHVnfW4yA6jiwAxSdJ9HYxsat59buWzhlGx8RVz39yNX30HvOkFmJ6cIwnid3UqAMh7Rf/s2363/IMG_20230822_145255_573.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1101" data-original-width="2363" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1oaGc1jXDRI2oS9BPQ3oeFCoxRCPsyV9r4RrLQ1ZGoCv9qvs2GjmmSOhgRzgksIyBdnoohCbf5kj6GqY5SQSGZoZoPh1GRIbQX9KDV1r6B-nPdW5WP70mjCSHVnfW4yA6jiwAxSdJ9HYxsat59buWzhlGx8RVz39yNX30HvOkFmJ6cIwnid3UqAMh7Rf/s320/IMG_20230822_145255_573.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>4 AM. Hanover Train Station. Trying to get some sleep in a hard, plastic, red chair. An African woman, maybe in her 50s, bad skin, bad hair, rotten teeth, cusses and screams at me in English, not German. She throws a McDonald’s cheeseburger against my left chest. I feel it hit my left pectoral. The red ketchup stains my cobalt blue shirt. I feel her rage. Searing. Intense.<br /><br />A beautiful blonde German girl, with milk white skin, maybe 22, watches horrified. So does the German girl’s boyfriend. She comes to me. She hands me some tissue and some hand sanitizer to clean myself up. She says she’s sorry. I say, “Danke schoen.” (Thank you.)<br /><br />Other Germans, all Aryans, all young, almost all blonde with blue eyes, are in shock this assault happened. They sympathize.<br /><br />To be clear, I said nothing to this lady. I was just trying to sleep. I said nothing. I didn’t even make eye contact. I said nothing to her. She sat next to me for awhile, eating her McDonald's. I was trying to sleep. Some sleep. Any sleep. I’ve been traveling for over 20 to 30 hours without sleep.<br /><br />Hanover Train Station doesn’t feel safe at this time. I see drug addicts, prostitutes, and Johns everywhere. It wasn’t the Germany I left 5 and a half years ago. <br /><br />But maybe that was the problem. I refused to acknowledge her. Would I have, if I found her beautiful? Who knows? Someone who could validate us. But isn’t that what we do in our busy worlds, with time so precious. We just pretend that the stranger isn’t there. And maybe that’s now culturally acceptable, because strangers can find it weird when you try to strike up a conversation. <br /><br />I think that’s why she threw food at me. First the French fries, which I dodged. Then the cheeseburger. Everyone found it clearly uncivil and rude. <br /><br />I didn’t mean to ignore her. It wasn’t like I was doing it on purpose. I was just minding my own business. I was tired. I needed sleep and wanted sleep.<br /><br />But I’m sure, being physically present but invisible, unrecognized, and unacknowledged, is and was painful. But some are mentally unwell. And this is what happens to them. So, she did what she had to, to get her acknowledgment. And she got it.<br /><br />You might think I’m reading into it too much. But I don’t think so. Did you know in Zula, a South African tribe I met, they’re hello is “Sawubona!” It means literally, “I see you!” They believe we both and only exist, because we both acknowledge each other. <br /><br />Well; in Germany and the USA, this has been erased in our minds. It matters what others could do for us. Time is money. Money is time. And you don’t want certain people in your space. And we all mind our own business. What happens to you is your problem. What happens to me is my problem. <i>Am I my brother’s keeper</i>? Definitely a clash of cultures ensuing. <br /><br /> Another thing. When I tell this story. People ask me if it was a German who assaulted me and quickly point out it: See; it was a refugee.<br /><br />I can’t say I’m above this. Maybe it was good thing it happened to me. It’s made me think about this issue.<br /><br />About 30 minutes later, the mentally unwell woman came back with a lighted cigarette and its red hot ember cherry. Everyone around her moved and ran away. The police came this time. <br /><br />* * *<br /><br />I ended up in this mess, because of a series of things that went wrong, which seems to happen, when I start my trips. It's almost like a form of destructive compound interest. Story of my life. One thing that went wrong was that the Lufthansa flight was late, making me miss my last train. <br /><br />Since the bankruptcy of Air Berlin – Lufthansa has become a terrible airline, with terrible customer service. The problem is that it’s the major airline from the USA to Germany.<br /><br />* * * <br /><br />I went to six hotels in Hanover that night. All of them were booked. The sixth one, the last room was booked by someone who got there five minutes earlier than me. He was so gleeful with himself. <br /><br />I was irritable to have lost out. He was old and fat and middle age and balding and German. I wondered if he was also in Hanover for the prostitutes, which I saw many of. And there were many men like him too. He definitely looked excited to be there. He was no Prince Hamlet, wasn’t meant to be, and never will be.<br /><br />There was a certain cruelty and ugliness about the John–looking–guy and the hotel receptionist. They didn’t care I didn’t have a place to stay. I was homeless tonight.<br /><br />* * * <br /><br />Later in the trip, I stayed at a hotel in Goettingen. There was a mentally unwell woman in our hostel. She was again in her 50s. She talked to herself a lot. She banged on my wall, when I talked on the phone. She screamed a lot. She knew she wasn’t well, but she couldn’t control herself.<br /><br />At first we thought she was from Lithuania. It turns out she was a Ukrainian refuge. The Germans tells me there’s a lot of these Ukrainian refugees now. Allegedly, these refugees all know someone who’s died. The hotel kicked her out the next morning. <br /><br />I told you. No one wants them in their space. <br /><br />* * * <br />Germany definitely has a mental health crisis. Germany’s suicide rate is at 12.3 per 100,000 persons. “Of the G7 countries, the USA had the highest" at 16.1. New Zealand is at 10.2. South Korea is even worse, at 32.5.<br /><br />In 2009, Greece’s suicide rate was only 2.9. Now, it’s at around 5.1. Still low, but has gone up. How did it almost double in 14 years? Regardless, maybe it’s time to go to Greece. <br /><br />* * * <br />Issues regarding mental health appears to be a theme in this trip. Hospitality, or the lack of it, was also becoming a recurrent theme.<br /><p></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-33873185364233899092023-08-28T02:28:00.016-07:002023-08-29T03:04:12.692-07:00Göttingen, Germany Again and Again.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsr9ekwhHTzxbBKgZBuupGCjZPWa7YkSpDHIwpmS_w0p2Y4dLwL0uordke5-9qwkkvqBBFWq1sV_cz2PMbmnsS1T3Yhgus5IYd0PFfHNcrbVdR2Ifl5U_FukAkQZdJoQYMYg5XICRzTcVIlqGnRnjZ7L6PSL9IPrUdD2tksBWL4TW8Sr-Bb3MZDO8cdTgW/s2560/IMG_20230815_201757_861~2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsr9ekwhHTzxbBKgZBuupGCjZPWa7YkSpDHIwpmS_w0p2Y4dLwL0uordke5-9qwkkvqBBFWq1sV_cz2PMbmnsS1T3Yhgus5IYd0PFfHNcrbVdR2Ifl5U_FukAkQZdJoQYMYg5XICRzTcVIlqGnRnjZ7L6PSL9IPrUdD2tksBWL4TW8Sr-Bb3MZDO8cdTgW/s320/IMG_20230815_201757_861~2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This time, my favorite memory in Goettingen, Germany was riding bicycles through the German stone Medieval streets and buildings, streets that lead and lead you to some never ending question. And to be honest - I don't even know what that question is or the answer I should search for. I don't ask what is it. Let us go and make our visit.<p></p><p>The stone road lead to dirt roads through the dark German forest. We pass through scattered shadows and light. We cross wooden bridges, where some of the path is muddy and wet. Around us were flowing creeks, birds chirping, and the announcement that summer was here.</p><p>In the summer, the fire and fury of the soul burns and shines. Life and love are at its prime. The hunter comes alive. The lions roar.<br /></p><p>The afternoon is spread out with an expansive blue sky. Around us was my friend Volker and his family. He has two young girls now with his partner Julia. After thinking about it awhile, I thought we looked like a strange group.</p><p>Blonde and blue eyes. <br />Blonde and blue eyes. <br />Blonde and blue eyes. <br />Blonde and blue eyes. <br /><br />Black hair. Dark amber eyes.<br /><br />Not a usual sight. Thinking about it, we're tremendously fortunate to know each other. How many Americans can ride bikes through the towns and forest with a German family? How many Germans have an American guest that comes? <br /></p><p>If you don't know about Volker, I've known him now for 16 years. You can read him on previous blog posts here - <span><span><a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2012/01/volker.html">Göttingen</a> (January 2012)</span></span><span><span>; <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2014/06/north-saxony.html">Göttingen</a> (June 2014)</span></span><span><span><span> and <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2016/12/seeing-volker-in-goettingen-germany.html">G</a></span><a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2012/01/volker.html">ö</a><a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2016/12/seeing-volker-in-goettingen-germany.html">ttingen (Again)</a><span> (December 2016).</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span> * * *</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>Volker takes me to the public baths. They remodeled it since I last came. It's full of bodies. Volker is already trying to teach his two year old to swim. She loves ice cream and can eat lots and lots of it.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>I go to the adult area. I have shorts on. Some guy tells me in German to take them off. So, I do. Germans love their nudity.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>I roast in steam saunas. I roast in dry saunas. I chill in an ice bath. My heart races. I feel a rush. I like it.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>When I'm done, I recline outside in the sunshine. The garden has the smell of flowers. The sunshine pours over me, searing my skin. It feels warm and nice.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>* **</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>Later Volker has a barbecue at his newly built house. I catch up with his friends. It's after all been five and a half years. I see the different directions their lives have taken. They see the direction my life has taken. </span></span></span></p><p>Volker lights the fire pit, where there’s wood inside. The fire starts and eats away at the wood. Colors of scarlet and orange and smoke appear. We roast marshmallows. Funny, I was just doing this just a few weeks ago in Santa Monica with other friends. <br /><br />Here’s what I noted about Goettingen. All of Volker’s friends left to work elsewhere, only to return to raise their family and children. Can that be said about Los Angeles? <br /><br />I like how they have a tight community. One thing is everyone lives close to each other. So they can see each other often. In Los Angeles – we’re all so spread out from each other. And that makes community harder and isolation more bleak. <br /><br />They’re an educated crowd. We have a mathematician and a statistician. We have a process engineer and a school teacher. I don’t know what Nico does. Leona is something akin to a small claims advisor. And then there’s me.<br /><br />Volker and his friends talk about the important things and the trivial things. The women come and go whispering about kids, jobs, the important and the trivial. Volker updates me on the friends not there. Most have kids. What about me? <br /><br />There will be a time. A time to be single. A time to be alone and a time to commune. A time to create and to bury and recreate. <br /><br />I told the group I have no plans. This is true. I really don’t. No one in their right mind travels like me. I should have been organized. I had an incident in Hanover, Germany. Tell you about it later.<br /><br />But then again, I’ve been to over 50 countries now. I don’t feel like I need to be anywhere particular. I just want to be far far away.<br /><br />It’s clear who travels in the group and who doesn’t. The places that come up to visit are Greece, Portugal, Croatia, and Iceland. <br /><br />We end the night. Nico gives me a warm hug, meaning see each other again in a couple years. I’m jet lagged. I need sleep. <i>Guten nacht</i>.<br /></p><span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="color: #073763;"></span></span></span><p></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-35385393530979130422023-06-12T13:14:00.008-07:002023-06-27T11:29:05.191-07:00The Heresy of the 21st Century Interfaith Movement: A Call to Reject the Jezebel Spirit<div class="separator"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhKQpo1vSCvoBafGLr4TQlpbHYlTSw9qM0fdQgpHYvdpfnVIBrMnKlCRjmgDdkS2-pZ7UdP7YLW_fTymfus7yO98_Oo_iiLQI9zyBZk0nSjkf40FRP0GMq-6rZn9EY7PVzWf19o6Snpcn7X9klbcPpeonShSMhAI8rKf40w8rTl3l-Bpgba53fZiB3Ln7/s780/THE_DEVIL_p.138-139.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="780" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhKQpo1vSCvoBafGLr4TQlpbHYlTSw9qM0fdQgpHYvdpfnVIBrMnKlCRjmgDdkS2-pZ7UdP7YLW_fTymfus7yO98_Oo_iiLQI9zyBZk0nSjkf40FRP0GMq-6rZn9EY7PVzWf19o6Snpcn7X9klbcPpeonShSMhAI8rKf40w8rTl3l-Bpgba53fZiB3Ln7/w320-h250/THE_DEVIL_p.138-139.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>A member of a small group, we’ll call him Mark, sent a group text questioning whether the representation of God in the movie <i>The Shack</i> was accurate according to the Bible. In <i>The Shack,</i> the main character meets the triune God, after his daughter was kidnapped and murdered. Mark finds out that God is really a woman and that she is tolerant of sin and won’t judge or punish it.<br /><br />I already knew that the representation of the Shack’s Trinity contradicted the Bible, but as a newcomer, I didn’t want to rock the boat. Nonetheless, I felt uncomfortable that this was being taught. (For more information on the subject, there are articles by <a href="https://timothykeller.com/blog/2010/1/27/the-shack-impressions">Tim Keller</a>, <a href="https://albertmohler.com/2010/01/27/the-shack-the-missing-art-of-evangelical-discernment">Albert Mohler</a>, and <a href="https://www.epm.org/resources/2012/Sep/26/reflections-shack/">Randy Alcorn</a> as to why the Shack is a heretical representation of the Christian God.)<br /><br />So, I thought I’d ask the small group leader what he thought of Mark’s concerns. The small group leader, I’ll call Abe, said that nothing was wrong with his teaching and that the concerns should be dismissed. According to him, Mark is a young and immature Christian and that it was fiction. <br /><br />I countered by telling him that fiction ia a primary vehicle to introduce heresy. Abe aggressively told me (in not so many words) to stop the conversation and said that I should just move on. He admitted that it was a mistake to bring up The Shack in the study.<br /><br />The uncomfortable discussion brought up other memories. I initially ignored those issues, because I wanted to give the church a chance. I found the church members to be the most welcoming and warm Christians I ever met.<br /><br />But I had concerns. For instance, during Easter weekend, the leader texted us all an article on Holy Saturday, the Catholic belief that Jesus rescued souls in Hell on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. (This belief appears to be similar to purgatory.) Abe would also ask us to repeat these corporate prayers that appeared to written by another pastor in another church. This pastor refuses to publish his biography. <br /><br />A flood of various and seemingly disparate and fractured facts flashed through my head, as I realized that this leader was trying to mingle all kinds of faiths. Was this part of his own spiritual inventory? It became clear; however, that this co-mingling of beliefs was also commissioned by Christian Assembly and many other churches.<br /><br />I started investigating this interfaith doctrine, which I never knew was an intentional movement. I ordered the book <i>Evangelicalism Divided</i> by Ian H. Murray. According to it, the interfaith movement, also known as ecumenism, was propelled in Los Angeles by Billy Graham and Fuller Seminary between 1950 to around 1980. Ecumenism argues that all Christian faiths and denominations are the same, and we are all one. Unity is of the greatest importance.<br /><br />Although on the surface, it appears to be a noble effort to reunify the splintered Church, ecumenism is heresy in disguise and amounts to false teaching. Christianity is separate from other religions in that it teaches that Jesus, who was both God and man, paid the judgment for our sins. In other words, an innocent God, in the form of man, paid the price we should have paid; so, we could be reunified to a holy and Perfect God to satisfy the announced judgment. <br /><br />Ecumenism loathes this belief. It states that just because you call yourself Christian or just because you received a water baptism as an infant, that you are a Christian.<br /><br />The problem with both ecumenism’s definitions are that it doesn’t define what a Christian is. A Christian is not someone born into a religion, though he or she is spiritually reborn later in life. A Christian is someone whose life is transformed by the Spirit, through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the Truth of God’s Word. One was dead, but God resurrects the person from his old, dead life into a new one.<br /><br />One needs to die to her old life and accept this new foundation in one’s heart, mind, soul, and strength to be renewed, transformed, and to become a Christian. Without doing so, a label, or a ritual doesn’t make one a disciple of Christ. Hence, the problem with the interfaith movement is that it confuses the people on what to believe or what to do to find or receive salvation.<br /><br />So why the need for this interfaith movement? I can hear my close friend and editor state the Golden Rule of investigation: Follow the money. <br /><br />In an age of mega churches, which hardly existed 50 years ago, the larger the audience, the more money the church brings in. The less people you offend, the more people can attend. The more people that attend, the more you can shake them down for an offering. And almost every mega church, whether they expressly endorse ecumenism or not, must practice it to feed the administrative machine. <br /><br />Hence, the interfaith movement is a profitable church business model. It’s the goose that laid the golden egg for all the greedy pastors, who generally failed in their other professions, and for their church staff. Now they have a way to be fed, clothed, and housed, because they didn’t make it in the real world. Some live the high life.<br /><br />Take for instance Christian Assembly, discussed above, which brings in more than $5 million a year and then appears to donate the <a href="https://abcnews.go.com/US/california-church-paid-off-million-medical-debt-5555/story?id=67883174">money to nonprofits</a>, one that actually uses two different names. (That practice in itself should raise eyebrows.) <br /><br />Incidentally, I gave Christian Assembly another chance, after the uncomfortable discussion with Abe. But the theological pastor, Matt Price, refused to answer simple questions, which focused on fundamental Biblical beliefs, such as whether this church agreed with God’s judgment or whether it endorsed purgatory. (Given the money and benefits Price makes, you wouldn’t think it too hard for him to write back.) <p></p><p> I asked Price whether he agreed with judgment, final judgment, and Hell, according to the Four Square Assembly values. Price replied, "Please <span style="background-color: white;">seek elsewhere for answers to your questions." Price also told me </span>not to come back to the church, all because I asked these questions.<span style="background-color: white;"> </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"> I responded, "</span>I will assume your answer to be no then. Only you can provide me the answer to your . . . beliefs."<span style="background-color: white;"></span></p><p>Sadly, a church that believes in this interfaith heresy is valuing money over people, profit over Truth, and worldliness over the Kingdom of God. Churches that want to expand the Kingdom of God must renounce and reject ecumenism.<br /><br />And for those who don’t, Jesus decrees a judgment: “But this is what I have against you: you tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a messenger of God. By her teaching she misleads my servants into practicing sexual immorality and eating food that has been offered to idols. . . . I will throw her on a bed where she and those who committed adultery with her will suffer terribly. ” (Revelation 2:20, GNT).<br /></p><br />Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-36693569691561699712023-02-22T13:19:00.008-08:002023-02-22T22:01:43.972-08:00Five Baldwin Park Employees Resign Amidst Federal Corruption Probe<p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTngpyVkyWBJTxDG-Hs7M2zl_jJonLOWXSsmpDUIR5YAI4qM-HUuLv1F5O9hDN0ltzzAFIjkSSmCz0JheDlO9l08bIpI4xhV8tHQ035vgbSTrJ6JOPG_z0gB7VEwyuNOe2C0bm4aP0mA95_L5ToPJESoCCGWpqTTV5lsWKhHmkQkUETSaIrZtXGoT5g/s924/Donkey-corrupt.-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="691" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTngpyVkyWBJTxDG-Hs7M2zl_jJonLOWXSsmpDUIR5YAI4qM-HUuLv1F5O9hDN0ltzzAFIjkSSmCz0JheDlO9l08bIpI4xhV8tHQ035vgbSTrJ6JOPG_z0gB7VEwyuNOe2C0bm4aP0mA95_L5ToPJESoCCGWpqTTV5lsWKhHmkQkUETSaIrZtXGoT5g/s320/Donkey-corrupt.-2.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>From October 2022 to February of 2023, five Baldwin Park employees have suddenly resigned amidst an FBI investigation into a cannabis pay to play scheme. The employees are Greg Richie and Jose Martinez from code enforcement; Carol Averell from housing; Jesus Hernandez from finance; and Fabialo Zelaya-Melicher, from the planning department.<p></p><p></p><p>Residents suspect that the code enforcement employees resigned, because their director, Ron Garcia, was illegally having employees sign off on permits that failed to meet city standards and requirements. Garcia's been suspected of receiving payoffs from businesses to do so.</p><p>Further pressure has also strained city employees. Recently, a federal RICO (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations) lawsuit has been filed against a number of administrators, city officials, and employees. The former city clerk, Lourdes Morales, has been sued personally for fraudulently forging a notary transaction from a victim with cancer.<br /></p><p>Suzanne Ruelas, a former finance employee of Baldwin Park, has filed an employment lawsuit against City of Baldwin Park. According to Ruelas - Director Rose Tam - has been misappropriating housing funds and co-mingling funds to achieve corrupt purposes. Finance employees have been refusing Tam's request to sign off on illegal fund transfers.<br /></p><p>The federal probe was kicked off after Ricardo Pacheco was caught soliciting bribes from the police union. Since then, Pacheco has ratted out a number of local government officials and administrators for participating in a cannabis bribery scheme, which sold cannabis licenses to the highest bidders.</p><p>Since the federal probe, Council Member Ricardo Pacheco; City Attorney, Robert Tafoya; Chief of Police, Michael Taylor; and City Clerk, Lourdes Morales have resigned.<br /></p><br />Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-37110012218210041222023-01-07T17:43:00.031-08:002023-01-07T19:34:05.035-08:002023 - Year of the Water Rabbit: Working Towards Peace<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WGbXvG52no-_gD6cuShsJI-iDZs7tU5D_Ouy_1QodfhB33ccsPvhJEHHNI9EuFVHO8SSoFCSoY-mToLRjKioDIB_P3PD6rIi2tT7e1pTrm87voBcl14Cr-ZEJ4MdpdXwPn6_yBlAgkgZSxKX-SKkbcMgIDX9QeurWh4hVq3jhpTuQDjKoANrDUnXPQ/s2000/water%20rabbit.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1351" data-original-width="2000" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WGbXvG52no-_gD6cuShsJI-iDZs7tU5D_Ouy_1QodfhB33ccsPvhJEHHNI9EuFVHO8SSoFCSoY-mToLRjKioDIB_P3PD6rIi2tT7e1pTrm87voBcl14Cr-ZEJ4MdpdXwPn6_yBlAgkgZSxKX-SKkbcMgIDX9QeurWh4hVq3jhpTuQDjKoANrDUnXPQ/s320/water%20rabbit.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(c) Japan Times<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>According to the Chinese calendar, last year was the Year of the Water Tiger. This is the Year of the Water Rabbit.<br /><p></p><p></p><p>Last
year, I wrote that "[T]igers cross water, because they're on the go. And I
think, this will be a year of uncertain transition for everyone." My words came true.<br /></p><p>Thank you for everyone who's believed in me and supported me in my life. Together, all of us have crossed over into the Promised Land. It's been a long and hard and gritty and painful journey. I want to remind us of history, because it's repeated.<br /></p><p>Approximately 3,300 years ago, God blocked the Israelites from entering the Promise Land, because they were too afraid of the future. The spies gave false reports to Moses of how the land was full of fortified cities and giants; so, that the people could instead stay in the wilderness and settle for living in known poverty. The people rejected the prospects of an unknown future and wealth; instead, they were content with fantasies of the past and the comforts of the predictable. </p><p>Only Joshua and Caleb believed that the Promise Land could be taken. In short - one tribe, and only one tribe - the Tribe of Judah - stood in opposition against 11 other families and knew the truth and wanted to act on it. </p><p>And what happened? Sadly, the Israelite community believed the lies and rejected God's promise to Israel. All of the
spies, except Joshua and Caleb, were struck down with a plague and died. Judah was spared and honored and blessed.<br /></p><p>I feel like history repeats itself. There's something to be said about knowing the truth, acting on that truth, and having faith that God will fight the battles we cannot. After all, it is written, "The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace." </p><p>He is the same God, a God that does not change. He is the God that organized the Israeli slaves, and through their leader Moses, against all odds, and with only a wooden staff, defeated Pharaoh and his evil kingdom.</p><p>Hence, 2023, will now be about building the foundations of a new city. <br /></p><p><u><b>The FBI Captures the City of Baldwin Park</b></u><br /></p><p>Another reason I haven't been blogging as much, is because Baldwin Park's corruption has finally become exposed. The federal government has finally intervened. And the City's ugliness and greed and evil is now seen by the people.<br /></p><p>The FBI captured a former council member, who in turn squealed on the rampant corruption, which was rotting this city and its people into destruction. The federal investigation has brought down other public officials from other cities and counties, as well as the city attorney here, and numerous administrators. It appears that the ring was primarily connected to corrupt, Hispanic-run cities.</p><p>(I predict next on the chopping blog will be Baldwin Park Council Woman, Monica Garcia and former Mayor Manuel Lozano.)</p><p>One person who has finally been brought down is the City Attorney, Robert Tafoya. Tafoya finally filed his resignation as city attorney in Baldwin Park and the West Valley Water District in November of 2022. We've been in conflict since March of 2014. That's almost 8 years.<br /></p><p>I don't want to rehash all the misconduct he engaged in, because it's behind me. But some misconduct included the firing of my friend who worked for the City to get back at me; forging my signature block in a case; and filing a number of temporary restraining orders against me, based on lies. My opponent reveled in lying and balking at any laws designed to hold government accountable.<br /></p><p>I won my share of battles against him and lost some too. Those losses upset me, especially because of the foul play employed to win. (And, I'd get so frustrated at the courts that they would permit so much illegal prolific and unrestrained misconduct.)<br /></p><p>I'm grateful, however, to Tafoya, because he gave me the gift of the enemy. Walter Wink, late theologian on confronting evil political systems, describes the gift like this: "The gift our enemy may be able to bring us: to see aspects of ourselves that we cannot discover any other way than through our enemies. Our friends seldom tell us these things; they are our friends precisely because they are able to overlook or ignore this part of us."</p><p><u><b>The City of Baldwin Park Proves the Evil of Our Governments.</b></u> <br /></p><p>So, in the end, my character was refined by Tafoya's schemes and still has a way to go. Probably a few years ago, I would have been overjoyed that he resigned because of an FBI investigation, but now, it tastes so bittersweet.<br /></p><p>I feel like I'm witnessing a tragedy, not a happy ending. Will the public get its money back to invest in future generations? Will the governance in the City change, or will they continue on their way to be corrupt? (Already, it appears like the latter.) Will people like Tafoya change? <br /></p><p>So now, I'm grieved. I'm grieved to see how the State's checks and balances have failed to prevent or stop this misconduct earlier. This goes all the way up to the State Bar, the appellate courts, the superior courts, and the State Controller's Office. If one City in California goes rogue, the way Baldwin Park did, how can it be brought back into line, when these agencies are not enforcing the rules against it? </p><p>Well; the State Controller could have done a better job in being more thorough with subpoenaing records and enforcing that subpoena. Although a number of citizens knew something was amiss, and we asked for records, the court in the end failed to enforce the public records act against the City. </p><p>Without court enforcement, the public records act doesn't work. That's it. It's just a bunch of nice words on paper. A public agency can withhold those records, because it knows giving them away, will cause them to be criminally prosecuted. </p><p>So; tell me. Why would they ever comply with such a rule without the enforcement of the courts?<br /></p><p>And sadly, the State Bar appears to not prosecute players who have money. The State Bar has been so egregious in over prosecuting black attorneys and under prosecuting corrupt players, which ultimately just promotes more corruption in our legal system. Again; it's tragic.<br /></p><p>The leadership in this State needs to change totally. Currently, people in power could have a history of financial problems and still be in positions of leadership. If people can't manage their own personal finances, they have no business managing the public's money. Hence, there needs to be checks and restrictions.<br /></p><p>And character and integrity have to start becoming traits that qualify one for leadership, and the lack of having them, likewise must disqualify one from holding such government positions.<br /></p><p><u><b>My Father Almost Died at ELIM Silvertown, Los Angeles; Nonetheless, Verdugo Hills Saved His Life.</b></u><br /></p><p></p><p>In April of this year, I saw my father dying in front of my eyes. He started shaking violently in front of me. He whispered, "Paul." His eyes were rolling the back of his head. He wasn't conscious.<br /></p><p>And immediately, in my mind's eye, a flurry of images and thoughts and voices came into my mind to lead me to the ultimate conclusion; <i>Dad's going to die!</i></p><p>I could feel my mind going sifting through thoughts and facts and ideas. <i>What's going on here? What's happening? Paul, you can do this. You can figure this out. </i></p><p><i>But how?</i> In front of me, was my dying father, and for the most part that was the only fact I had. I never attended medical school.<br /></p><p>Dad can't talk to me. Dad can't tell me what's going on, right now. I thought - <i>What is this?! What the Hell is going on here?!</i> <i>I don't know. I need to know.</i><br /></p><p><i>Everyone is telling me it's high blood sugars, but that doesn't make sense. The doctors in the emergency room can't even explain the biochemistry of what's going on here logically. Something is totally wrong!</i><br /></p><p>And still and peaceful voice inside said - <i>You know enough to figure this out.</i> Yes, but how?<br /></p><p>The race started in my mind. And Death spoke to me and said, "<i>Time is running out, Counselor. If you don't figure this out, your father dies."</i><i> </i></p><p>Flurry and flashes of facts, thoughts, research papers, and past memories started flooding into my mind's eye. There were a lot of dead ends and roadblocks in my thinking. And it came. The knowledge, as bright as light, came to me. I knew why my father was dying and what was actually going on.</p><p>I took my father out of Good Samaritan Hospital to the anger and shock and fury of the staff, even the chief officer, there. The Spirit of Death was in that room, and I could feel it. </p><p>And after taking him out, which felt more like a prison break, I drove him to his regular hospital in Glendale. According to sources, Good Samaritan reported me to authorities, even though I did the right thing. The nursing home he was staying at, ELIM Silvertown, tried to trick me into signing a waiver to not sue them. The whole affair was disgusting and egregious.<br /></p><p>The second hospital, Verdugo Hills, saved my father's life. From April even until now, I've been doing everything I could to rehabilitate my father. He's not fully 100%, but he's improved greatly, so much so, that I can say it's a miracle where he's at now and how far he's come.<br /></p><p>I beat Death again, at least for now. I don't know how many more times I can keep going up against him and winning. Not easy.<br /></p><p>The following Monday, I filed an elder abuse report with an agency and life changed forever. <br /></p><p><u><b>Conflict at the Boxing Gym; Hope Springs Eternal</b></u></p><p>Well, in November of this year, a professional boxer at the gym punched me. He denied it. And in my absence, and without being able to tell my side of the story, a number of people believed in the lie. It sent the gym into mass conflict and turmoil. </p><p>It reminded me of what Winston Churchill once said. "A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on."<br /></p><p>For me - it felt like a clash of two kingdoms. And in general, isn't this the historic battle of every city? It's the conflict between Babylon and Jerusalem or Rome (the new Babylon) and Jerusalem. I feel like they're are two forces that are always fighting for the hearts of men and women in the City. And although everyone has the same universal needs, these forces offer very different promises for the people.<br /></p><p>The Book of Proverbs (also known as the Book of Wisdom), tells us that Lady Foolishness and Lady Wisdom walk through the city streets. Both look for people into the City to invite into their homes to eat and drink. One offers wisdom. The other offers to meet your deepest and darkest desires. Stolen food and water are sweeter - Lady Foolishness says.<br /></p><p>Returning to the punch-story. Well, the good news was that there was no permanent damage from the punch. And
as many of my wise advisors have told me - that's the most important
thing. </p><p>More conflict ensued during the twilight days leading to New Years Day. And I realized that my pursuit of justice was also deeply and sadly affecting all the members of the community. I've tried to make peace, and I think it's been reciprocated. </p><p>So, we're all trying to move towards peace, hopefully. And regarding this boxer, I realize some of the mistakes I made, and I can still see good in him. So, I'm very hopeful.<br /></p><p><u><b>Thoughts for Next Year: Strive to Make Peace.<br /></b></u></p><p></p><p>The New Year brought me one Bible verse that hit home. It says, "The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace.” (Exodus 14:14, NKJV). For me, I've proven my points and had my victories in the past. Thus, this is the year to work towards peace<br /></p><p>I end by saying, this is the Year of the Water Rabbit. I don't know much about rabbits or hares, though when I run in the hills I see plenty of them. They signify peace for certain. Are they in conflict with other animals? No. </p><p>They're also fluffy and cute and happy. They're also very adaptable and prolific. They're fast and quick and can adapt to new environments. So; I think that's what we need to move towards - peace and adaptability and fast flow.</p><p>Happy New Year. Out with the old, and in with the new. I welcome the Year of 2023 - the Year of the Water Rabbit.</p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-43882075631074974732022-12-26T13:09:00.003-08:002022-12-26T13:09:46.046-08:00Merry Christmas!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKnEWiojuuvghEmDLPl-gZevodTNfgPF7D6QRz6N0qrkWsHH8b4RysxJjX9WWE5VhoKBQvHI5Ar5mm6hifYl55fyN3rwiXJbGu5dwaLl-4fE06AWuixdP1DhI4wG8LPuFiztUUg6PuOFgFxaj6S3Jf1bDoHbL1218lNVt_WyTCQ-htcrsNXlAjW6vAQ/s1024/MerryXmas-1024x596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="1024" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKnEWiojuuvghEmDLPl-gZevodTNfgPF7D6QRz6N0qrkWsHH8b4RysxJjX9WWE5VhoKBQvHI5Ar5mm6hifYl55fyN3rwiXJbGu5dwaLl-4fE06AWuixdP1DhI4wG8LPuFiztUUg6PuOFgFxaj6S3Jf1bDoHbL1218lNVt_WyTCQ-htcrsNXlAjW6vAQ/s320/MerryXmas-1024x596.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas this year. I had a quiet Christmas with my immediate family, and it was peaceful and heart warming. I worked on Christmas Eve, and working on Christmas Eve didn't bother me as much as the work itself. The legal work, I have to say, wasn't very interesting. We're doing well in my family.<p></p><p> </p><p>I wished a number of people a more heartfelt Merry Christmas by quoting from John 3:16. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." I mean the reason we have Christmas is because of Christ's birth, right? </p><p>So, remember; Jesus loves you, and through the power of the cross, you can have a new life. Merry Christmas to everyone!<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-33750488566966546472022-12-17T16:06:00.011-08:002022-12-22T21:28:24.644-08:00Manny Carrillo - Baldwin Park's Director of Parks and Recreation - Permits Accused Pedophile to Target Teenage Boys at the Boxing Gym<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RxnQWUFsZ1HeOVaHoONL_wIQj9bH4liUi_ufjtV83KHrt3eOjE_qNBnf3zxZ59VFFec--fIApCaVEDsvKlFfrPxvJj8iJcRiDacjjH6kF4ps7YcP3beoNEOdsemiIBapsig3UNz3K1WaI4Tx_0AiLp465-4H-J6U94J1wdJ5wQ25cJr5TTojLiMsgg/s985/MCarrillo_Full_738.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="985" data-original-width="738" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RxnQWUFsZ1HeOVaHoONL_wIQj9bH4liUi_ufjtV83KHrt3eOjE_qNBnf3zxZ59VFFec--fIApCaVEDsvKlFfrPxvJj8iJcRiDacjjH6kF4ps7YcP3beoNEOdsemiIBapsig3UNz3K1WaI4Tx_0AiLp465-4H-J6U94J1wdJ5wQ25cJr5TTojLiMsgg/s320/MCarrillo_Full_738.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manny Carrillo</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">Manny Carrillo, Director of Parks and Recreation, permits pedophile to groom children at the Baldwin Park Boxing Gym, despite warnings. A victim of the pedophile told me how when she was seven to ten, the pedophile sexually assaulted her. Despite repeated warnings, on Dec. 15, 2022 - Carrillo permitted the pedophile to groom one of the minors at the boxing gym when the coaches were not looking. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">The accused pedophile ("pedophile") began his grooming activities several years ago. According to sources, he used to allegedly give the head boxing coach cash money years ago, when the current head boxing coach was low on cash and without a full time job. This then bought a relationship with the head boxing coach that would pay off now. It's customary in the City of Baldwin Park for city officials and employees to accept bribes.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Several months ago, the pedophile actively began talking to the head boxing coach for at least an hour - on the city's time on two separate occasions. The boxing coach should have been attending to the gym but neglected his duties at this time; instead, he was chatting with the pedophile.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Then, several days later, the pedophile purchased a gym membership. And with that, he started slowly leaving the gym area and creeping his way into the boxing area. I saw his pupils dilated, and he looked excited, as he started having new interaction with teenage boys. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I told Carrillo there was enough probable cause to run a live scan on the pedophile to confirm his criminal history.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Instead of investigating the situation, Carrillo made a policy that minors under the age of 12 needed to evacuate the pedophiles space, when he came. A mother told me how upset she was, because this was the only time her child could come to the gym. Carrillo, thus, punished innocent children and parents to give the pedophile his preferences.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A competent director would have investigated. I told Carrillo this was not the correct solution and that an investigation needed to take place and that a live scan needed to be ran. Of course, Carrillo would rather give the pedophile his way and not do the commonsense thing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">I asked Carrillo what the written policy was for gym regarding convicted pedophiles. No response. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">So on Dec. 15, 2022 - the pedophile came in around 6:30PM. He pretends to just use the gym area. But as soon as the coaches were not looking, he approached a teenage boy and started showing him what a great boxing coach the pedophile was. After I looked, the pedophile smiled at me (like he got away with a crime) and left. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">According to criminal expert, James Gilligan, pedophiles need lifetime monitoring and treatment. Once the court orders treatment to stop - re-offense is inevitable.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">This isn't a surprise. I've written up how Manny Carrillo is a<a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-parks-and-recs-director-is-really.html"> money launderer </a>and a <a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/2/blog/post/edit/3411905138826129887/3375048856696654647">child abuser</a>. More can be read about Carrillo's corruption <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/p/government-corruption.html">here</a>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Currently, the Department of Justice is investigating the City of Baldwin Park. It's very sad that I have to make this a public matter, but it's clear that the City is not doing enough to protect the children and citizens of this gym. Reform is required.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">*The reference to pedophile is to "accused pedophile". A live scan needs to confirm the suspect's actual criminal history.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">[Update: I saw Carrillo confronting the offender for an hour in a room. Although he hasn't been banned yet from the area, it appears the message was told to the accused pedophile that he wasn't permitted to be around children. (I later thanked Carrillo for taking my concerns about this matter seriously.)<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">After the confrontation, at night, in the parking lot, the accused was waiting for me ten feet from my car. He started screaming at me that I needed to watch my back. He also screamed how I could even think of attempting to reporting him to the FBI for kidnapping his son. I began recording him with my cell phone. And he screamed his name and said he had equal rights as me.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">An anonymous caller called the police on my behalf. Whoever that was, thank you. It made me feel safer.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">I have filed a police report against the offender regarding the criminal threats, which will be submitted to the district attorney's office.] <br /></div>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-76498800870188945592022-09-25T03:41:00.005-07:002022-09-27T01:34:52.668-07:00On Being as Wise as a Serpent, Innocent as a Dove<p> </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7o2u-laRXURxSbtCgjbJNqGvmntHimgTx6w3BfTn_RJRPkjHwJGU7jsI-R6PvZEWg_HIuE3U8Jgrfq16-wpLf7X2GJNrYb-8Q_pIG5q3qvSIc0OIkQgCBxPWlOZOV2gZ_Li-T1BTK8kUPDDRjtqGeSzXw1e_N2tx5hMBa3QOcVYcGzLvhjbmvtVPq7A/s612/istockphoto-474502156-612x612.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="612" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7o2u-laRXURxSbtCgjbJNqGvmntHimgTx6w3BfTn_RJRPkjHwJGU7jsI-R6PvZEWg_HIuE3U8Jgrfq16-wpLf7X2GJNrYb-8Q_pIG5q3qvSIc0OIkQgCBxPWlOZOV2gZ_Li-T1BTK8kUPDDRjtqGeSzXw1e_N2tx5hMBa3QOcVYcGzLvhjbmvtVPq7A/s320/istockphoto-474502156-612x612.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="FCABze">White Dove / Getty Images</span><div class="gH03Me"><span class="Aml7Pd">Copyright: martinmystere</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>People have asked me how I figure problems out. So, I want to write on an overlooked command: Practice innocence. (This piece draws from the Bible and my understanding of God; so, if that's not your cup of tea, you can stop reading here.)<p></p><p>When I was a child, my uncle told me this verse. I clearly didn't understand the importance of it, until recently. Matthew 10:14-16 states, “Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves." (ESV). </p><p>Perhaps in every civilization that I know of, people are interested in attaining wisdom. The story that comes to mind is of the Norse mythology of Odin - the Chief of all gods. When his kingdom is rotting and in decline, he realizes that he doesn't have enough wisdom to solve the problems destroying and perplexing him and his empire.<br /></p><p>So, he visits a pool of water called Mimir's Well. The water spirits promise him wisdom, if he rips his eye out and throws it into the pool. Odin agrees. It's a trade required and the price has to be paid. He gouges out his eye and sacrifices to the spirits of Mimir. Odin drinks from the water and obtains the precious wisdom he seeks out. (Too bad for him, it doesn't prevent his daughter from destroying his kingdom, in the apocalyptic event called Ragnarok, when she burns down Valhalla.) </p><p>I want to highlight two points in this story. Obviously, the Norse are valuing wisdom by esteeming Odin's sacrifice. They believed that Odin did the right thing to sacrifice his eye. The Norse are also stressing that one should not hesitate to sacrifice something valuable in pursuit of wisdom. Two, Odin had to lose his external sight to gain insight.</p><p>The Jewish people place equal value on the obtaining of wisdom. Solomon tells us in his Proverbs - "Wisdom is worth more than silver; it brings more profit than gold. Wisdom is more precious than rubies; nothing you could want is equal to it. With her right hand wisdom offers you a long life, and with her left hand she gives you riches and honor." (Pro. 3:14-16). </p><p>So important was wisdom, that the Queen of Sheeba took the grueling trek with her wealth to visit King Solomon to ask the questions confounding her. The Scripture says that "When the queen of Sheba saw all the wisdom of Solomon and the palace he had built, the food on his table, the seating of his officials, the attending servants in their robes, his cupbearers, and the burnt offerings he made at the temple of the Lord, she was overwhelmed." (1 Kings 10:5-6).<br /></p><p>So - why am I telling you this pagan Norse myth, and adding in Proverbs, and Solomon, when explicating how to be as wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove? Because, seeking knowledge and wisdom, as far as I've studied, has been universally declared as necessary and a noble quest for all those who seek it. And, I don't think I need to stress to my readers or others that seeking wisdom is necessary in order to accomplish the mission in front of you. It's important for the pagans, the gentiles, the Jewish, the Christians, and all other peoples.<br /></p><p>It's the second part of Jesus' words that needs emphasis. But be "innocent as doves." </p><p>As far as I've studied, only the Christian god adds that in fighting off evil, who are symbolized as wolves, you also need to be innocent. It's only the Christian god that makes clear - wisdom alone is not sufficient.<br /></p><p>The more experience I gain, I realize it's only half the battle to have the wisdom of a snake, and to strike and bite with venom - a venom that can destroy. In other words, it's not really praiseworthy to behave this way.<br /></p><p>The reason is because executing the serpent's strike limits a person and makes her no better than the enemy. Remember; snakes are limited in their sight. And becoming like a snake will also limit one's sight. Snakes are almost blind, and although they have an extraordinary sense of the environment through other receptors, they still lack external vision.</p><p>Nietzsche sums the risk best, when he said, "Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." <br /></p><p>So; how does a trait like innocence, enhance sight and wisdom? I can imagine Odin, the chief and warrior king of the gods, scoffing at such an illogical, and seemingly passive concept. </p><p>But Jesus states it so clearly in his beatitudes, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." (Matthew 5:8). </p><p>I think we shouldn't miss the point. Seeing as God sees is powerful. Seeing like God, will also give you divine insight to accurately behold the problem as God sees it. And as a natural consequence, a God-like solution should also follow. So, being innocent is more valuable than it appears on the surface. (That's not to say, I haven't fallen into the temptation of retaliation too.)<br /></p><p>From experience, I tell you this. One of the challenges in practicing purity, is that when you understand the way of the evil enemy, the temptation materializes in front of you to use his or her venomous tactics that you've just learned or learned previously. The temptation is now always there. Perhaps - that's why it was better that Adam and Eve never ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, because once you learn of that evil - it's with you forever.<br /></p><p>Self-control is absolutely necessary. To give into this temptation, and return evil for evil, will make one like the enemy - and create the same blind spot that snakes indeed have. This will handicap the strategist and ultimately limit one from achieving the quest at hand.<br /></p><p>How does one obtain innocents? It's two steps. </p><p>The first one is to admit you and I cannot do it alone. The source of goodness, wisdom, and purity has to fill and guide one. For this reason King David wrote in the Psalms - "Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me." (Psalms 51).</p><p>The second step is given in the New Testament with a letter Apostle Paul wrote. He said - "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." (Gal. 5:22-23).</p><p>As the late minister Derek Prince points out in his one of his talks, trees need to be cultivated for good fruit to be produced. Cultivation requires work, such as tilling, fertilizing, pruning, watering, nurturing, patience, and waiting for the season of harvest. It takes work, sometimes a lot of work.<br /></p><p>Hopefully, this helps. It's an article long overdue.<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-15833758132953126892022-09-18T07:46:00.001-07:002022-09-18T07:46:07.984-07:00LA Times Reports on How Baldwin Park Council Members Solicited $250,000 Cash in Paper Bags; Reform Required to Put Corruption in Check.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfs6RzvVI6m9Evw98rVo5XHRER-y5J3flW1wnlUO6UzE3is2kAffSKlU0o2Nnl_C8rcJ0z2JjqRC-9SGg3IeI24-fEEjpJYkJqMqXfhBWQWBDTvtD6knwrTV__-k5OxDYy8YZbkhtnAqOVY4F2OuZMC0QYNZ3NGad4ZNWUHO9CrC7k3UByo4lzbJejBQ/s499/bp2-e1458596268391.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="470" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfs6RzvVI6m9Evw98rVo5XHRER-y5J3flW1wnlUO6UzE3is2kAffSKlU0o2Nnl_C8rcJ0z2JjqRC-9SGg3IeI24-fEEjpJYkJqMqXfhBWQWBDTvtD6knwrTV__-k5OxDYy8YZbkhtnAqOVY4F2OuZMC0QYNZ3NGad4ZNWUHO9CrC7k3UByo4lzbJejBQ/s320/bp2-e1458596268391.jpg" width="301" /></a>The<a href="https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2022-09-15/cannabis-corruption-threats-secret-financial-deals-politicians"> LA Times reported </a>on how Baldwin Park city officials asked for $250,000 in cash bribes to be put in paper bags to approve marijuana licenses. Regarding Baldwin Park, here's what the Times says:</p><p>Baldwin Park leaders saw cannabis as a financial boon for their struggling community in the heart of the San Gabriel Valley.</p><p>But from the start, pot licensing stirred allegations of corruption.</p><p>One
of the licenses approved by Baldwin Park gave the exclusive right to
distribute cannabis in the city to a local business, Rukli Inc. The city
required other licensed weed businesses to use Rukli as their sole
distributor. The arrangement prompted another cannabis business to file a
lawsuit accusing Rukli of engaging in a conspiracy to secure an illegal
monopoly and racketeering, including bribery and kickbacks. Rukli
denied wrongdoing. The lawsuit was eventually dropped after Rukli pulled
out of its exclusive deal.</p><p>Before the end of Rukli’s exclusive
arrangement, a Baldwin Park police lieutenant visited the firm’s
distribution center to make sure it was complying with the city’s
requirements for securing the property. Lt. Chris Kuberry told The Times
one of the firm’s partners mentioned paying $250,000 in cash to city
officials.</p><p>Kuberry said that the comment was “certainly
suspicious” and that he had heard the FBI was investigating possible
corruption in the city. But he didn’t inquire further, file a report or
contact the FBI. He said his department of about 50 officers was rife
with complaints of retaliation and he feared for his job if he raised
any questions.</p><p> “To be honest, [it was] out of self-preservation,” said Kuberry, who retired shortly after. </p><p>In a lawsuit the city brought against its former police chief,
Kuberry said in a sworn declaration that pot operators complained to him
about “questionable business practices which included paying as much as
$250,000 cash in a brown paper bag to city officials.” His declaration
did not name the firms or their owners, but Kuberry told The Times he
was referring to Rukli.</p><p>Scott Russo, an attorney for one of
Rukli’s partners at the time, said the company never paid a bribe. He
declined to comment on whether any city officials solicited bribes,
citing an ongoing federal investigation.</p><p>“There’s a process [the FBI] would appreciate I respect,” he said. </p><p>A
source who is cooperating with the FBI told The Times he was present
when Ricardo Pacheco, then a member of the Baldwin Park City Council,
asked that Rukli pay him $250,000 in cash to ensure the city would
approve a license for the firm. . . . [And you can read the rest on the Times].</p><p>The Times argues that legalizing marijuana "unleashed corruption in California." I don't know if it unleashed corruption as it just ramped up what was already there.</p><p>50% of California cities declined to open their cities up for marijuana businesses. An analysis should be done as to the demographics and average income of residents as to which cities engaged with marijuana and which ones didn't.</p><p>Also, if you haven't noticed, corruption appears rife in Californian government. Not only does the Times article point to a number of politicians that solicited bribes for cannabis licenses, but the Times just <a href="https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2022-09-15/former-usc-dean-flynn-to-plead-guilty-mark-ridley-thomas-bribery">reported on a pay-to-play scheme</a> with a USC Dean and a current LA City Council Member.</p><p>The question is, how come are checks and balances are not working? Why is that only the federal government, and not the Sheriff, or other local law enforcement agencies pop these cities? </p><p>Long time readers of my blog will know that I've often had to take Baldwin Park to court for open records. But the City then lies to the court and says - "We gave out everything." Or, "We don't have anymore records." And then the judge just believes them. In short - the public records act doesn't work. If it did, would our residents and citizens be cheated this much by our politicians?</p><p>As I've been saying over and over again, our law needs reform, so that it's easier for citizen journalists to investigate and hold accountable these politicians. Are current checks and balances are failing.<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-161998503989755512022-08-13T15:23:00.010-07:002022-08-15T21:05:55.301-07:00Baldwin Park City Council Wants Tax Hike to Pay for Their Salaries, Which is 400% of Other Cities.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs98V1CuNoSGXxk4X-KM_MOBnqr5Az-TpgY-SbBoq-zwSD2cwSjPD1cXX3qNhqeNYgiTr-ngOlfpDnlzh5nPaJTJyWGPl1ebSRxcGFnh-t_AxfyWfeEMwYfmyNG5I_LOR1QdK6LfYeJITyCH6GF39v1N9Zj0wk6CIsDx_a58WJ25qJ1F4vOl7rEUsWFQ/s512/a-bunch-of-rich-leaders-just-stole-aid-money-from-hero.jpg__1600x900_q85_crop_subsampling-2.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="512" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs98V1CuNoSGXxk4X-KM_MOBnqr5Az-TpgY-SbBoq-zwSD2cwSjPD1cXX3qNhqeNYgiTr-ngOlfpDnlzh5nPaJTJyWGPl1ebSRxcGFnh-t_AxfyWfeEMwYfmyNG5I_LOR1QdK6LfYeJITyCH6GF39v1N9Zj0wk6CIsDx_a58WJ25qJ1F4vOl7rEUsWFQ/w400-h264/a-bunch-of-rich-leaders-just-stole-aid-money-from-hero.jpg__1600x900_q85_crop_subsampling-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A. Alejandra, D. Damian, M. Garcia, P. Hernandez (from left to right) <br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Baldwin Park City Council wants to raise its sales tax from 9.5% to 10.25%, hoping to bring in another $6 million in revenue, at a time when gas and food prices are skyrocketing with its proposed Measure Baldwin Park. Clearly, the City Council and Administrators want to take more of our money to keep up their outrageous salaries and continue with their corruption.<br /><p></p><p>For instance, the City Council and Mayor make $41,295.37. That's for 2 meetings a month. Imagine making $3,441 for working four hours a month! In Alhambra, the City Council makes $11,000.30. The per capita income in Alhambra is $32,589. </p><p>So the people in Baldwin Park make 37% less than Alhambra, and the City Council make 400% more. In short, this is what you call corruption.</p><p>Let's look at the following table for 2020 salary comparisons of Baldwin Park and Alhambra.</p><p>
</p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 430px;">
<colgroup><col style="mso-width-alt: 12416; mso-width-source: userset; width: 291pt;" width="291"></col>
<col style="mso-width-alt: 3029; mso-width-source: userset; width: 71pt;" width="71"></col>
<col style="mso-width-alt: 2901; mso-width-source: userset; width: 68pt;" width="68"></col>
</colgroup><tbody><tr height="15" style="height: 15pt;">
<td height="15" style="height: 15pt; width: 291pt;" width="291"><br /></td>
<td style="width: 71pt;" width="71">Baldwin Park</td>
<td style="width: 68pt;" width="68">Alhambra</td>
</tr>
<tr height="15" style="height: 15pt;">
<td height="15" style="height: 15pt;">City Council and Mayor</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$41,295.37</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$11,000.30</td>
</tr>
<tr height="15" style="height: 15pt;">
<td height="15" style="height: 15pt;">City Manager (Shannon Yauchzee)</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$443,459.30</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$365,532.35</td>
</tr>
<tr height="15" style="height: 15pt;">
<td height="15" style="height: 15pt;">Finance Director (Hong Fang aka Rose Tam
aka Hong Tam)</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$321,361.90</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$237,871.99</td>
</tr>
<tr height="15" style="height: 15pt;">
<td height="15" style="height: 15pt;">Parks and Recreation Director (Manny
Carrillo)</td>
<td align="right" class="xl64" style="width: 71pt;" width="71">$286,143.24</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$211,926.42</td>
</tr>
<tr height="15" style="height: 15pt;">
<td height="15" style="height: 15pt;">Chief of Police (Robert Lopez)</td>
<td align="right" class="xl63">$267,597.90</td>
<td align="right" class="xl64" style="width: 68pt;" width="68">$378,817.73</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table><p>Besides the Chief of Police, everyone should be seeing a pattern that Baldwin Park pays outrageous and corrupt salaries to its City Council and administrators. I want to repeat: Why does the Mayor and City Council get paid $1,600 to attend one meeting? They attend two meetings a month, which makes their salaries come out to $41,295.</p><p> The City Council has been putting out propaganda, stating that the tax increase is to beautify the City. But this is far from the truth. The $6 million will be co-mingled with the general fund, which will be used to pay the outrageous salaries of the council and administrators, which right now cannot be sustained. Don't forget that these salaries will be paid out for the lifetime of these people through their pensions.<br /></p><p>Also, the City has been engaged a number of lawsuits, because of the corrupt acts that it's been engaged in. This has ranged from unlawful firing of staff to withholding public records. The legal fees have been astronomical, especially for its City Attorney, Robert Tafoya, who is currently being investigated by the FBI. The City Council refuses to fire him, even though he's been a cause of a number of these lawsuits.</p><p>But take for instance Lili Hadsell's lawsuit, in which a judgment of over $9 million was levied against the City. Once again, this was the corrupt decision of previous council members; City Attorney, Robert Tafoya; and the former Chief of Police - Michael Taylor.<br /></p><p>The current Chief of Police, Robert Lopez, overspent an estimated $1 million. He ordered 15 patrol cars, when there's only 5 patrol officers at a time. Who was enriched by this money?<br /></p><p>On top of all this, because of the corrupt practices of the Council and administrators, 5,000 people have left, decreasing the revenue stream of the City.</p><p>The solution to fix Baldwin Park's problem is transparency, the cutting of these outrageous salaries and pensions, and honest and fair conduct practices that stop causing lawsuits. Instead, the City Council lies to us. For example, they say that if they don't raise the tax, LA County will. I investigated with a number of Californian tax agencies and LA County. This isn't true.</p><p>I'm proposing that the City may even have to file bankruptcy to mitigate it's unsustainable pension liabilities. <br /></p><p>Sadly - we have greedy and incompetent people in power in Baldwin Park. We're already suffering enough with rising gas and food prices. The last thing we need is to lose money to these people; so that they live the high life of working 4 hours a month, off our hard work. So vote "NO!" on Measure Baldwin Park at the ballot to the raising of the sales tax. And tell the City Council and administrator that the corruption has to stop.</p><p><style>table
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white-space:normal;</style></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-38987320702520931812022-07-25T14:45:00.036-07:002022-08-03T20:38:26.130-07:00Former Baldwin Park Police Chief, Michael Taylor, Resigns Only After Five Months in Public Office<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdwAX3gUKihPf781ZnHwtD78KAqDgoTNZizqVOC8gzUKztaQ8t2x9H5nvgH6zFtFYIdqSQG2nLPcXyciCvEFNtGDiZ_Rt_u40yaoNO3-fu7OQmUuBQsEAupXuvsWB7cn8MYKYymoBn9kSLrw85Wg4DciKp98B4UzFQ3fm6qwu4M6WEC-8VdYmWoW_b3g/s1600/IMG_LA-3030377_la-me-bal_2_1_54312NL5.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1182" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdwAX3gUKihPf781ZnHwtD78KAqDgoTNZizqVOC8gzUKztaQ8t2x9H5nvgH6zFtFYIdqSQG2nLPcXyciCvEFNtGDiZ_Rt_u40yaoNO3-fu7OQmUuBQsEAupXuvsWB7cn8MYKYymoBn9kSLrw85Wg4DciKp98B4UzFQ3fm6qwu4M6WEC-8VdYmWoW_b3g/s320/IMG_LA-3030377_la-me-bal_2_1_54312NL5.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disgraced Police Chief - Michael Taylor<br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>On May 28, 2022 - former Baldwin Park Police Chief, Michael Taylor, resigned as a board member of West Valley Water District, only five months into his new term of being reelected. In November of 2021, another board member, Kyle Crowther also suddenly resigned. On May 19, 2022 - <span>Shamindra “Rickey” Manbahal, also resigned as district general manager. The sudden resignations follows the same pattern as the City of Bell - where the council members and administrators resigned after the <a href="https://www.latimes.com/local/bell/la-me-bell-scandal-a-times-investigation-20160211-storygallery.html">LA Times</a> exposed how public servants were stealing millions of dollars of taxpayer money. Those close to Taylor have stated that Taylor has not been seen in months following his resignation. I suspect that Taylor's entered a plea deal with the FBI, which required him to resign from public office. The Department of Justice said it would not comment on whether this is true.</span><span> </span></p><p><span>Taylor has sold his home in Rancho Cucamonga. Sources state he now Rogers, Arkansas. The potential street address is 1122 W Cypress St. </span></p><p><span>Michael Taylor's been a controversial and corrupt figure in the City of Baldwin Park. Taylor was problematic even as a captain, and several times former Chief, Lili Hadsell had attempted to fire him.</span></p><p><span>While as Captain, former employees stated that Taylor would work </span>20 hours a week, while earning about
$250,000 a year. Taylor often went home early to drink at bars and would show up drunk the next day. Taylor was known to be a notorious alcoholic.<br /></p><p>Nonetheless, after new council was elected, Taylor plotted to overthrow Lili Hadsell as chief. Taylor succeeded by scheming with Pacheco. Hadsell was fired. The new council appointed him as the new police chief. Council Member Pacheco and Chief Taylor developed a close working relationship, in working together to take as many bribes and taxpayer money as possible by abusing their government authority. <br /></p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HJVqhQTwnuOvF7zeKmCBwJRyOqap4jojfeZIVh4ZXdwrzpAqdwB3O7thbJg8QSM8MU7YBqIxMD3SF0MYGrznrIQ1Eu4Iul9wIzzBzi8WHc8P0plrcyqR_jONKVHT5XKJy6uU6DlYsZO4n6iUls3fumNcVDmNDO7z8CR6wLBTXqsUBydMHVuacAf69g/s360/Kyle_mike.webp" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="360" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0HJVqhQTwnuOvF7zeKmCBwJRyOqap4jojfeZIVh4ZXdwrzpAqdwB3O7thbJg8QSM8MU7YBqIxMD3SF0MYGrznrIQ1Eu4Iul9wIzzBzi8WHc8P0plrcyqR_jONKVHT5XKJy6uU6DlYsZO4n6iUls3fumNcVDmNDO7z8CR6wLBTXqsUBydMHVuacAf69g/s320/Kyle_mike.webp" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle Crowther, potential son of Taylor<br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Taylor's most notable scandal was <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2017/12/did-chief-of-police-michael-taylor.html">accepting kickbacks for approving marijuana license in Baldwin Park</a>. Imagine a police chief funding his own public office with drug money. After Taylor received this drug money, he laundered that money through a political action committee (PAC), which funded his campaign for a board seat in the West Valley Water District. This was known as <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2017/12/taylorgate-did-chief-of-police-take.html">TaylorGate</a>. </p><p></p><p>On September 21, 2016 - the Council <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2016/09/baldwin-park-chief-of-police-michael.html">fired Taylor</a> without cause. as police chief. Mayor Lozano informally commented that Taylor wasn't pro-Mexican enough. </p><p>After winning his board seat, Taylor needed to put in corrupt people that would enable the stealing of public water agency funds. So Taylor fired the human resources manager, finance director, and general counsel, <a href="https://www.sgvtribune.com/2017/12/13/shake-up-at-rialto-based-water-district-leads-to-firing-suspensions-amid-misconduct-allegations/">shattering the lives</a> of those who formerly held those positions. And instead, he put in his own finance director; human resource manager; Robert Tafoya (Baldwin Park's City Attorney); and Ricardo Pacheco (Baldwin Park's Council Member).</p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHg_XV0ZxQq8-b-y_I2ZKuSHnkZEZoFAY-E3dqJp3TaluoJILG8FxVDt4CNBAE711FDhtS24g5QnUzxrOyj-pdaYvDzAz06_P66Ns7BlcSkoOll0Q777e5YvjoD4H1zNge7ztjLyp9fr-xHF6_d6WSpFJrbz4nuz_tDm5Ul35stB-fvKWEnEyW5BE6w/s768/0519_nws_tdb-l-rickey-0519.webp" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="768" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHg_XV0ZxQq8-b-y_I2ZKuSHnkZEZoFAY-E3dqJp3TaluoJILG8FxVDt4CNBAE711FDhtS24g5QnUzxrOyj-pdaYvDzAz06_P66Ns7BlcSkoOll0Q777e5YvjoD4H1zNge7ztjLyp9fr-xHF6_d6WSpFJrbz4nuz_tDm5Ul35stB-fvKWEnEyW5BE6w/s320/0519_nws_tdb-l-rickey-0519.webp" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shamindra “Rickey” Manbahal</td></tr></tbody></table>A year later, around December 15, 2017 - Pacheco needed to rehire Taylor as chief. Taylor requested Tafoya draft him an employee contract that stated that as chief of police, he could only be fired if Taylor committed a felony. It appears Pacheco needed Taylor to be in charge of cannabis licensing, so that the cash kickbacks could keep coming. Taylor, in return,was chief again, this time with a bullet proof contract and an even more extraordinary pay.<br /><p></p><p>During Taylor's tenure at West Valley and Baldwin Park - a number of corruption cases began to surface. For instance, the new <a href="https://www.sbsun.com/2021/07/15/former-west-valley-water-district-hr-director-pleads-no-contest-to-felony-tax-evasion/">HR Director and her wife pleads guilty to felony tax evasion</a>. Th<a href="https://www.sbsun.com/2020/06/11/audit-slams-rialto-water-district-over-no-bid-contracts-excessive-spending-hiring-practices/">e State Controller's audit</a> finds rampant corruption in West Valley - for example contractors were overcharging the district (presumably also giving kickbacks with that overcharge), and public officials and administrators were buying hotels, cigars, and steak dinners of a public credit card. West Valley's former manager <br /></p><p>The General Manager Taylor hired, <a href="https://worldnationnews.com/another-controversial-west-valley-water-district-figure-is-gm-resigns-as/">Manbahal, admitted to stealing money from the City of Hawthorne</a>. He gave himself a $25,000 secret "loan" (which he presumably didn't have to pay back), and kept cooking the books for the City Council. (Rose Tam, the finance director of Baldwin Park, appears to be doing the same in the City.)</p><p>And although the years of stealing public funds went on, the beginning of the end finally came for the disgraced police chief, when a sting was set up for Council Member Ricardo Pacheco. <a href="https://www.justice.gov/usao-cdca/pr/former-member-baldwin-park-city-council-pleads-guilty-bribery-and-admits-receiving">Pacheco requested $37,900</a> in cash to be put in brown paper bags. An informant marked the cash. And feds busted Pacheco. Pacheco agreed to be an informant. Pacheco also agreed to plead guilty to corruption charges. As part of the condition of pleading guilty, Pacheco had to resign from public office. Pacheco's been snitching on Taylor, ever since.<br /></p><p>Taylor's sudden resignation from public office follows the same pattern as Pacheco's, indicating that he may have already pled guilty in exchange for a more lenient sentence.</p><p>Personally, Taylor is one of the most evil persons I've ever met. Recent sources have confirmed that it was Taylor, who fired the former head boxing coach, who complained that it was wrong to give him a<a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2016/05/on-firing-of-head-boxing-coach-two-year.html"> forty cent an hour </a>raise after 20 years. (Contrast that with all the money Taylor's been stealing.) Allegedly, Taylor also ordered the <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2014/07/baldwin-park-police-arrest-and-jail-me.html">officers to arrest and strip search me</a> for booing a public official. Then, when that didn't work, Taylor allegedly ordered Tafoya to file a restraining order against me, which also failed. Also, Taylor has been <a href="http://alchemistcook.blogspot.com/2015/10/was-michael-taylor-chief-of-police.html">accused of pedophilia</a>.</p><p>Taylor's arrest makes the corruption scheme clearer. For years, activists and citizens believed that Tafoya was the
mastermind behind all the outrageous corruption in Baldwin Park and West Valley.
Only recently has one source told the Legal Lens that it was actually
Michael Taylor who was teaching everyone how to steal as much as
possible and get away with it. (Well, at least Taylor thought he could
get away with it.)</p><p>8 years later, since Taylor started his looting of public funds, he's finally been popped. Martin Luther King Jr. was right - "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Sometimes, it's very long.</p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMxUtrDNg2NUS7HpJCjOtBilRGJTXJxsmFxIVs63Xw05JXSJQZAiNDBhn_iwBUyqKqfkKD3_LLPyXTaiKJWAn_U4xkr30CXVgVClsL_TbVyI-Kn7UKDT59ckKfxcQ6u5Rl2oYp8eQZ0Wr6Iaq_KaRVk2sU06DS1qEN4vBZXeeea4tctj5eCWSY6IaXQ/s374/Michael%20Taylor%20mugshot.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="374" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMxUtrDNg2NUS7HpJCjOtBilRGJTXJxsmFxIVs63Xw05JXSJQZAiNDBhn_iwBUyqKqfkKD3_LLPyXTaiKJWAn_U4xkr30CXVgVClsL_TbVyI-Kn7UKDT59ckKfxcQ6u5Rl2oYp8eQZ0Wr6Iaq_KaRVk2sU06DS1qEN4vBZXeeea4tctj5eCWSY6IaXQ/s320/Michael%20Taylor%20mugshot.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Real Michael Taylor<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-22877396294607256982022-06-21T23:29:00.028-07:002022-06-21T23:55:32.663-07:00Celebrating Jubilee - Reconciliation First.<p> </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEfRfkArfad58n8k6QvWryqdUVJ2JJa6u1oFkkUvbpGfXAtkNcy9anIc1XTkkrcQplowr1Zzb4V3wSxBI_eEeLf4whGKmfsQ62tJPHuNoAKIAL8QMVHVuqXcKhlmLITbbshLMpwo6CjCQK8B3aSpXwUUDStrbrk4tkYzL_y6bUSm0-YCLuv-Ntw_KRw/s900/freedom-vesna-martinjak.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="607" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEfRfkArfad58n8k6QvWryqdUVJ2JJa6u1oFkkUvbpGfXAtkNcy9anIc1XTkkrcQplowr1Zzb4V3wSxBI_eEeLf4whGKmfsQ62tJPHuNoAKIAL8QMVHVuqXcKhlmLITbbshLMpwo6CjCQK8B3aSpXwUUDStrbrk4tkYzL_y6bUSm0-YCLuv-Ntw_KRw/s320/freedom-vesna-martinjak.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freedom by Vesna Martinjak<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>For my friends, family, and myself, it feels like an entire year of celebration. In fact, I just told a judge on Friday that there's too many painful moments we experience, but we need to really seize the beautiful days we have, like today. Friday was a beautiful day. And I spent the afternoon and evening at Santa Monica, enjoying the sun, sea, and sand. It made me think about how this is Jubilee year. Just a few weeks ago began the Queen's Platinum Jubilee. <p></p><p>What's Jubilee? The secular definition is a celebration of an anniversary. Hence, the Queen's Platinum Jubilee is the celebration of her 70 years of rule. </p><p>But the Torah gives us a much more specific definition. In Hebrew - Jubilee means "ram's horn" - which was blown to announce the start of the Jubilee year, an awesome year. It's also related to the Hebrew word for "release" and "liberty". </p><p>According to Leviticus, Jubilee was celebrated after seven cycles of a sabbatical year, which occurred once every seven years. A sabbatical year was a commandment by God to rest and to do no work and to let the fields lie fallow. If you think about it, it's pretty radical that God would say stop working for an entire year and not make any money. </p><p>Practicing the Sabbatical and Jubilee was really a practice of obedience and trust in God. It was a declaration that doing what was right, like letting the land rest, or redeeming someone's freedom, or letting the poor eat off your land, was more important than earning a profit. And the Jewish people had to trust God would provide during that year and some time after, for practicing active rest, celebrating, and honoring a good God.<br /></p><p>Incidentally, followers of my blog will remember, I actually took a year and 3 months off of a sabbatical. Finances were tough on my return. But looking back, no regrets. Taking a sabbatical was like removing the string of the bow of my mind and restringing to make it sharp again. I was mentally more agile because I took a year off, gave work a rest, and made no money in that year.<br /></p><p>Well; Jubilee was even more radical. On the 50th year (49 years for 7 cycles of sabbath), the Hebrew people were commanded to forgive all debts, free all slaves and prisoners, and return all ancient lands to their property owner. It was a year, in which Heaven could be experienced on Earth. Some Rabbi scholars actually argue that Jubilee required two years of rest: the 49th year and the 50th year, meaning that God's people actually had to really have faith that provisions would be made.<br /></p><p>In any event, Jubilee was and is a year of celebration, because we're celebrating the fact that all debts have been paid, and we're free. It was also a future foreshadowing of how God would one day reunite his people to him one day by forgiving all sins and clearing the slate free for all of us to bring us back to Him, because as Numbers says (which I've been reading and enjoying thoroughly): "In accordance with your great love, forgive the sin of these people, just as you have pardoned them from the time they left Egypt until now." (Numbers 14:19-21).</p><p>One scholar says that the Jews never practiced Jubilee, perhaps because they refused to forgive everyone's debt. (Lester L. Grabbe, <i class="_7s4syPYtk5hfUIjySXcRE">A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period</i>, Vol. 1, p. 223; Bloomsbury, 2006). Sadly, that also meant that the people didn't receive the full blessing and benefit of the greatness of debt forgiveness.</p><p>In any event, even if we can't fully practice all the regulations of Jubilee this year, I do ask we try to make this year about reconciliation with family and friends. Leviticus clearly commands that if a family member becomes a slave, that the family has to repurchase his freedom back during a Jubilee year. How often is this happening in our society today? Often.<br /></p><p>People fall into gambling debt. People fall into drug addictions. Families are split up and broken by greed and seductive but empty affairs. Leviticus never says the person isn't to blame for her poor choices that brought her into bondage. It says despite that person falling into slavery, we who have more and are more fortunate, are commanded to get them out of slavery and reconcile them back to family. God commands us to do this, because He does it for us. And that's at the core of God's heart. </p><p>This year, I had to help free two people who were imprisoned into slavery by their bad choices. Both times, I was really upset that I had to do so. I also felt like it was really unfair for me to carry such a heavy burden alone, both financial and emotional.<br /></p><p>But I manned up. I owned the responsibility. I told myself my motivation is to do the right thing. And I'm going to do it. Looking back, I can say, there's nothing like having relationships restored.</p><p>So - this Jubilee year - I'm asking everyone to make the goal of restoring relationships more important than making a profit. The next one will be 50 years from now. So, let's practice and celebrate an awesome year together.</p><p>We're here to set the captive free. Then we can celebrate the freedom we both experience. Not only is the person in bondage free, but letting go of money (and our faith in it) to purchase someone else's freedom also frees those who have wealth and privilege.<br /></p><p>I end with the last two verse from the Parable of the Prodigal Son. <span class="text Luke-15-31" id="en-NIV-25620"><span class="woj">“</span></span><span class="text Luke-15-31" id="en-NIV-25620"><span class="woj"><span class="text Luke-15-31" id="en-NIV-25620"><span class="woj">‘</span></span>My son,’ [the more privileged one] the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.</span></span><sup> </sup><span class="text Luke-15-32" id="en-NIV-25621"><span class="woj">But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’” (Luke 15:31-2, NIV).</span></span></p><p><span class="text Luke-15-32" id="en-NIV-25621"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL81eAtM7t290kH83mWi9-dWTx4qvu6IFnc5TNaqzoBXVwhejPFo9qkCFTk4N5TREmNxVKX_N_CDS82WjUv94SqZglnPtKLbFioOTfAgsMdszOxvKRq1PtkTZdmQzsivR3UetcGOHXcD22bnOqaiDH4L5pMoP3mvSZFDSt68uQEwDUeXalT3D7wtQqSA/s1060/Rembrandt-The_return_of_the_prodigal_son.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="787" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL81eAtM7t290kH83mWi9-dWTx4qvu6IFnc5TNaqzoBXVwhejPFo9qkCFTk4N5TREmNxVKX_N_CDS82WjUv94SqZglnPtKLbFioOTfAgsMdszOxvKRq1PtkTZdmQzsivR3UetcGOHXcD22bnOqaiDH4L5pMoP3mvSZFDSt68uQEwDUeXalT3D7wtQqSA/s320/Rembrandt-The_return_of_the_prodigal_son.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rembrandt's Prodigal Son.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span class="text Luke-15-32" id="en-NIV-25621"><br /><span class="woj"><br /></span></span><p></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-65380741442079458272022-05-02T16:10:00.005-07:002022-05-02T16:23:57.924-07:00Be Salt; Be Light<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPDOyc5rcn-xZmnwBtF4it1ADfdle3YMcHioy_Oih9LsReK2fAgXjfuYGFT6QTIzQ2o2BYJ3JYQs8PI2p9k24QFb3V5CvG6iFDWK-d18f-5II9C7bOUn_HiQZx8z2IwElYJjjIIH3f_2TAlbG4IA1uLddY1HWWLQhaRywMZUkqIEYYm8rNsgDWt-H2Fg/s540/2gfn9hc.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="(c) Alamy" border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="384" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPDOyc5rcn-xZmnwBtF4it1ADfdle3YMcHioy_Oih9LsReK2fAgXjfuYGFT6QTIzQ2o2BYJ3JYQs8PI2p9k24QFb3V5CvG6iFDWK-d18f-5II9C7bOUn_HiQZx8z2IwElYJjjIIH3f_2TAlbG4IA1uLddY1HWWLQhaRywMZUkqIEYYm8rNsgDWt-H2Fg/w228-h320/2gfn9hc.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><p>I'm sorry I haven't wrote in awhile again. Because again, my family's had health issues. Several weeks ago my father had a fall. While this happened, I was also working on his elder abuse case. His girlfriend and family appear to be the culprits. <br /></p><p>Then, after the fall, my father was hospitalized last week and nearly died. He was in a coma and his body was convulsing violently. Very sad to see.There were all sort of complications and details that I won't discuss. I will say it was a very frustrating and painful ordeal. </p><p>In any event, he's recovering and doing much better - though he's not out of the woods yet.</p><p></p><p>What did I learn from all this? At one point, I felt tired from dealing with all this, especially when these duties weren't assigned to me. Family issues are tough. </p><p>But I asked a former pastor of mine for counsel, and I was encouraged by it. He told me, "I'm glad you're doing everything you're doing. As a Christian - you're duty is to expose and fight evil, and shine a light on it." Those words helped me confirm that I was doing the right thing, even when other family members told me otherwise. (That's family for you, and as the Chinese say: "Matters of the heart are complicated.")</p><p>I'm glad I stuck with it, and persevered. I'm blessed to have great counselors, especially older ones who respect fathers. It helps to have a coach in your corner, who has experience with darker people and knows how to sort them out.<br /></p><p>After I put my father in a safe place, I saw a strange sign. (From time to time, this happens in my life.) Our cat, "Jeh Pan", (Trial)), killed and brought me several lizards as presents. I told him, "Jeh Pan - the lizards eat the insects. Stop doing that." But he looked at me in a way that told me he wasn't going to listen.</p><p>Later that day, Jeh Pan jumped on the house's official chair. From there, he watched all the various fish in the aquarium and made it clear he was now in charge. I smiled and said, "Sah Jah (Lion) - you are way too spoiled for your own good." But we spoil him, because we love him.</p><p>The day after, at around 1am, I saw a pack of dogs chase my cat. Taking advantage of the darkness, he ran and hid underneath a car. The dog was still prowling out on the street, but after my run, I found him in a hiding spot and picked him up and took him home. He was happy. Now he acting like the king of the block. </p><p>Anyways, last year, I wrote that the verse of the year was Hebrews 12:14. (GNT): "Try to be at peace with everyone, and try to live a holy life, because
no one will see the Lord without it."</p><p>Finally - the theme of my year has come to me. “You are salt for the earth. . . . You are light for the world. . . . [L]et your light shine in front of people. Then they will see the good that you do and praise your Father in heaven." Matt. 5:13-16 GNT. Remember; salt and light are not incidental elements; they have the power to destroy disease.</p><p>If you're not that into the New Testament, I think that the Jewish Scripture equivalent is as follows. "No, the Lord has told us what is good. What he requires of us is this: to do what is just, to show constant love, and to live in humble fellowship with our God." Micah 6:8 (GNT).<br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3411905138826129887.post-16513662150130708142022-02-03T14:12:00.007-08:002022-02-06T16:12:28.248-08:00OpEd Published - Private Criminal Prosecution: Contracting our constitutional due process rights to the ultra-wealthy<p style="text-align: left;"></p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjp5nbOyKuZhIFN24mZmzG-ThxACRSKEz6MEY6cdnx5eXFj3jtq53t-Gjo9RP2-Y1wabD1x1-ipGgauYPGNthSwcxq3hl2vFDi4YeVx5f8L3cVJi5m8qSydP7XcFKVWqgwWp9wuI1WD-CM2MkQ-TSDZx6qu5n8SRaWGJ5uHpEVnU0C0Ne0xQr5vePweIA=s1980" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="(c) Cam Cottrill, published on NY Times" border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1980" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjp5nbOyKuZhIFN24mZmzG-ThxACRSKEz6MEY6cdnx5eXFj3jtq53t-Gjo9RP2-Y1wabD1x1-ipGgauYPGNthSwcxq3hl2vFDi4YeVx5f8L3cVJi5m8qSydP7XcFKVWqgwWp9wuI1WD-CM2MkQ-TSDZx6qu5n8SRaWGJ5uHpEVnU0C0Ne0xQr5vePweIA=w320-h233" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;">My opinion editorial was published yesterday in the Argonaut News - a local paper for Marina del Rey, Venice, and Santa Monica. It hasn't been uploaded on the site yet, but I appreciate them publishing my article. I've copied and pasted it below for you guys. They published it <a href="https://argonautnews.com/private-criminal-prosecution/">here</a>.<br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Private Criminal Prosecution: Contracting our constitutional due process rights to the ultra-wealthy</b></span></p><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="im">Judge
Loretta Preska sentenced environmentalist lawyer, Steven Donziger to 6
months of imprisonment for a criminal contempt misdemeanor for
withholding confidential information. Donziger has already served 787
days under house arrest. The UN human rights council declared that the
house arrest violated international human rights law. Judge Preska
ignored the decree.<br /><br /></span>Chevron began its campaign to war against
Dongizer after he obtained an $18 billion judgment against Chevron for
dumping toxic waste in the rivers of the Amazon rainforest. The dumping
harmed at least five indigenous communities, whose livelihoods depended on this water.<br /><br />After the judgment, Chevron filed a racketeering suit (a
type of charge generally reserved for mobsters). Without a jury, the
court found against Donziger. Then, the New York Bar revoked Donziger's license to practice law. The court ordered confidential
communication to be released. For refusing, the court ordered one of the
longest house arrests in American history. To find Donziger guilty of
criminal charges without a jury trial, the court appointed a
private law firm, which previously profited from Chevron, to criminally
prosecute Donziger. <br /><br />Although it appears that numerous legal
errors were committed here, the purpose of this opinion is to stress the
hidden, illegal and trending unconstitutional practice of contracting out
criminal prosecution to contractors. The Fifth and Fourteenth
Amendments guarantee that the government cannot “deprive any person of
life, liberty, or property, without due process of law”. As Donziger’s
case proves – without due process – a person’s life and reputation can be ruined.<br /><br />One
of the core rights of due process is that a defendant is entitled to
have a prosecutor who is fair and neutral, because of the heavy,
scarring, and maiming impacts of a criminal conviction. For instance, a
criminal record is a bar to a number of employment opportunities.<br /><br />There
are three rights that a defendant is entitled to from a fair and
neutral prosecutor. One, a defendant has the right to decide whether the
government should spend its resources in filing the case. Two, the
defendant has a right to a fair plea bargaining deal. Three, the defendant has a right to a fair sentence by the prosecution.</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Prosecutors
are paid on salary. Therefore, since profit is not the reason she is
making government decisions, neutrality is presumed. But a contractor,
who profits off a case, has every reason to prolong a criminal case, or
file a frivolous one, or recommend punitive sentences, which a party like Chevron may want.<br /><br />There are
three ways that contractors can profit from the accused. This happens
when they get paid by the hour, are paid more for prevailing against the
defendant, or execute decisions with an eye for future contracts with
the government. Here, the Department of Justice, the government’s
default prosecutors, declined to file charges against Donziger.
Because Chevron wanted to circumvent the government’s decision, it hired a
law firm that profited by all of the above factors.<span class="im"><br /><br /> In 1987, in
<i>Young v. United States ex rel. Vuitton et Fil</i>s, 481 U.S. 787 (1987) the
U.S. Supreme Court found the practice of private prosecution to be
repugnant to due process. It stated, “That state official has the power
to employ the full machinery of the state in scrutinizing any given
individual. Even if a defendant is ultimately acquitted, forced
immersion in criminal investigation and adjudication is a wrenching
disruption of everyday life. [S]uch an [interested] attorney is required
by the very standards of the profession to serve two masters.” <br /><br /></span>But
nearly 35 years later, the practice rears its ugly head again to
prosecute protesters, the poor, and civil rights attorneys. In a case I
litigated, the City of Baldwin Park contracted a private law firm for
$25,000 to
charge an 80 year old man for putting up a sign that criticized a
politician of being corrupt. The problem was that the City filed charges
against the father of the alleged offender and not the person who put
up the sign. And get this: the corrupt politician actually and
eventually pled guilty to bribery in federal court.<br /><br />Three years ago and also in
California, in “Coachella and Indio, the law firm Silver & Wright
has repeatedly filed criminal charges against residents and businesses
for public nuisance crimes—like overgrown weeds, a junk-filled yard or
selling popsicles without a business license—then billed them thousands
of dollars to recoup expenses” reported the Desert Sun. One woman was even
charged $6,000 for violating the chicken ordinance.<br /><br />For all
these reasons, private prosecution must clearly be prohibited. Our
constitutional rights cannot be decided by corporate interests. Doing so
ultimately concentrates powers and rights in the hands of the ultra
wealthy, at the expense of the citizen. Having money shouldn't entitle
the rich to be able to criminally prosecute people they don't like, just
because they have money. For this reason, even Chief
Justice Roberts recognized: “A basic step in organizing a civilized
society is to take that sword out of private hands and turn it over to
an organized government, acting on behalf of all the people.”</span><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="color: #888888;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><h2 class="hP" data-legacy-thread-id="17e31e3fbb8295cd" data-thread-perm-id="thread-a:r9048241469733323932" id=":2nz" tabindex="-1"> </h2><p style="text-align: left;"> </p><p style="text-align: left;"> <br /></p><p> <br /></p>Paul C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/00063802330294519042noreply@blogger.com0