In the Reign of King Sisolak

No regrets. That’s what Steve Sisolak says now. No second thoughts, no looking back, no sleepless nights over the businesses shuttered, the lives upended, the jobs erased like chalk on a sidewalk before a storm. “I wouldn’t change anything,” he tells reporters–as if that settles it–as if that made it true.

But Nevada remembers. The casinos might have flickered back to life, and the traps might hum again with tourists clutching watered-down drinks, but outside that neon glow, the scars remain. The boarded-up storefronts, the homes too expensive for the people who built this state, the kids who lost years they’ll never get back.

Sisolak ruled like a man who mistook himself for a king. Emergency powers meant to last days stretched into months, then years.

A flick of his pen decided who was “essential” and collateral damage. Churches sat empty while blackjack tables filled up.

Kids were muzzled with masks long after the science wobbled. And when the people cried foul and questioned the constitutionality of it all, Sisolak didn’t even flinch.

He hitched Nevada’s wagon to California’s fate, signing onto the Western States Pact like a junior partner in a doomed business venture. Newsom cracked the whip, and Sisolak followed suit. Zero fucking consideration for Nevada’s unique economy, no acknowledgment that Vegas and Reno weren’t just San Francisco with slot machines.

And then came the unemployment crisis, a disaster of his own making. Thousands were out of work overnight, drowning in paperwork and bureaucratic sludge while the state’s broken system coughed and sputtered. “We never anticipated this much demand,” he said as if the economic collapse was some act of God, not the direct result of his executive orders. The man who pulled the plug stood over the wreckage, shaking his head, gloating at all the darkness.

Nevada’s unemployment hit 28.2 percent, the highest in the nation. While locals scraped by, buyers from locked-down California swept in, driving housing prices to absurd heights. A state built on affordable living suddenly had its people priced out. The schools, the mental health system, the police—everything buckled under the weight of his decisions.

And when it came time to jab the population into compliance, Sisolak didn’t just push—the bastard sweetened the deal. He offered lotteries, stadium mandates, and “shots for raffle tickets” schemes that felt more like desperation than public health policy.

And then there was the mystery of the Chinese COVID tests—what happened to those? Nevada never quite got an answer.

But in the end, it wasn’t the critics, the scholars, or the ruined small business owners who delivered the final verdict. It was the voters.

In 2022, Nevada was the only state in the country to flip its governor’s mansion from blue to red. The message was clear–Sisolak could stand by his decisions all he wanted, but the people wouldn’t stand by him.

Sisolak gambled, even doubled down, but when the cards showed, he lost. No regrets? Maybe not for him.

But Nevada ain’t fucking forgetting.