The Old Blog in the Desert

At the Reno Cares Campus, Washoe County officials require residents to present a photo ID card to retrieve mail-in ballots. The policy comes amid broader discussions on voter ID requirements across Nevada.

The Cares Campus, a facility providing services to unhoused residents, houses ballots in a locked mailroom in its Resource Center. Once sorted alphabetically into designated mailboxes, individuals who present a “clarity card”, a photo ID that allows residents to access other campus services, can receive a ballot.

The facility does not send ballots by mail; instead, residents must deposit them in person at a vote center, mailbox, or post office.

The new protocol has sparked questions on Nevada’s approach to voter ID requirements, an issue Governor Joe Lombardo highlighted in his recent State of the State address. The governor pledged to implement statewide voter ID legislation or pursue the measure on the ballot, emphasizing the importance of election integrity.

In response, Assembly Speaker Steve Yeager stated that such legislation would be “dead on arrival” in the Democratic-controlled legislature. Attorney General Aaron Ford has also voiced opposition, calling voter ID measures unconstitutional.

The Cares Campus also allows individuals without a permanent address to use either the campus address or a nearby location, such as a street corner, for voter registration purposes. Washoe County spokesperson Bethany Drysdale explained that unhoused residents can still register and vote despite lacking a fixed address. Her statement has stirred concern over ballots mailed to non-specific locations.

State law mandates that voters register at their residence, yet Drysdale defended the practice.

“Just because a person does not have a fixed address, doesn’t mean they are not eligible to vote.”

Meanwhile, the Public Interest Legal Foundation (PILF) continues to challenge the accuracy of Nevada’s voter rolls, citing numerous cases of non-residential addresses, including casinos and vacant lots. In a lawsuit filed last year, PILF urged Washoe and Clark counties to remove such addresses from the voter lists. While Clark County complied, Washoe County has yet to act due to turnover in the registrar’s office.

The Elias Law Group, led by attorney Marc Elias, representing Washoe County in the lawsuit, argued that granting PILF’s demands would open the door to “unsourced, unverified, and unsworn” challenges that could strain election resources. The law group claims such changes could disrupt the registration process, leading to unwarranted investigations into alleged irregularities.

As Nevada’s voter ID debate heats up, the Cares Campus policy marks a step toward tightening ballot access, even as state leaders remain divided over the broader question of voter ID laws.

Cari-Ann Burgess, Washoe County’s Interim Registrar of Voters, is on administrative leave now following an initial medical leave. The development comes just weeks before the November presidential election, as Washoe County continues to struggle with administrative and political tensions related to its election processes.

The county issued a statement explaining that Burgess, who allegedly went on leave for medical reasons, is now on administrative leave as part of an investigation into her job performance.

“The County will not comment further on a personnel matter and is focused on conducting the 2024 General Election,” the statement reads.

In her first public comments, Burgess said she felt “forced out” after declining proposed staffing changes from the county manager’s office, which would have reallocated some election personnel without her oversight. Citing her willingness to return to her prior role as deputy, she claims being compelled to request leave.

“I feel like I was absolutely forced out, but I have no idea how we got to this point,” she shared, reflecting on her recent high praise from colleagues.

This incident marks another administrative turnover in Washoe County, where five individuals have held the position since 2020.

The instruments of progress, cruel and unyielding, chiseled away at the ancient of thought, much like a second-hand will erode the fragile contours of the soul. Though Edgar Allan Poe, master of melancholy, had passed long before the modern world awakened to its technological horrors, his mind had danced upon the precipice of such uncanny revelations.

Familiar he was with the Daguerreotype, a grim, silent reflection of reality, where shadows were trapped, lifeless, upon silver plates. In the years after his departure from this mortal coil, other specters–actors, the hollow marionettes of performance would attempt to invoke his spectral presence upon the silver screens of the early 20th century.

Among these shadows of men stood one who eclipsed all others—Samuel Story, an actor whose very name carried an unsettling sense of destiny. His features, sharp as a raven’s beak, bore the pallor of long-departed ghosts, and his voice, though seldom heard, echoed like a forgotten wind across the desolate moors of human imagination. In silence, he moved, as did all in those early films, the flicker of motion betraying the illusion of life, as though the actors were phantoms, tethered to a dim and fading existence.

On the night in question—oh, that dreadful night!—Samuel Story took to the sound stage, a place that had long been his battleground and sanctuary. The role was none other than that of Poe himself, the tormented poet whose life had played out in tragedy. A prop door, simple in construction, was to serve as a symbol of transition–from one reality into another, from life to the unknown.

And it was there, in front of that infernal contraption—the camera, the all-seeing eye of modernity—that Samuel Story’s fate became sealed. With solemnity, he approached the prop door, his hand trembling as it grasped the handle. There was a hesitation–a moment in which the air seemed to thicken, shadows deepen, and time recoiled. He stepped through the door, his figure passing beyond the frame in a single motion.

Yet, what should have been an exit into the next scene became something altogether more sinister. When the camera’s mechanical eye blinked its final shutter, and the crew awaited Story’s return, he did not appear. The director, camera operator, and co-stars remained stunned silent, the clicking of the camera’s film rolls flicking, but the actor had vanished–his departure not merely from the sound stage but from the very fabric of reality itself. The door, that accursed door, remained affixed in place, an inanimate witness to the inexplicable. No one could explain how or why, but Samuel Story had stepped through and, like a whisper lost to the wind, had vanished into eternity.

But as inexplicable as his disappearance had been, the world was unprepared for his return. In 2023, Virginia City, an old mining town steeped in legend and the lingering spirits of a bygone era to which Samuel Story reemerged. He appeared as though he had walked out of another century, his clothes as immaculate as they had been the afternoon he vanished. Dapper, poised, and dressed in the fashion of Poe himself, Story’s figure cut through the modern age like a specter lost in time. His dark frock coat, slightly frayed at the edges but still regal, flapped gently in the cool mountain breeze, and the air around him seemed to shift, heavy with the weight of things forgotten.

Witnesses, astonished and wide-eyed, stood rooted to the dusty streets, their voices caught in their throats. There he was, as though plucked from a silent film, his skin pale, his eyes shadowed with a timeless melancholy. It was as if he had never aged a single day in the one hundred and nine years he had been absent.

What secrets, then, did Samuel Story carry? What strange and unspeakable horrors had he encountered behind that door, beyond the veil of the world he once knew?

His silence was more unnerving than any words he might have spoken, and his presence, though mortal, felt disturbingly unreal. The echoes of Poe’s tormented soul seemed to cling to him as though the actor and the poet were now inseparable, their fates intertwined in some dark cosmic tapestry.

No one would disclose his secret as Samuel Story strolled through the street–a living paradox, a man out of time, and a mystery unsolved.

A new political advertisement from the Democratic Party is stirring controversy for its portrayal of an extreme dystopian future in which JD Vance is a dictatorial successor to a dead Donald Trump, and tech mogul Elon Musk gains immortality by “siphoning” resources from Americans.

The ad has quickly become a flashpoint in political discourse, with conservatives accusing Democrats of engaging in the very conspiracy theorizing they often attribute to the right.

The ad’s provocative narrative has drawn backlash for its surreal, dark imagery and hypocrisy. Conservative critics argue that the advertisement leans heavily into fear-mongering, pointing to the very type of speculative and extreme scenarios that Democrats have previously condemned.

Many have voiced concerns about the ad setting a divisive tone and stoking fears as it veers into exaggerated depictions of what a GOP-led America could look like. While the Democrats defend the advertisement as a creative expression to illustrate policy differences and potential outcomes, the ad has intensified partisan tensions.

In a high-stakes transition to a new centralized voter registration system in Nevada, local and state officials are defending the system’s reliability as the 2024 presidential election approaches, while a county election official claims her warnings about data issues have led to her administrative leave.

Cari-Ann Burgess, the former interim Washoe County registrar, contends she is getting punished for her transparency with reporters about potential data transfer flaws, particularly regarding preserving accurate voter information. She also signaled her intent to file a whistleblower complaint, requesting federal oversight to prevent future election issues.

The controversy centers on Nevada’s new Voter Registration and Election Management Solution, implemented in 16 of the state’s 17 counties. The state legislature mandated the system update to modernize voter registration and streamline management for county clerks.

Secretary of State Cisco Aguilar emphasized the urgency of the new system, highlighting its role in enhancing security and efficiency in the voting process, yet the hurried implementation has faced pushback.

Burgess, placed on leave in October due to alleged insubordination and job performance issues, said she believes the system’s rushed deployment has left unresolved data issues that could impact voter assignments and status accuracy. According to Burgess, Washoe County, which includes Reno and is the largest county using the new system, lacks the staffing to verify the accurate transfer of all 384,000 voter records.

Nevada’s state officials, including Aguilar, argue that initial glitches—such as misassigned precincts and mislabeled inactive voters—have been resolved. Gabriel Di Chiara, chief deputy secretary of state, claims that early voting starting on Saturday, October 19, has seen only isolated incidents.

State documents indicate that Nevada has invested $30 million in the system’s development, and county clerks conducted four mock elections this year to troubleshoot issues before rollout. However, critics like Burgess remain unconvinced.

“The lesser of the two risks was getting everyone on the new system and providing them support,” Di Chiara said, noting that Washoe County’s previous voter management vendor had ceased support, creating risks in retaining the old system.

The transition’s timing has drawn scrutiny, as Nevada’s swing-state status means any voter database errors could raise election integrity concerns. Election experts stated that Nevada had invested considerable time and resources into the rollout, yet advised that successful implementation relies heavily on adequate local office staffing and funding.

Burgess describes her role as a transparent advocate for voters, claiming she rigorously investigated complaints from voters across the political spectrum. Her actions also garnered attention from the Republican National Committee, which has requested documentation on the state’s mock elections, citing concerns over transparency and functionality.

According to a letter from Washoe County, her administrative leave stemmed from alleged insubordination, failure to meet a federal deadline for updating inactive voter rolls, and reportedly excessive overtime use. In her defense, Burgess says she only intended to correct errors and offered to return to her former role as deputy registrar when faced with challenges. Additionally, she asserts her support for churches seeking to facilitate ballot drop-offs complies with Nevada’s rules on third-party ballot collection.

As the general election approaches, Washoe County spokespersons assert that all outstanding data transfer issues are resolved, while Burgess contends that many problems remain underreported.

Washoe County continues to face scrutiny and leadership problems as County Manager Eric Brown begins a planned month-long medical leave, with Assistant County Manager Dave Solaro temporarily stepping in.

The absence of Brown follows the forced medical leave of Interim Registrar of Voters Cari Ann Burgess, who is filing a lawsuit against the county this week, adding to ongoing challenges for election oversight.

County spokesperson Bethany Drysdale confirmed Brown’s medical leave was for a pre-arranged procedure, noting, “Assistant County Manager Dave Solaro is acting manager while he is out.”

Drysdale also raised eyebrows by suggesting that “a male commissioner” might provide additional insight, sparking confusion, as the media received no “heads-up.”

Commissioner Mike Clark, the only male commissioner, responded by disputing knowledge or involvement.

“Since I am the only male commissioner, how dare she accuse me of anything without absolute personal knowledge,” Clark said. “She is speculating.”

With the County Manager and Interim Registrar of Voters out, Washoe County’s preparation for the election is under particular focus because it could play a pivotal role in the presidential and Senate races.

Nevada Governor Joe Lombardo announced the activation of the National Guard personnel to support public safety on Election Day.

The decision will see 60 members of the National Guard stationed in Carson City and Las Vegas on standby to assist state and local resources as necessary on Tuesday, November 5.

“As a first responder, I know first-hand the importance of being prepared, and this decision reflects my commitment to safety and preparedness on Election Day,” Lombardo said. “As always, I am deeply grateful to the men and women of our National Guard, and I appreciate their service to our state and country.”

National Guard members will remain on standby at designated facilities and assist law enforcement agencies if additional support is required. Their duties may include traffic management, building security, and ensuring clear lines of communication throughout the state.

Secretary of State Francisco V. Aguilar expressed his support for the activation.

“I share Governor Lombardo’s commitment to safety, preparedness, and transparency,” Aguilar said. “This proactive decision helps ensure that we’ve made the most of our available resources across Nevada. Our election officials and law enforcement leaders have been preparing for the November 5 election for years. This frees up their resources on Election Day so they can focus on delivering a safe and secure election.”

I wonder what Joe knows but ain’t saying.

The digital clock beside my bed read 4 a.m. I got up to shower when my wife told me it was only 2 a.m. I returned to bed. Two hours later, I awoke again and climbed from between the blankets.

It is a time when the veil between the world of waking and the world of dreams seemed thin–an hour of dislocation, where sleep clung to the edges of the consciousness like an ill-fitting coat. I could hear the wind, low and murmuring like a thing alive. Yet, there was nothing particularly unusual about the hour, where strange and inexplicable happenings sometimes disturbed the town and, in the end, were no more stranger than the winds that swept through the narrow streets at night.

Still, I lay in bed for a moment longer, staring at the dim shadows of my room, unsure if I was truly awake. The sensation passed quickly enough, and I swung my feet over the edge of my bed, feeling the cold floorboards press against the soles of my feet. My limbs were stiff, as though I had been asleep far longer than I should have been, but the feeling of disorientation was nothing new.

I padded across the room and to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, my mind still dulled by sleep’s lingering influence. The clock on the kitchen wall, a weathered, antique piece I had inherited from my late father, ticked steadily in the background. I reached for the sponge I had used the night before to clean the dishes. It lay on the sink edge, still damp but not yellow as it had been. No, now it was blue, an unnatural, unsettling shade of blue, a color I could not place. I stared at it for a long moment, trying to make sense of the shift, but my mind only floundered in the fog of confusion.

I had been sure the sponge had been yellow the night before–so sure that I had noticed how it glowed under the dim kitchen light as I had used it. But now it was pale, sickly blue, as though something had taken it, twisted it inside-out, and returned it to the sink under a different guise. I picked it up gingerly, turning it over in my hands. It felt the same, yet–not the same. The fibers were slightly stiffer, as though they had dried under unnatural conditions.

A wave of dizziness struck me, and I put the sponge down quickly. Something was wrong. I glanced at the clock again. It still read 4 a.m. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had slipped, had shifted. I couldn’t put it into words, but the certainty gnawed at me like an ache in my chest.

I walked to the front door, hoping fresh air would clear my mind. But as I opened it, I was greeted by a scene that, in its banality, was somehow more disturbing than any of the eldritch horrors that I had feared might lurk in the recesses of my thoughts.

They covered the street.

Mice. Dozens, if not hundreds, scurrying in every direction. Their small, fur-covered bodies twisted and convulsed, darting between the cracks in the boardwalk, squeezing under doorways, and even climbing the walls of nearby houses. The long-familiar frogs croaking was replaced by the sharp, skittering sound of tiny claws on stone.

I had lived through the plague of frogs–a bizarre infestation that had been almost too biblical to believe–but this was something worse. The mice were not mere pests. They were wrong. They moved with an intelligence, a feverish urgency, that sent a shiver up my spine. And their eyes–oh, God, their eyes–glowed faintly in the half-light, a sickly greenish hue that seemed to reflect something deeper, something ancient, in the void of the universe.

I stumbled back into the house, slamming the door behind me. My heart pounded in my chest. I could still hear them outside, their frantic scurrying growing louder, more intense. The wind, which had seemed to murmur before, now howled as though it were trying to speak to me, urging me to listen, to understand. But I couldn’t. I could not make sense of any of it.

I felt unmoored, adrift in a sea of half-remembered dreams and altered perceptions. The sponge, the mice, the clock pointed to something shifting beneath the surface of my reality, something I could neither comprehend nor escape.

Had I, too, shifted? Was this still my town? Was this still my life?

I turned back toward the kitchen, where the blue sponge lay on the sink. It was no longer the same.

The fabric of my existence felt altered, twisted like the sponge in my hand, changing in ways I could not fully grasp. What had happened to me? To all of us? Was this a waking dream, or had I truly crossed into a world where the laws of nature no longer apply?

Outside, the wind screamed again, and in that howl, I thought I heard something worse than the scraping of mice claws.

It was a whisper.

A voice from beyond.

And it spoke my name.

Nevada is at the center of competitive races that could determine control of the White House, the U.S. Senate, and significant statewide policies. It is also one of ten states where voters will weigh in on a high-profile ballot measure related to abortion in the wake of the U.S. Supreme Court’s 2022 decision to overturn Roe v. Wade.

In Nevada’s presidential and Senate races, the stakes are high. While Nevada has only six electoral votes, it holds a vital position as a battleground state, and its bellwether status makes it a coveted win for both parties. The state has a track record for picking the winner in 27 of the last 30 presidential elections.

Democratic Vice President Kamala Harris and Republican former President Donald Trump have made multiple campaign stops here, and their campaigns regard Nevada as crucial for victory. In the Senate race, Democratic incumbent Jacky Rosen is defending her seat against Republican Sam Brown, a retired Army captain who previously ran for Nevada’s other Senate seat. With the Senate narrowly divided, this race could be pivotal for either party’s control.

Nevada voters face three significant ballot questions with implications beyond the state.

The first ballot measure seeks to enshrine the right to abortion in the Nevada constitution, a move prompted by Dobbs v. Jackson, which returned abortion laws to the states. The measure may draw in younger and independent voters, making the race all the more critical.

Another ballot question proposes a requirement for photo identification to vote. The measure is framed by advocates as necessary for election security but criticized by opponents who argue it could limit access for some voters.

The third measure would implement ranked-choice voting with a top-five primary system. Supporters believe ranked-choice voting could encourage less extreme candidates by expanding voter choice, potentially reducing polarization in the state’s elections.

Demographically, Nevada is ethnically and economically diverse, with large Latino, union, working-class, and rural populations. Democrats have traditionally relied on winning urban Clark County, home to Las Vegas, and Washoe County, home to Reno, while Republicans have maintained strongholds in rural counties. Republicans have recently made inroads among independent and Latino voters by tapping into concerns about inflation, education, and public safety.

Campaign dynamics have intensified, with both parties investing heavily in Nevada. Harris’s campaign has focused on healthcare, economic support, climate change, and reproductive rights, aiming to galvanize Democratic base voters in the urban centers. Trump’s campaign, meanwhile, has centered on economic concerns, conservative values, and issues of inflation and crime, emphasizing outreach in rural areas and among swing voters.

The Senate race, too, reflects the intensity of this contest. Jacky Rosen’s re-election bid against decorated Army veteran Sam Brown is considered a battle for Senate control. Brown’s campaign emphasizes national security and fiscal conservatism, while Rosen appeals to the Democratic base, focusing on healthcare, reproductive rights, and economic protections for working families.

Nevada conducts most of its voting by mail—a system made permanent in 2021 with a law that mandates ballots be sent automatically to active registered voters. While mail-in voting accounts for a substantial portion, with about 80 percent of voters casting ballots by mail or early in the 2022 midterms, many still prefer to vote in person. Nevada law allows the counting of ballots if postmarked by Election Day and if they arrive within four days after, delaying the outcome if races are close, a trend relevant in recent Democratic-leaning mail ballot counts.

With its long history as a bellwether state, Nevada’s election results indicate national trends. Over the last four presidential elections, Democrats have won in Nevada, and Harris’s campaign is pushing to extend that streak. However, with Republicans increasing their appeal in parts of the state, particularly among independents and rural voters, Nevada’s margins could indicate broader political trends.

Down-ballot races will also shape Nevada’s future, as voters will elect candidates for U.S. House seats, state Senate and Assembly positions, the state Supreme Court, and local county commissions. These down-ballot decisions could significantly affect local governance and state policies on education, public safety, and economic issues.

Nevada has no automatic recount law, but candidates may request a recount within three days of the canvass, regardless of the vote margin. If recounts occur, especially in the event of close races, results could be subject to additional delays. Given the state’s record of razor-thin margins and prolonged counting, recounts remain possible as mail-in votes get counted.

Nevada is at the center of competitive races that could determine control of the White House, the U.S. Senate, and significant statewide policies. It is also one of ten states where voters will weigh in on a high-profile ballot measure related to abortion in the wake of the U.S. Supreme Court’s 2022 decision to overturn Roe v. Wade.

In Nevada’s presidential and Senate races, the stakes are high. While Nevada has only six electoral votes, it holds a vital position as a battleground state, and its bellwether status makes it a coveted win for both parties. The state has a track record for picking the winner in 27 of the last 30 presidential elections.

Democratic Vice President Kamala Harris and Republican former President Donald Trump have made multiple campaign stops here, and their campaigns regard Nevada as crucial for victory. In the Senate race, Democratic incumbent Jacky Rosen is defending her seat against Republican Sam Brown, a retired Army captain who previously ran for Nevada’s other Senate seat. With the Senate narrowly divided, this race could be pivotal for either party’s control.

Nevada voters face three significant ballot questions with implications beyond the state.

The first ballot measure seeks to enshrine the right to abortion in the Nevada constitution, a move prompted by Dobbs v. Jackson, which returned abortion laws to the states. The measure may draw in younger and independent voters, making the race all the more critical.

Another ballot question proposes a requirement for photo identification to vote. The measure is framed by advocates as necessary for election security but criticized by opponents who argue it could limit access for some voters.

The third measure would implement ranked-choice voting with a top-five primary system. Supporters believe ranked-choice voting could encourage less extreme candidates by expanding voter choice, potentially reducing polarization in the state’s elections.

Demographically, Nevada is ethnically and economically diverse, with large Latino, union, working-class, and rural populations. Democrats have traditionally relied on winning urban Clark County, home to Las Vegas, and Washoe County, home to Reno, while Republicans have maintained strongholds in rural counties. Republicans have recently made inroads among independent and Latino voters by tapping into concerns about inflation, education, and public safety.

Campaign dynamics have intensified, with both parties investing heavily in Nevada. Harris’s campaign has focused on healthcare, economic support, climate change, and reproductive rights, aiming to galvanize Democratic base voters in the urban centers. Trump’s campaign, meanwhile, has centered on economic concerns, conservative values, and issues of inflation and crime, emphasizing outreach in rural areas and among swing voters.

The Senate race, too, reflects the intensity of this contest. Jacky Rosen’s re-election bid against decorated Army veteran Sam Brown is considered a battle for Senate control. Brown’s campaign emphasizes national security and fiscal conservatism, while Rosen appeals to the Democratic base, focusing on healthcare, reproductive rights, and economic protections for working families.

Nevada conducts most of its voting by mail—a system made permanent in 2021 with a law that mandates ballots be sent automatically to active registered voters. While mail-in voting accounts for a substantial portion, with about 80 percent of voters casting ballots by mail or early in the 2022 midterms, many still prefer to vote in person. Nevada law allows the counting of ballots if postmarked by Election Day and if they arrive within four days after, delaying the outcome if races are close, a trend relevant in recent Democratic-leaning mail ballot counts.

With its long history as a bellwether state, Nevada’s election results indicate national trends. Over the last four presidential elections, Democrats have won in Nevada, and Harris’s campaign is pushing to extend that streak. However, with Republicans increasing their appeal in parts of the state, particularly among independents and rural voters, Nevada’s margins could indicate broader political trends.

Down-ballot races will also shape Nevada’s future, as voters will elect candidates for U.S. House seats, state Senate and Assembly positions, the state Supreme Court, and local county commissions. These down-ballot decisions could significantly affect local governance and state policies on education, public safety, and economic issues.

Nevada has no automatic recount law, but candidates may request a recount within three days of the canvass, regardless of the vote margin. If recounts occur, especially in the event of close races, results could be subject to additional delays. Given the state’s record of razor-thin margins and prolonged counting, recounts remain possible as mail-in votes get counted.

In a contentious lead-up to the November presidential election, Washoe County’s interim registrar of voters, Cari-Ann Burgess, claims she was forced out of her role by county management just weeks before the high-stakes contest.

Burgess, who led election operations in northern Nevada’s politically significant Washoe County, disputes the official narrative that she requested medical leave due to stress, stating she was pressured to submit the leave request in writing despite her desire to continue.

Her departure has further unsettled the county, impacted by ongoing election irregularities.

Since 2020, Washoe County has seen high turnover in election staff, with Burgess being the fifth person to hold the registrar role within four years. At a recent county commission meeting, officials reiterated the stance that Burgess voluntarily sought leave, a claim Burgess disputes. She has since retained legal counsel to explore her options.

Burgess described her sudden removal as unexpected, given recent praise for her performance. She believes the pressure to leave stemmed from her resistance to personnel changes within her department, including a proposal to reassign some of her election staff while maintaining their presence within the office. She said these changes would limit her ability to oversee their roles, an idea she refused to accept.

Washoe County’s election climate has remained tense, with ongoing demands from a vocal public to hand-count votes and install additional measures against voter fraud. During primary elections earlier this year, the county’s commission initially voted not to certify results, later reversing the decision but raising concerns among election office staff.