First posted: April 28, 2014
As I recounted in Chapter 3 of My T-shirt Resistance, there were three men (besides the two female employees present at the scene) who on July 9, 2012, attempted to murder me outside of the Joshua Tree Circle K. Of those three, only two have been identified: Mr. Nuts and Mr. Orange. Everybody in town knows who they are, where they are and what they did in their attempt to kill. However, I was not able to identify the driver of the Edison water tanker truck because he failed to exit his vehicle in the minutes I remained on scene, until now.
I have seen this man three times. First, directly after the 2012 incident. For about a week, he sat in the cab of a two ton box truck marked with the name of a nursery and landscaping company that was parked in the Circle K lot, as if on guard duty. Once, as I drove past, he even gave me a wave.
A year later he followed me into Oasis, a local office supply, and watched me as I conducted my business. Finally, on April 21, 2014, he tracked me into the Joshua Tree laundromat and with a female accomplice, were in motion towards my back, until I spotted their approach. She appeared to be about twenty years his senior, Caucasian, salt and pepper hair, slim build, medium height. When I attempted to make eye contact, they both hustled past me and dashed out of the premises.
He’s the killer who wielded the water tanker truck as a weapon with intent to murder. Who knows what else he has done, to whom, his history, his motives, or plans? It is just as important to ask who he works for simply because he is not an independent actor. He is being used.
For example, starting with Citizens Patrol deputy, Mr. Orange, go into the three Morongo Basin Stater Brothers markets and count the number of their male employees who happen to be prematurely bald and artificially tan Caucasians. Try to speak Spanish with any one of them and watch them scoot away into their back rooms. A freak coincidence, an anomaly of nature, a corporate decision to be a leader in fair employment practices or perhaps their overwhelming love of south of the border culture and traditions?
I don’t think so, not when it is known that recently retired captain Boswell of the Morongo Basin San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department began his working adult life as a store manager for Stater Brothers and who loudly and proudly boasts of the on-going personal and professional relationship he has maintained with them throughout the years.
What I do think is that Stater Brothers grudgingly employs token brown and black people like props in a set design necessary to help hide, sequester and give a livelihood to any number of rogue, criminal and wanted ex-employees of the San Bernardino County Justice departments.
Further, and even more insidious is this. San Bernardino County is the most corrupt county in the state and this quid pro quo arrangement Stater Brothers and other businesses have with local law enforcement is emblematic of not just corruption, but as a political model, is outright fascism in the works: the convergence and amalgam of corporations, church and government. Throw in a newspaper, a radio station and a population of gullible true believers, liberal enablers, and utterly deluded new age self-servers and you’ve got yourself a genuine fiefdom.
But, to give the devil its due, I must applaud this little Shining City on the Hill for its stab at totality, as in totalitarianism. They almost had it covered: from birth to grave, from life to corpse and apparently, with enough business to employ its own body disposal unit. After all, chainsaws, tree chippers, landfills and murder make good mulch and I know of one landscaper, as pictured above, who seems to have earned enough leisure to sit around in parking lots for a week or even do a load of laundry on a Monday afternoon with nothing else to do.
I bet he goes to a church, one with enough of that holy oil to keep the gears of this community well greased and running. If they had killed me as planned, it would have been lauded as an act of god striking vengeance on the unbeliever and those guys would become local heroes, their business would boom, their pews finally filled with supplicants, contributions and donations.
But, they botched it. If the San Bernardino Sheriffs did not destroy the in-store and outside video, everyone could see them, from start to finish, cheering from the inside for the kill, then desperately ripping out their hair when their plans fell flat. Who do they pray to now? Not that I give a damn, but I’m sure it would be comical to hear the sort of grand signs they conjure up as a means of explaining their failure.
Actually, I only have one question, but I already know the answer. Why are California’s prisons over flowing with tens of thousands of inmates doing time, hard time, for less than a small percentage of the crime that these goons, thugs, perverts and killers who lead our community do as a way of life?
F.B.I. Hate Crimes: (310) 996‑3359.