I’m … I’m just dumbfounded. I really don’t know what to say. And anything I could say couldn’t come close to saying what needs to be said. It’s too hard to express disgust for something that’s so patently and unabashedly disgusting. A monster under the bed drooling green slime sliding its forked tongue over pimpled lips.
It’s come time when our county government, combined with a pimped-out judicial system, has thrown out all rationality and human compassion just to stick it to Dan DeVaul.
This type of black-hole coldness makes my chest hurt. Because it’s no longer about some old coot dumping cars on his lot, or building barns the county doesn’t approve of. At this point, our “representatives” seem so blinded by spite and embarrassment that they’re actually willing to physically harm people—to condemn people, once again, to homelessness—just to ensure that a stubborn, loud-mouthed asshole like DeVaul fills out his paperwork properly, or puts some old clunker in a designated storage facility. This isn’t about safety anymore, it can’t be.
There aren’t enough words. So, SLO County, realize that it comes from the deepest corners of my soul and with unwavering sincerity when I say … you know, I’m not even going to waste my choice words on you, but you can guess which four letters I want you to come away with.
What makes this whole governmental abortion truly abhorrent is how cowardly it was carried through.
Like most red-blooded patriots, I spent my Friday before the Fourth of July planning how I was going to ruin everyone else’s Sunday at the barbecue I would be attending uninvited. I had my butt perched eagerly on the edge of my chair waiting for the clock to strike quitting time and start ticking into partay time, which is odd because I don’t technically have a job and I could’ve left my recliner anytime.
Yes, most of us were looking forward to the three-day weekend ahead without a care in the world, raring to send airborne packets of gunpowder flaming into the bone-dry hills.
Judge Charles Crandall, on the other hand, turned into the Grinch who stole the Fourth. After a week of sitting on his thumbs, Crandall finally announced his decision on just how badly he was going to stick it to DeVaul and how much collateral damage he was willing to inflict on the residents of Sunny Acres. If you’ve ever seen the movie Office Space, there’s a scene where the main character Peter tries to slip out early on a Friday. Why? Because he knows his boss will wait until just before the weekend to tell Peter he’ll have to work over the weekend.
Crandall pulled a fat, stinking Lumbergh on all of Sunny Acres. At 3 p.m. on a Friday afternoon he issued his judgment that stated that damn near every resident was going to be 86’d with about as much care as a bouncer flinging a Friday night drunk onto the street. Many residents will be tossed on their asses because the county has deemed Sunny Acres unfit for human habitation, and even homelessness is more accommodating—or so they say.
For those of you who work in normal, non-state jobs, closing time for the courts is 4 p.m. That gave Crandall just enough time to issue the inhumane judgment, slink back into his cave, and hide out for three days from the people he just evicted. OK, to be fair, he just carried out the psychotic request of Terence Cassidy, a paunchy government whore, who himself was just carrying out the orders of his ultra-cowardly bosses in San Luis Obispo County government (Code Enforcement, County Counsel, and the Board of Supervisors, among others).
Let’s break down how absurd this has become. Crandall, at the request of the county, ordered all residents living in the barns, sheds, and tents to pack up and leave. Soak that in for a minute. Sunny Acres residents living in tents are being told it’s not safe to live in tents. Where the hell do you think they’re going to go next? Maybe to the creek where they’ll live in tents? Then again, the SLO City Parks Department has been known in the past to tear through tent camps like hormonal lumberjacks in order to enforce the you-can’t-be-homeless-here law. So I’m sure everyone will be utterly, chronically homeless again soon enough, but safer by county standards—or so they say.
Is the county offering any alternatives? Hell no. It’s just a kick in the butt and a “sorry, you’re someone else’s problem now.”
Except the county has admitted repeatedly that it’s incapable of providing shelter services even to a level of accidental adequacy. And county officials have been known to dump people at Sunny Acres like a college student heading home with a sack of dirty laundry.
I … I just don’t know what to say anymore.
The Shredder can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.