The Nevada Legislature, never one to let a smoothly running thing alone, is now setting its sights on the 988 Suicide and Crisis Hotline with a bill that promises to improve it—by burying it under a fresh heap of bureaucracy.
Hatched by Assemblywoman Rebecca Edgeworth, Assembly Bill 380 sets out to improve the business of saving folks in distress by assembling a whole committee to do the job a single good Samaritan used to handle just fine.
“The bill will save the state money and let police and firefighters focus on crime and medical emergencies,” Edgeworth declared as if she had discovered a long-lost commandment. “It will also ensure people get the care they need, which is why all municipalities support it.”
Under this grand new plan, a troubled soul won’t merely find a helping hand but an entire delegation—police, doctors, and an assortment of well-meaning experts who will, no doubt, spend a fair bit of time deciding who ought to help first. Whether a drowning man prefers a life preserver or a lengthy intake form remains to be seen.
One might wonder why a perfectly functional crisis line needs restructuring to work–a question best left unasked, lest one find oneself the subject of the next legislative improvement.
It didn’t take long for Nevada Attorney General Aaron Ford to hitch himself to a lawsuit to stop President Donald Trump from taking a sledgehammer to the Department of Education.
Along with 20 other attorneys general, Ford filed a motion, pleading for a preliminary injunction to slam the brakes on layoffs and the hasty rearrangement of services within the department.
“The President is acting unlawfully again,” Ford declared, with all the righteous indignation of a man who’s seen one too many government paychecks. “And this time, his actions would leave many of Nevada’s children out in the cold.”
If there’s one thing politicians agree on, children should be kept warm—whether by the fires of bureaucracy or the heat of a good legal brawl.
“Ripping away resources from our children and expecting them to succeed is not only cruel, it is also against the law,” Ford continued, shaking a metaphorical fist at Washington. “President Trump does not have the authority to dismantle the Department of Education by decree. As long as he continues to act unlawfully, I will continue to step in.”
Ford alleges that since Trump’s order went into effect, mass layoffs have already begun sweeping through the Department of Education, snuffing out the Office of Civil Rights locations like candles in a storm. He claims that funding for state school systems is in limbo, a fate usually reserved for political promises and budget surpluses.
The lawsuit contends that the President’s attempts to dismantle the department are unconstitutional since it was established by Congress, and even in these topsy-turvy times, the executive branch must tip its hat to the legislative one before tearing down a government institution.
Meanwhile, in the Nevada Legislature, Assemblymember Selena Torres-Fossett has decided that if the feds want to pull the rug from under public education, Nevada ought to nail it to the floor. She introduced a bill—AB94—to add state-level protections for the Department of Education, ensuring that, even if Washington loses its head, Nevada schools don’t lose their funding.
Armed with statistics like a gambler with a fresh deck of cards, Torres-Fossett laid out just how much Nevada stands to lose. She says students and schools have received nearly $6 billion in funding, including aid for homeless children, special education, and low-income students trying to claw their way into higher education.
She rattled off a laundry list of federal dollars flowing into the state’s schools, from $315 million in special education funding to $621 million in Pell Grants, creating a picture of a system propped up by Uncle Sam’s wallet.
“The Department of Education ensures that not only is every state providing the same high-quality instruction matching national standards,” Torres-Fossett said, likely envisioning a world where federal oversight still counted for something. “But the other reason the federal Department of Education is important is because it’s also what’s investing funds back into our schools.”
Her bill, if passed, would essentially keep Nevada marching to the beat of federal education standards—even if the federal band gets kicked out of the parade.
Well, friends, it appears we’ve reached that blissful stage of governance where state secrets get swapped like Sunday gossip–and national security is entrusted to the whims of a chat app. Yes, in this age of technological enlightenment, when a man can purchase an abacus with more encryption than our government employs, the stalwart stewards of our Republic have outdone themselves yet again.
The news, or rather the scandal of the hour, concerns one Alex Wong—a man whose vetting process seems to have involved little more than a handshake and a wink. It has now come to light that Wong, deputy national security adviser under the Trump administration, had familial ties to the Chinese Communist Party through his late father-in-law, a man deeply enmeshed in China’s satellite operations.
Wong was a staff member for Mike Walz, a national security advisor. His wife, Candice Chiu Wong, is a former U.S. Attorney who prosecuted cases related to January 6th and served in the Obama administration.
Given that satellites, much like politicians, have an uncanny knack for spying, one would think this connection warranted at least a second glance. But no, dear reader, it appears the only scrutiny our government excels at is the persecution of its citizens for thought crimes.
Yet the comedy does not end there. This same Alex Wong, our champion of unfiltered access, was reportedly involved in the now-infamous Signal chat—wherein the intricate details of military operations got bandied about like a poker game at the saloon.
And who got included in this elite circle of military strategists? None other than Jeffrey Goldberg, editor-in-chief of The Atlantic. Perhaps our national security is dictated by subscription-based journalism now.
Naturally, our esteemed lawmakers, those tireless sentinels of virtue, have erupted in righteous indignation. Senator Jacky Rosen calls it an “inexcusable failure,” while Representative Dina Titus demonstrates the full breadth of her wit with a Forrest Gump quote.
And then there’s Senator Catherine Cortez Masto, lamenting that we were lucky the breach did not result in “catastrophic consequences.” Well, Senator Cortez Masto, one could argue that being governed by such blundering fools is a catastrophe.
But let us not lay all the blame at the feet of the administration. The synchronized media, that obedient lapdog, has taken great pains to frame this as yet another Trumpian debacle, carefully sidestepping the inconvenient truth that this level of incompetence is the natural offspring of a government that has long since abandoned accountability. Had the same guardians of democracy dedicated even half the effort to investigating Wong’s hiring that they put into pursuing unfounded allegations related to Russia, we might not currently see our military plans mentioned alongside brunch arrangements.
And then there’s the curious case of Senator Tom Cotton, a man who has built his reputation upon hawkish vigilance against Chinese influence yet somehow ushered Wong into Trump’s inner circle without a raised eyebrow. One wonders what vetting process was in place—perhaps a pinky swear and a background check performed by the local newspaper delivery boy?
Meanwhile, the administration scrambles for explanations, with Trump waving away concerns as a “glitch.” Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth assures us, with all the conviction of a fox guarding the henhouse, that “Nobody was texting war plans.”
Well, sir, if you say so, though one suspects the Houthis appreciate such reassurances.
In all the clamor, the real tragedy remains unspoken. The American people, the supposed beneficiaries of this experiment in self-governance, are left watching a theater of incompetence where the actors fumble their lines, the stagehands set the curtains ablaze, and the critics—those noble guardians of truth—applaud the performance rather than sound the alarm.
And so we march forward, ever deeper into absurdity, comforted only by the knowledge that when the next scandal breaks, it too shall be met with furrowed brows, performative outrage, and—above all—no consequences whatsoever.
God save the Republic, for its keepers certainly will not.
“Now wait a second,” my voice trembling. “How the hell can that be?”
The woman across the desk from me leaned forward, “It just happens.”
“Just happens,” I cried, my voice rising. “Nothing just happens.”
Her lips curved into a smile, serene yet tinged with cold indifference. “Well, it appears you are having a mental breakdown, then.”
“I know that work there for over four and a half years,” I protested, “I still have my identification card.”
The woman rose then, her form stretching upward with an eldritch grace that defied the confines of human proportion, towering far taller than I anticipated, her frame thin.
She leaned over the desk. “The truth is that you never existed to them, so they will never miss you.”
When two teams meet, the home squad tends to call the shots.
Churchill County upheld that unwritten rule by edging out Fernley 7-5 in a tightly contested showdown, adding another chapter to the Vaqueros’ recent woes against the Greenwave. Fernley has now come up short six straight times in this rivalry, and despite a determined effort from six different players notching hits, they couldn’t shake the curse.
Alex Welsh and Riley McCullar did their level best to turn the tide, each going 2-for-4, with McCullar swiping a bag and knocking in a run. Yet, when the dust settled, Fernley found themselves sitting at 3-9-1 on the season, while Churchill County continued to ride high with six wins in their last seven outings, improving to 8-4-1.
Over on the softball diamond, Churchill County showed no interest in close contests, dismantling Fernley with a decisive 13-3 victory. If the Greenwave had a calling card this season, it was making short work of opponents—this marked their seventh double-digit win.
Janessa Bettencourt was a force of nature on both sides, fanning seven batters over six innings while allowing just one earned run. The ironclad hurler hasn’t posted less than seven strikeouts in four consecutive appearances. And if that weren’t enough, she wielded the bat with just as much authority, going 2-for-3 with a home run and four RBI.
Backing her up were Kalaya Downs and Maddison Keller, who provided the muscle at the plate. Downs launched a home run while Keller crossed home twice on a 2-for-3 showing. Churchill County’s bats were thunderous, with two long balls marking their best power performance since May 2024
With the win, Churchill County improved to 7-3, while Fernley—who entered the day on a five-game heater—saw their record slip to 8-2.
There was no time to dwell on the first game as Fernley and Churchill County laced up for a rematch later in the day. But if the Vaqueros had any hopes of revenge, the Greenwave had other ideas, rolling to a 10-7 triumph and sealing the sweep.
Maddison Keller and Dana Buckmaster played the mistresses of ceremonies in the hit parade. Keller went 2-for-4 with a home run, four RBI, and two runs, while Buckmaster took a perfect 2-for-2 turn at the plate, driving in three and launching her first home run of the season. Kalaya Downs kept pace, belting a homer of her own and collecting two RBI.
Churchill County hammered out 17 hits—keeping Fernley on its heels. With a 7-1 record when tallying 11 or more hits, the Greenwave have made it clear–when the bats come alive, they don’t lose.
Now sitting at 8-3, Churchill County looks every bit the powerhouse they’ve built themselves up to be. Meanwhile, Fernley, dropping to 8-3, will have to shake off the dust and get back in the saddle if they want to turn the tide next time these two meet.
Saturday morning saw the Coleville Wolves and the Virginia City Muckers square off on the diamond, both clubs desperate to shake off a streak of misfortune. Coleville, carrying five straight losses from last season, and Virginia City, burdened with six, had no illusions about their standing—they were two ballclubs hungry for a win.
Tuesday’s “Canine Competition” didn’t fare much better for Coleville, as Smith Valley made short work of them in a 16-1 rout. Meanwhile, Virginia City’s struggles persisted, with Portola shutting them out 15-0.
With their records now sagging to 0-4 for Coleville and 0-6 for Virginia City, both teams are staring at a long road back to respectability. The last time these two met in May 2024, Coleville ran away with a 15-2 victory.
Over on the softball field, it was a different story altogether. Virginia City’s ladies, fresh off a bruising 23-13 loss, turned their fortunes around in front of the home crowd with an 11-7 win.
Leading the charge was Nanna Lopez, who turned in a perfect 4-for-4 performance, driving in six runs, swiping two bases, and crossing home plate twice herself. Lopez has been nothing short of a menace on the basepaths, now boasting at least one stolen base in her last nine games. Not to be outdone, Riley Draper touched home three times, reached base in all three plate appearances, and pocketed two stolen bases of her own.
The Muckers’ bats were alive and well, hammering out a .393 team average on the day—just another chapter in a hitting streak that has seen them batting .316 or better for eight straight games. The consistency has helped lift Virginia City to a 3-1-1 record, proving that while their baseball counterparts may be struggling, their softball squad has found a winning formula.
The Yerington Lions are proving to be a runaway train, and West Wendover was just the latest team to find itself tied to the tracks. Riding a hot streak that had already seen them take three by an average margin of 9.7 runs, Yerington made it four straight on Saturday with an 11-1 drubbing of the Wolverines. It marked their second win over West Wendover in as many days, having already put them to the sword with a 13-2 victory on Friday.
The star was Valor Angle, who commanded both the mound and the plate with the confidence of a man who knows his way around a ballgame. Angle delivered five innings of work without surrendering an earned run, striking out seven for good measure. But he wasn’t finished—he also chipped in at the plate, going 1-for-4, stealing a base, and touching home once for good measure.
Alexis Martinez was a force of nature in his own right, slapping out three hits in four trips to the plate, swiping a base, and crossing home twice for a career-best performance. Not to be outdone, Aiden Nelson tallied two hits of his own, stole a pair of bases, and scored a run to keep the Wolverines on their heels all afternoon.
With the victory, Yerington improves to an imposing 8-1 on the season and extends their home winning streak to ten games, a stretch built on the backs of pitchers who have surrendered a paltry 2.0 runs per contest. Meanwhile, West Wendover, licking their wounds from back-to-back losses, drops to 8-4 as they look to regroup.
Yerington took the measure of Pershing County in their last meeting, and Monday night proved no different. With a firm hand and a steady bat, Yerington secured a 9-4 victory, showing once more that they’re a team to take seriously.
Valor Angle was the man of the hour, making his mark both on the mound and at the plate. He worked two innings without yielding a single hit, walk, or earned run—his first since April 2024. Not content with baffling batters, he crossed home plate twice and swiped a bag while going 1-for-4.
Turning in a solid effort, Toby Juarez pitched three innings and allowed only two earned runs on three hits. Juarez has kept his walk count to two or fewer in three straight appearances.
At the plate, Colby Rowe made his presence known, going 2-for-4, scoring a run, and nabbing two stolen bases. He’s making a habit of swiping bags, now having stolen at least one in his last three games. Erick Juarez reached base in three of his four appearances and touched home once.
Yerington has been on a tear, winning five of their last six contests, bolstering their season record to 9-2. Their bats have been on fire, averaging 10.2 runs per game in that stretch. Pershing County, on the other hand, finds themselves in dire straits, their road woes stretching to eight straight losses, dragging their record down to 5-8.
It stands to reason that if a fellow climbs into his automobile after a drink too many and sets out to test the resilience of telephone poles, pedestrians, and his conscience, he ought to face punishment befitting the mayhem he unleashes. Governor Joe Lombardo appears to share this sentiment, for he has proposed that Nevada’s justice system sharpen its teeth when it comes to those who, in their inebriated stupor, send their fellow man to an early grave.
At present, a drunkard with a death on his conscience might find himself serving a sentence of two to twenty years, though an arithmetic quirk in Nevada’s 1995 sentencing law means he could be back to his revelries in as little as eight. Prosecutors, in their quest for more suitable retribution, have sought to elevate such cases to the level of murder. However, the Nevada Supreme Court has thus far swatted away these ambitions, declaring that the Legislature has set the rules for vehicular manslaughter.
Yet, there are moments when reality outpaces bureaucracy, such as when Jemarcus Williams, a man with all the judgment of a careening boulder, sent two Nevada troopers—men who had the misfortune of standing where they were supposed to—into eternity. For this, Williams accepted a plea deal granting him a maximum sentence of sixteen to forty years as a start, but hardly the deterrent that Lombardo and his allies envision.
Under current law, a man’s first encounter with a DUI charge earns him little more than a slap on the wrist—perhaps a couple of days in jail, community service, or a promise to behave. Only after three offenses does the law consider him a serious nuisance. Lombardo and his ilk argue it’s a system designed to encourage bad habits rather than reform them.
But the governor’s ambitions are not limited to tightening the screws on drunken drivers. He has also turned his attention to Nevada’s dwindling state police force, where troopers seem to be scarcer than shade in the desert.
Despite securing a pay raise in the last legislative session, the state police remain understaffed, with nearly half of their positions unfilled. The situation is such that, on some nights, only a handful of troopers patrol the entirety of Las Vegas, a city unknown for subtlety.
Lombardo insists that this is not a problem that money alone can fix—though a lack of pay raises this year won’t help matters. Instead, he speaks of changing recruitment strategies, adjusting qualifications, and, in what must be an ambitious undertaking, altering the attitudes of both leadership and the community toward law enforcement.
As for his DUI crackdown, the proposal is part of a broader crime bill, the details of which remain trapped in the wheels of legislative review. Though the deadline for introducing bills has passed, Lombardo’s measure will still receive consideration—perhaps proving that, unlike some of Nevada’s less fortunate motorists, it has not yet hit a dead end.
Dr. Terence McAllister, a humble physician of the youthful persuasion in the neon-lit expanse of Las Vegas, spends his days peering into ears, diagnosing the common colds of the world, and dispensing remedies to children who would much rather be anywhere else. But lo! His work, it seems, lies not in mere tonics and treatments but in the finer art of conversation—like the merits of the latest video game or the nuances of an adolescent existential crisis.
Now, one might think a doctor’s business is ailments of the flesh—fevers, coughs, the occasional peanut lodged in an orifice—but Dr. McAllister finds himself navigating the tempestuous seas of modern identity discourse. And as the Silver State suffers a scarcity of pediatricians, second only to the barren wastelands of Idaho, he finds himself swapping his stethoscope for a lobbyist’s badge, embarking on that grand and time-honored American pastime: persuading politicians.
His latest cause? A bill, SB171, protects Nevada physicians from the long arm of the out-of-state law should they provide gender-affirming care to their patients. For the uninitiated, the phrase encompasses a broad swath of medical, mental, and social affirmations—ranging from calling young Timothy “Tina” to the more controversial realm of pharmaceutical and surgical interventions.
Senator James Ohrenschall, the bill’s sponsor, believes such measures are necessary to shield Nevada’s medical folk from prosecution in lands beyond the horizon, where officials take a dim view of such practices. Governor Joe Lombardo, for his part, has been less enthusiastic in years past, striking down a similar measure in 2023 for fear of meddling too with state oversight. But hope springs eternal in the legislative heart–and Ohrenschall has returned with a revised version, hoping the governor might wield his pen in favor rather than against.
The doctor, for his part, insists that these matters—social affirmation, mental health support, and medical treatment—are crucial to the well-being of transgender youth, who face higher risks of distress and despair. He warns that failure to pass such protections will leave Nevada’s physicians vulnerable to legal harpoons from less permissive states, where legislation against such practices grows like weeds in a neglected field.
Yet, a curious observer might raise an eyebrow at the notion of an ear, nose, and throat specialist venturing so fervently into the political fray. Once, doctors merely concerned themselves with the body; now, they wade into the grand social experiment of human self-reinvention.
What a time to be alive!
And so, Nevada finds itself at a crossroads. Shall it be a haven for physicians untethered by laws beyond its borders? Or shall it heed the cautious voice of governance that fears too hasty a stride in uncertain waters? The Senate Committee on Commerce and Labor will soon weigh the matter, and if the bill once again finds itself at the governor’s desk, the great gamble of politics will play out once more.
Meanwhile, Dr. McAllister, no doubt, will continue his work—peering into ears, discussing the finer points of Mario Kart, and wondering if he should have just stuck to sore throats and chickenpox.
The Old Blog in the Desert 