Volume 1 Edition 1 April 1, 2014

De Gnus

De Verse


At first blush, it would appear former Nevada State Senator Elizabeth Halstead and Federal Chief Judge Robert Clive Jones have nothing in common. As it turns out, neither do Burning Man.


To be sure, Ms. Halstead has incinerated her fair share of men.  Taxpayers paid for replacement of the Senate carpet to erase her charred footprints, especially since she rose to power, as it were, on a bed of family values as an avatar of the religious right


The real question: which one is the ‘empty suit’? Surely not Ms. Halstead. Even after giving birth to three children, she looks great in a bikini, with tolerances less than those between the pistons and cylinder bloc of an ML SKG 350. See Maxim. Displayed in an empty suit, she would surely blow our readers’ gaskets.


It must be Judge Jones. He wears a bow tie for Chrissakes!


Here’s the evidence: In a recent case before him wherein the Burning Man Festival asserted 1st Amendment violations against the County of Pershing, he refused to approve a settlement because children might be exposed to “people running around nude.” He accused the lawyers for Burning Man and the County of Pershing of criminal conduct:


“BRC, in collusion with the county’s counsel, filed and prosecuted this contrived, pre-textual lawsuit in order to obtain its new and illegal agreement with Pershing County, and in doing so, committed a fraud on this court, Pershing County and the Nevada Legislature.”


Now, were that true, don’t you suppose Judge Jones would have turned these miscreants over to the United States attorney for prosecution? Does he not have a duty to do so? As is common practice in the United States District Court for Nevada (Reno Division), he then summoned his personal Gestapo (these blue blazered attendants rattle their handcuffs meaningfully) to seize Burning Man’s counsel should she rise again and attempt to address him. Two blatant attempts to subvert the First Amendment occurred within the scope of  one hearing, and Judge Jones knew it.


He also knew that his reasoning in opposing gay marriage doesn’t pass constitutional muster: in Sevick v. Sandoval, Judge Jones opined:


“Should that institution be expanded to include same-sex couples with the state’s imprimatur, it is conceivable that a meaningful percentage of heterosexual persons would cease to value the civil institution as highly as they previously had . . .“


Judge Jones is in violation of his oath to uphold the constitution. He prizes the robes of a Mormon Bishop (cum marriage counselor), and the Book of Mormon, over the Constitution. But why should he care? He is immune from sanction.


The Founding Fathers provided for lifetime federal judgeships to ensure ‘impartiality’. But the Mormon chrysalis hadn’t hatched in 1776, and even Jefferson could not anticipate Brigham Young. Only in Nevada can such diverse critturs as Halstead and Jones simultaneously stalk the political landscape.


After her denouement, Elizabeth graciously disappeared Into the Wild of Alaska like a . . . like a . . . well, sort of like a tundran Barbarella.


He, on the other hand, should be reminded we have in the Desert of Nevada a convenient dinosaur cemetery, Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park, replete with nekkid dino bones. Don’t be enticed by the place name, your eminence, Nazism was invented in Munich. The directions can be found at http://parks.nv.gov/parks/bi/


Resquiesce en Pacem, Dude.






So when one of their number went off the range,

to chaw some Loco Weed brand Bill of Rights.

(a wild cayuse - Harry Claiborne by name),

they consigned him to the glue factory.


Now a Mormon Mafia hand jive chief

who never met a bank he didn’t love

or gay nekkid hippy that he did, runs the show,

(proving the angel Moroni rightly named.)


Behind the concrete-walled camouflage, he’s

but a man burning with oppression and hypocrisy.

The guards, cameras, metal detectors, bow tie

only ensure his like can hide, but never run.


The Barbed Bard