The Old Blog in the Desert

In a turn of events as predictable as a rooster’s crow at dawn, a gaggle of attorneys general from 14 states, including Nevada’s Aaron Ford, have taken offense at the notion that billionaire Elon Musk and his Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) might try to make the government more efficient.

The horror.

These esteemed guardians of bureaucracy have filed a lawsuit, hollering that Musk is exercising “virtually unchecked power” by daring to peek behind the curtain of federal agencies and—heaven forbid—root out waste, fraud, and abuse. The notion of a government official who isn’t asleep at his desk has sent them into a tizzy.

Their lawsuit, filed in Washington, D.C., insists that only a Senate-confirmed official can do the work Musk is doing. As every good Washington insider knows, nothing improves efficiency like adding a few hundred politicians to the process. The attorneys general are demanding that Musk stop giving orders outside of DOGE, identify how he’s been using “unauthorized” data, and essentially stop embarrassing the government by pointing out how much taxpayer money is vanishing into the ether.

Michigan Attorney General Dana Nessel took to the internet to declare their righteous indignation, flanked by colleagues from Arizona and New Mexico. Nevada Attorney General Aaron Ford, not one to miss a good bout of pearl-clutching, fumed, “Musk’s actions are illegal, and we will stop them.”

That’s right, folks—after decades of government waste, someone is finally taking action, and the first response is to sue.

Musk, for his part, appears to be having the time of his life, storming through federal agencies, poking into budgets, and suggesting that some departments—like that drawer full of expired ketchup packets in your fridge—might best be thrown out entirely. The tech mogul even went so far as to suggest “deleting entire agencies,” which sent bureaucrats into a panic not seen since the invention of the time clock.

Democratic attorneys general warn that Musk’s meddling might disrupt the delicate art of government waste, particularly at agencies like the IRS and CDC—because nothing says efficiency like tax forms that require a degree in hieroglyphics and public health guidance that changes more often than a teenager’s mood.

New Mexico Attorney General Raúl Torrez decried Musk’s actions, saying Trump is showing “weakness” by using a businessman rather than just pushing reforms through Congress. Yes, because waiting on Congress to fix inefficiency is like expecting a turtle to win a footrace against a racehorse.

Whether Musk’s crusade will succeed or if the government will wrangle him into submission remains to be seen. Washington hasn’t been this ruffled since someone suggested reading the Constitution before passing a new law.

The Lyon County Sheriff’s Office (LCSO) Sex Offender Task Force got their hands dirty on February 6 when they began sniffing around a potential troublemaker—a non-compliant Tier 3 sex offender rumored to be hanging his hat somewhere in Fernley. It didn’t take long for the trail to lead them to one Rogelio Barocio, a 39-year-old Fernley resident.

Fast forward to February 11, and Sheriff’s deputies, with all the precision and speed of a hound on a scent, tracked Barocio down, slapped the cuffs on him, and carted him off to the Lyon County Jail. His crime? A felony violation for avoiding his sex offender registration requirements.

Now, the Sheriff’s office is all about keeping things tidy in Lyon County, especially over sex offenders. The task force is making it their mission to ensure all offenders follow the rules.

They do their rounds—regular compliance checks—so you can sleep a little easier at night, knowing the sheriff’s got your back. But if someone decides to skip out on their legal obligations, the task force has made it their business to hold them accountable.

The Sheriff’s Office is calling on the good folks of Lyon County to do their part, too. If something smells fishy or you suspect a neighbor’s not playing by the rules, they want to hear about it at SOTF@lyon-county.org.

A Good Thing for Nevada

As part of the Trump administration’s ongoing efforts to put America’s energy needs first, federal officials are looking into redrawing the boundaries of certain national monuments—especially those established by previous administrations. It aligns with the February 18 order from Interior Secretary Doug Burgum to submit plans.

Now, some are already wringing their hands about this. Conservation groups are naturally concerned that the Trump administration might shrink or eliminate monuments like Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante in Utah.

They’ve been vocal about how these places should be left untouched. But let’s get something straight–the people who live in these areas should have the final say—not distant bureaucrats or environmentalists who don’t have to deal with the real-world implications of these decisions.

These areas aren’t just scenic vistas; they’re on valuable natural resources like coal and uranium. These resources could be key to America’s future energy independence. Shrinking some of these protected areas is sensible—it’s also essential for economic development and the future of communities that rely on these industries.

Trump’s first term saw a reduction in the size of these monuments, and it’s clear that the current administration is looking to continue that effort. It’s not about disrespecting the land but recognizing economic growth and energy independence. You can’t simply ignore that these lands contain precious resources that can power our nation and support countless jobs.

Despite the clamor from environmental groups, remember that these monuments, while significant, have also sparked conflict with residents who don’t want their livelihoods restricted. As the legal challenges to Trump’s previous reductions continue to simmer, one thing is clear: the people who live in these areas have a right to decide what happens to their land. It’s time we start listening to those voices instead of letting a select few in Washington dictate what’s best for all of us.

In Nevada, where development and clean energy projects often stall due to the creation of new monuments, it’s time to consider whether these designations benefit the people who call these places home. It’s not about protections; it’s about striking the right balance between preserving the land and local economies having the space to thrive.

There are few pleasures in life so fleeting as the sight of a gas station marquee promising relief from highway robbery—only to pull up to the pump and find that promise as empty as the tank that led you there.

But fear not, weary traveler, for Assembly Bill 29 seeks to end the grand deception.

“That is one of the additions that would come through in this bill,” says Bill Striejewski, who holds the high-sounding title Measurement Standards Administration Director with Nevada’s Department of Agriculture. “[It] would be to specify that street signage would show the higher price or highest price or both prices.”

In other words, if a gas station is going to advertise its wares, it had better tell the whole truth, not just the part that gets you to turn off the road. The bill would also untangle some legal cobwebs in Nevada’s fuel regulations, which haven’t seen dusting since 1951—a year when gasoline was cheap, cars were steel, and no one had yet imagined the modern swindle of electronic price signs and card surcharges.

The current laws, written when gas stations were less concerned with chicanery, fail to address many 21st-century innovations, including LED pricing signs, the ethanol content of fuel, and the now ubiquitous practice of charging more for credit card transactions. Under AB 29, any gas station that chooses to display its prices must list the highest price per gallon, ensuring that drivers aren’t bamboozled by the dream of discount fuel that vanishes upon arrival. The bill also insists that pumps properly label fuel grades, disclose the presence of ethanol, and bear the Nevada Department of Agriculture’s seal of approval, certifying that a gallon is indeed a gallon, not three quarts and a wink and a smile.

Some stations list all their prices honestly already, and Striejewski applauds their virtue. But, for those who prefer to let the fine print do the talking, AB 29 aims to correct their habits.

The bill recently received a hearing before the Assembly Natural Resources Committee. And while no one dared to oppose it outright, support came from the Retail Association and the Energy and Convenience Association of Nevada—groups that find clarity a refreshing novelty.

With Lawyers for Scenery

The grand and ongoing spectacle of the Murdoch empire’s implosion reached its theatrical climax in a Nevada courtroom, where the fate of Fox News, that mighty purveyor of conservative hand-wringing and lucrative advertising, hung in the balance.

Any illusions of a peaceful family accord crumbled under the weight of decades of betrayal, ambition, and good old-fashioned spite. There sat Rupert Murdoch, a venerable 92, hunched in a Manhattan boardroom in March 2024, staring across at his son James, the family’s prodigal disappointment.

The occasion? A deposition, though the true drama unfolded not in the lawyer’s questioning but in the not-so-subtle missives Rupert himself was texting to his counsel.

“Have you ever done anything successful on your own?” one such inquiry read. Another: “Does it strike you that everything that goes wrong is always somebody else’s fault?”

James, one assumes, had to marvel at the audacity of a man who had spent a lifetime spinning entire news cycles out of inconvenient scapegoats. Rupert, ever the strategist, suspected James was conspiring with his sisters to wrest control of the Murdoch empire upon his death and turn Fox News into something dangerously close to USAID-funded journalism.

He had long pitted his other son, Lachlan, against James, ensuring that his chosen heir would uphold the grand tradition of profit-first, integrity-later reporting. A deep dive into this family psychodrama traces James’ long, tragic struggle to win his father’s favor, from his early days of being mocked at Sky Broadcasting to his efforts in making Star TV profitable.

Every triumph by James came with a fresh betrayal as Rupert dangled the crown only to snatch it away at the last moment. The company, Rupert had decided, was best run by men in the mold of Roger Ailes—self-styled pirates with a fondness for truth and full-throated outrage.

The saga features all the hallmarks of a proper dynastic unraveling: a second wife accused without evidence of being a Chinese spy, a family “constitution” abandoned faster than a Murdoch-backed political endorsement, and Zoom calls where legal teams outnumbered relatives. The December meeting to discuss the trust saw Rupert stiffly reading from a script, while the Reno courthouse showdown required carefully orchestrated arrivals to prevent any accidental fraternizing.

The fatal blunder? Rupert structured the family trust to give each child equal voting power. A decision he likely rued as Nevada Probate Commissioner Edmund Gorman ruled in favor of James and his sisters, leaving Rupert and Lachlan’s grand scheme in tatters.

James was in tears on the stand while recounting one last betrayal over a Disney deal. Ever consistent, Rupert responded to an invitation for a holiday reunion with a referral to his lawyers. And so, the Murdoch fortune enters a holding pattern, awaiting its inevitable fate—divided evenly among four heirs who have spent a lifetime at war.

If the Money Holds Out

Once famous for silver strikes and sagebrush, Northern Nevada now fancies itself the promised land of the almighty data center. And if you believe the fine folks at NV Energy, this stretch of desert may soon play host to an electrical grid so large it would make Prometheus himself tip his hat in admiration—assuming, of course, that all goes according to plan, which, as history has often reminded us, it rarely does.

Doug Cannon, the president and chief prognosticator of NV Energy, recently shared his vision.

“It is absolutely foreseeable,” he declared with all the confidence of a man not personally footing the bill, “that the electric grid in Northern Nevada could double, triple, even quadruple in size.”

In plain speech, “foreseeable” means something a man can see with his own two eyes, but in the realm of industry and finance, it is more akin to tossing a coin into a well and hoping the water rises to meet it.

The cause of all this excitement is none other than the booming data-storage industry, which has taken a particular shine to the fine, sunbaked lands east of Reno-Sparks. A Denver outfit called Tract has declared it will rain down a hundred billion dollars upon Storey County over the next decade, while another concern, Vantage, has pledged a comparatively modest $245 million—small change, really, for a business that guzzles electricity the way a parched prospector guzzles whiskey.

But before you get too giddy imagining a future lit up like the Vegas Strip on New Year’s Eve, there is the small matter of producing all that power. NV Energy has made it abundantly clear that it will not rush into things.

No, sir.

They will build their empire of power lines only once the data-storage industry has put its money where its megawatts are. As Mr. Cannon sagely warns, it would be a terrible shame if NV Energy poured billions into new infrastructure only for these data companies to suddenly vanish like a mining town after the gold runs out, leaving good, ordinary folks of Nevada to pick up the tab.

It is no idle concern, as opposition to these data centers is already taking root. The Reno Planning Commission has proposed a temporary halt on new data center permits within city limits, and the Sierra Club’s Toiyabe chapter has thrown its hat into the ring, appealing the approval of a new center near North Virginia and Stead Boulevard. But worry not—out in Storey and Lyon counties, where the land is still wild and the local officials still welcoming, the march of progress continues unhindered.

Of course, the real question remains–where will all this power come from?

NV Energy places great faith in the Greenlink West project, a grand $4.2 billion scheme that aims to string a 350-mile transmission line between Las Vegas and Reno. Once complete, it promises to deliver a mighty 4,000 megawatts of clean energy, enough to keep the lights on in some 4.8 million homes. But as impressive as that may sound, Mr. Cannon concedes it still won’t be enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger of the data industry.

So, what about nuclear power? A fine thing, nuclear energy—clean, constant, and feared by many.

Cannon acknowledges its merits but assures Nevadans that NV Energy has no immediate plans to pursue it. “Let someone else take those development costs,” he says, with the shrewdness of a man who knows when to let another gambler take the first roll of the dice.

He does keep a watchful eye on newfangled small modular reactors, which promise to stack up neatly like poker chips and provide flexible energy solutions. But, alas, these require water too—a resource Nevada has in about the same quantity as a Sunday school picnic has whiskey.

And so, as the grand vision unfolds–a power grid of unprecedented size, a desert teeming with humming servers, and an industry promising untold billions—all balanced on the careful calculations of persons who, if history is any guide, will either be hailed as visionaries or remembered as those who bit off more than they could chew.

Either way, it promises to be a show worth watching.

It was a case of déjà vu for the boys from Sage Ridge on Friday night, as they once again found themselves on the losing end against Smith Valley, just as they had back in January. This time, however, they came heartbreakingly close, missing the mark by a single basket in a 42-41 defeat at the hands of the Bulldogs.

The Bulldogs had a hot hand in sophomore Madison Slater, who lit up the scoreboard with 24 points. Not to be outdone, Teagan York chipped in with 11, ensuring Smith Valley walked away with their fourth straight victory.

For the Scorpions, the loss brings their season record down to 8-6, while the surging Bulldogs now boast a 12-6 mark.

There was little time for Sage Ridge to lick their wounds, as they were back on the hardwood almost immediately, only to be handed a lopsided 61-17 loss against Pyramid Lake on the 1st. Smith Valley, likewise, wasted no time keeping their momentum going, steamrolling Virginia City 58-27 the same day.

It’s been a rough stretch for Sage Ridge, but if there’s one thing you can count on in basketball, the next game always brings another chance.

Tall Tales and Tragedies

Saturday, February 15, 2025

Murder, Mischief, and Melancholy in the Silver State

155 Years Ago – The town of Empire found itself in the middle of a most uncivilized disagreement when one William A. Ducker found himself shot stone dead by a fellow known as George Price, who hailed from some Scandinavian persuasion. The dispute originated over a game of cards—proving once again that a bad hand is sometimes the least of a gambler’s troubles.

140 Years Ago – The solemnity of history called upon Carson City’s businesses to down their shutters and doff their hats in honor of fallen soldiers from Fort Churchill. From 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., or thereabouts, the city was to be devoted to mourning, to convince the dearly departed that Nevada still held them in the highest regard.

120 Years Ago – The good Parson Davis, determined to save souls with a more melodious racket, introduced an instrumental quartet to accompany the organ at the prison chapel. The captive congregation, normally more acquainted with the rattling of chains than the harmonies of hymns, was said to have appreciated the effort. The warden has yet to say if anyone moved to salvation or closer to the door.

60 Years Ago – Governor Grant Sawyer found himself in hot water with southern Nevada’s Negro leaders, who accused him of selling them “down the river” with his civil rights bill. The Governor, we assume, did his best to assure them that the only river in question was the Colorado and that he had no intention of pushing anyone into it.

40 Years Ago – Sen. Paul Laxalt, R-Nev., took it upon himself to remind the world that “chaos cannot be tolerated” at Lake Tahoe—though chaos, being notoriously hard of hearing, remained undeterred. Nevertheless, the Senator vowed to intervene in the Tahoe Regional Planning Agency, ensuring that, if there were disorder, it would at least be well-documented.

Sunday’s Dispatch: The Curious, the Macabre, and the Mystifying

155 Years Ago – Miss H.K. Clapp, a most enlightened instructor, took to teaching English to some thirty Chinese scholars. Miss Babcock assisted, along with a few more advanced students, hoping that linguistic proficiency might improve the Celestials’ fortunes—or at least their ability to read the contracts that so often found them in unexpected servitude.

140 Years Ago – The remains of Nevada’s forgotten soldiers were reinterred with the full solemnity of the occasion. Business houses were closed, flags lowered, and the entire population of Carson City, along with delegations from every town, made the ceremony a sight to remember. Even the Capitol took on a mournful air, though some suspect that was merely the usual disposition of those within.

120 Years Ago – A miner named Joe Ward suffered a most unfortunate accident involving a missed hole in the Goldfield district. Though he had clung to life, hopes of his recovery faded, and by last evening, efforts to save him were for naught. While some would call this the natural course of mining life, Joe Ward would have preferred a second opinion.

60 Years Ago – Fire Chief Les Groth tallied the past year’s infernos at a record-breaking $225,000, with the Copeland Lumber Yard alone accounting for $120,000. However, in a rare turn of justice, a person was apprehended on February 14. The man was convicted of 17 counts of arson, proving once again that while fire may be quick, it is not always faster than the law.

40 Years Ago – A Zephyr Cove man found himself in a manslaughter case, while a Carson City driver got arrested for a fatal DUI incident. Two persons perished, marking another day in which the laws of man and the laws of physics agreed that recklessness behind the wheel is a most unwise endeavor.

Tuesday’s Reflections on the Absurd and the Alarming

155 Years Ago – A lively debate on women’s suffrage drew an audience from the Adelphi and Nonpareil Clubs and the city’s leading ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Ellis argued in favor with vigor, while Mr. Davies countered with such wit that one could almost forget he was opposing the thing altogether. Mr. Waits followed, making a most reasoned case, though whether it reasoned anyone into agreement remains uncertain.

140 Years Ago – Virginia City was abuzz over the discovery of gold-bearing steer teeth. The unfortunate bovine took a drink from a gold-rich spring near Truckee, proving that even the livestock of Nevada had better luck than most of its miners.

120 Years Ago – A Golconda saloon brawl took a most serious turn when William Henderson got struck on the head with a bottle. His prognosis was grim, which should serve as a reminder that while whiskey is known to cause headaches, it is generally advisable to keep it inside the bottle rather than applied directly to the skull.

60 Years Ago – The Nevada Legislature opened its 53rd session under Democratic control for the first time in 28 years. William D. Swackhammer was named house leader, a title as formidable as the name itself, though whether he lived up to either remains a matter of legislative record.

40 Years Ago – The Assembly Government Affairs Committee gave tentative approval to a bill allowing governing bodies to hold closed meetings with legal counsel concerning lawsuits. The public, of course, was assured that this was entirely in their best interest and not at all an attempt to keep them blissfully uninformed.

And thus, dear reader, we close this chapter of Nevada’s curious history, where fortunes are made, lost, and occasionally found in the teeth of a steer.

There comes a time, dear reader, when a man must look upon his fellows and, with a heavy heart, sever ties with those who persist in proving themselves as impervious to truth as a frog to feathers. These are the sort of folks who bask in the warm, comforting glow of ignorance, like pigs luxuriating in mud—except that pigs, to their credit, usually know where the mud ends and the trough begins.

Such individuals take to propaganda the way a duck takes to water, swallowing it down with a gusto that would make a pelican blush. Spoonful by spoonful, they are fed their daily dose of polished pretense by the same media that wouldn’t recognize an honest day’s reporting if it came up and bit them on the seat of their trousers.

But oh, how they revel in it! The wallop of it, the zing, the righteous sensation of being entirely, emphatically wrong, yet convinced beyond all reason that they are the paragons of enlightenment.

To argue with such a person is to wrestle with a tar baby—entertaining for spectators, perhaps, but maddeningly futile for the participant. It is best to walk away, head held high, and let them enjoy their blissful ignorance, untroubled by facts or the pesky nuances of reality.

So, cut those ties, my friend, and let them wallow. Wide is the world, and the truth is durable, while fools are plentiful—you’ll never run short of them.

The snow had been falling hard for a day and a half. Six feet in thirty-six hours.

Heavy, wet, and dangerous. The kind that slid, that buried men.

At 11:30 Friday morning, two ski patrollers were on Lincoln Mountain, working avalanche control.

The job was simple. Set the charges.

Watch the snow move. Keep the mountain safe.

Then the mountain came down.

One found, shaken but whole. The other was not so lucky.

They pulled him out and got him to Mammoth Hospital. He was still breathing, but he needed more than what they had there.

They flew him out.

The mountain was closed by noon. No lifts. No runs.

Just silence and snow.