as they sense a certain reality that cannot be spoken of for a variety of political, or cultural reasons. (…)
I drove from Peppderdine to Fresno on Friday and tried to tune into local radio stations as they came in and went out of range. As I left the LA basin, went into the San Fernando Valley, descended into Bakersfield, passed through Delano, and whizzed on by Visalia, there was a disturbing pattern.
In every on-the-half-hour news flash, some illegal alien or gang member was announced as wanted for hit-and-run/drunk driving, or arrested for gang shootings, or suspected of some sort of theft or armed robbery.
At these moments I was looking around at hundreds of cars in the three lanes of freeways (yes, in the pouring rain), and wondering whether they too were listening to these frightening news accounts—and wondering about the billions of dollars necessary to offer emergency room surgeries, rehab, and follow ups, legal bills to try, defend, sentence, jail, and release such felons, and the tab for providing interpreters and entitlement support for dependents of such criminals.
And then I remembered that even to cite the above is to incur the charge of racism or illiberality. Strange times.