By the looks of it, the great State of Nevada is goin’ to have herself an Easter fit for a king, a queen, and at least three well-fed rabbits. According to the keepers of coin over at the Retail Association of Nevada (RAN), folks will part with a staggering $382.3 million this season—proof that resurrection…

In the grand circus tent of Nevada politics, where the clowns wear neckties, and the carnival barkers speak a procedural language, four Republican senators drew a firm line—not in the sand, but in the cement mix of legislative integrity—by voting against Senate Bill 451, a measure to continue funding Las Vegas police through an existing…

Written by a Gentle Observer with a Pen, a Chair, and a Good Deal of Curiosity The Nevada Legislature’s 2025 session is like a poker game in a saloon where every man has a bluff and every lady–an Ace in her garter. In the democratic dance hall of Carson City, lawmakers are swapping their spurs…

While I ain’t one to speak ill of a man doing his job—when a fella like Nevada Attorney General Aaron Ford sets up a website to collect grumblings and bellyaches over Social Security and then has the gall to call it a crusade for commoners, well, I reckon we’ve wandered clean off the trail of…

Written in spirit, if not whiskey Nevada has done what any seasoned card player would do with a losing hand–bluff confidence and hope the other fella folds. The state’s unemployment rate, that old tick on the thermometer of public misery, has eked its way down from 5.8 percent to 5.7 percent. A cause for celebration,…

Embedded with the Marines. Fallujah. November 2004. My notebook’s a fucking mess, sweat-soaked, dirt-ground, my camera’s dented, lens scratched. I write quickly, snapping the shots, hands unsteady. At the Firebase—our base camp—things go wrong fast. Deliveries quit. No water, no supplies. The local nationals, those who hauled for us, cooked for us, they vanished. Then…

If you’ve never seen a smoke signal rise over the Capitol dome, you ain’t never watched a Nevada politician try to fix a problem he just found out he helped create. The Secretary of State, Francisco Aguilar, descended upon Carson City with a host of handlers, assistants, and earnest expressions to listen. Which, in political…

By Your most obedient and occasionally horrified servant, scribblin’ from the edge of perdition If you’ll pardon an old feller a few lines of printed astonishment, let me tell you–the world’s gone clean slap-dab mad, and Nevada’s holdin’ the wheel. One needn’t look farther than Carson City for proof, where a calm afternoon turned to…

By the dusty gauge of desert justice—and perhaps the dawdling rhythm of bureaucracy—two years is a mighty long time to wait for a man accused of murder to get clapped in leg irons. But lo and behold, the long arm of the law, slow as it may be, has proven it still knows its way…

By an Old-Fashioned Observer of Common Sense and Uncommon Nonsense It has been my lifelong observation—born of long years loafing along muddy riverbanks, dusty roads, and under canopies of Redwood trees—that when a fellow calls himself a Republican but starts acting like a Democrat in church clothes, the only suitable word for him is RINO,…