Clouds to the left of me, chokers to the right, here I am. Stuck in the piddle with you.

Top of the morning gents,

*Quick data set check: Bush alcohol stats

20: Number of damp communities, which ban alcohol
sales but allow possession and importation

82: Number of dry communities, which ban possession,
sales and importation

Wet communities do not impose restrictions.

51: Number of communities with village public safety
officers

Sources: The Department of Public Safety and the
Alcoholic Beverage Control Board.


*Y'all remember the Billy Howarth murder trial?

Shit, even a full shred guitar song was written about
that cadavre pork and crap smear, "Billy Howarth is
gonna fry" (S. Wade).

Turds don't fall too far from the abby, and Billy's
boy is now incarcerated for crimes disturbuingly
similar to dead stump porking he himself is famous
for: stabbing native trash.

Inbred dude man Atoruk from Kiana, and cross-eyed
dullard Kingeak from Kotz. are now breathing through
new holes in the chest and neck, comps Billy Howarth
Jr. AKA poop dick.

My favorite clerk at the Carr's liquor store on
Boniface and DeBarr, an elderly chunky white gal from
the South, asked me what in God's name is up this
week. These last 3 days, Mon-Wed, March 20-22, she's
sold more fucking booze than any day since last
Christmas and New Years.

Also, during these same 3 days, she's had a "shit load
of natives arrested for shoplifting, concealing merch,
and chugging 40's in the back of the cooler." "If they
ban the sale of alcohol in their home villages, why
can't I ban the sale of alcohol these 'people' here in
town?"

God bless that woman. Hey fuck you, I'm aware of
candid racism, you oughta be aware of it too.

If we can chuckle at Quentin Tarrantino and Spike Lee
movies, you can chew a little on my daily am cop talk
newsletters rife with language only yer grandpa would
bust a gut over, perchance even cough up his uppers.

All day long I drive around Anchoragua visiting white
trash, native trash and avoiding Nigerian Candidates.
Me bunnik and I have dropped in on all black dude drug
houses only to be greeted with stereotypically cold,
hard and dead negro stares all us non-niggars know all
too well.

"If looks could kill they probably will in games
without frontiers, war without fears" (P. Gabriel).

Best way to track drug biz is too simply provide
transpo between crack houses and package delivery
between good people. We're also awaiting a harvest of
chronic camouflaged right in the heart of Little
Galena, Mountain View: camouflaged only to non-members
of this cluster of buddies, pals and new-found
friends. Yuck.

Coinciding with this run on the liquor commodities
markets is an equivalent run on the less harmful
commodities: cocaine and bud. Buzzy as a bee, sort of.

March is the month of madness, so we should be sure to
leave lots of 20 foot sections of rope around. Most of
my targets kill themselves before this torpedo is
fully armed and functional.

Fuck, even before I get good and warmed up, yet saves
us a fortune in prosecutorial and jail storage costs.

Gentlemen, start yer engines but no racing for team
Bacardi. In other words, don't be going native on me.

Karl.

*Take a read, you may know these fudge packers.

---

Officers respond to multiple violent crimes

Tuesday, March 21, 2006 - by Sean Doogan

Anchorage, Alaska - A rash of violence kept Anchorage
police officers busy last night. Officials had to deal
with two shootings and two men were stabbed.

It began in Muldoon at around 7 p.m. and it ended in
downtown at 11 p.m. But for many officers with the
Anchorage Police Department, the four hours in between
kept them busy.

At a trailer park on the 7500 block of the Glenn
Highway, Anchorage police say 33-year-old Kristie
Weaver and her husband got in an argument. Officers
say Weaver shot her husband in the stomach with a
hunting rifle.

Weaver is being held at the Anchorage Jail, charged
with first-degree assault and fourth-degree misconduct
involving weapons. Her husband, whose name has not
been released, was operated on last night and is
listed in fair condition at an Anchorage hospital.

Three hours later, a teenaged boy was shot in the
ankle after leaving a hip-hop concert at the Alaska
Center for Performing Arts.

“There were multiple persons involved in a
disturbance. We don’t have any real clear indication
as to who started the altercation. We do know that
someone pulled a gun out and fired towards the
direction of the crowd and striking one person in the
ankle,” said APD Lt. Paul Honeman

The boy was treated and released from the hospital
last night. No one has been arrested in this incident.
As police investigated that shooting, they received
another call. This time a man was stabbed at the
downtown bus depot, located just a few blocks away.

Anchorage police and emergency medical technicians
aided 28-year-old John Kingeak. Kingeak and another
man, 45-year-old Charlie Atoruk, were both stabbed in
the chest while drinking with a third man at the
Valley of the Moon Park. Atoruk made it to a friend’s
house in Penland Park before calling an ambulance.
Kingeak and Atoruk were listed in stable condition at
an Anchorage hospital.

Police say William Howarth Jr. was found by an officer
looking in downtown bars shortly after they responded
to the bus depot. Now the 30-year-old is being held on
two charges of first-degree assault in connection with
that case. Howarth is being held in lieu of $25,000
cash bail.

“Alcohol played a big factor in all the violent
incidents from last night,” said Honeman.

For four hours last night, it was a booze-fueled
evening that kept Anchorage police busy. According to
Honeman, Atoruk was fighting with Howarth. When
Kingeak intervened, Howarth stabbed him and Atoruk in
the chest. Honeman says all three were heavily
intoxicated.

---

Study finds safety linked to liquor bans
VILLAGES: Study finds prohibition significantly trims
assaults, accidents.

By ALEX deMARBAN
Anchorage Daily News

Published: March 22, 2006
Last Modified: March 22, 2006 at 03:14 AM


Remote villages that ban alcohol are significantly
safer than those that don't, with fewer serious
assaults resulting in death or hospitalization,
according to a new study. Those same villages are even
safer when they have law enforcement officers, said
co-author Darryl Wood, of the University of Alaska
Anchorage's Justice Center.


The study, which examined death certificates and state
trauma records for 132 off-road villages between 1991
and 2000, comes as cash-starved communities fight to
keep local safety officers and grapple with questions
over alcohol policy.

The dry-versus-wet debate has long nagged rural
villages, but some residents say local law enforcement
is more important than whether a community is legally
wet or dry.

Key among the report's findings:

• Dry villages had 52 percent fewer serious assaults
than damp or wet villages.

• Dry villages with a police presence had 36 percent
fewer serious assaults than dry villages without a
police presence.

Alcohol has a long and troubled history in the Bush.
It has been linked to the large number of village
suicides, domestic violence, homicides and accidents
-- among the highest in the nation.

To stem the tide of liquor flowing to the Bush and to
decrease alcohol-related deaths and injuries, about 80
villages have capitalized on state laws passed in the
1980s allowing prohibition through local elections.

But villages often waver. Residents in Togiak and
Nulato, for example, are considering rolling back
local prohibition and permitting alcohol sales.

A citizens' effort to take Angoon from dry to damp
recently failed by a close margin.

Studies on American Indian reservations in the Lower
48 add to the uncertainty. They've shown that
suicides, homicides and motor-vehicle collisions are
higher on reservations that ban alcohol.

There's a reason for that, Wood said. People on
reservations have a relatively available supply of
alcohol from highway bootleggers. And when they get a
shipment, they binge-drink.

But prohibition is effective in Alaska's rural
communities, Wood said. In part, that's because
alcohol is harder to get -- it must be smuggled in by
plane or boat.

Also, residents in tight-knit communities like those
in the Bush take on bigger watchdog roles, said
co-author Paul Gruenewald with the California-based
Prevention Research Center. The center studies alcohol
and drug misuse around the nation with a focus on
prevention.

Still, many Alaska communities remain skeptical, and
only a handful of new villages have gone dry after the
big rush of the 1980s and 1990s, said Doug Griffin,
director of the state's Alcoholic Beverage Control
Board.

The beverage control board agrees that going dry
doesn't end a community's alcohol problems, Griffin
said. People who want a drink will find a way to get
it.

Still, prohibition is a step in the right direction,
he said. Communities that ban alcohol have tough
punishments for bootleggers and are generally safer
and healthier, he said.

Bethel's George Nicholai, who runs the village public
safety officer program in the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta,
said making alcohol possession against the law is
almost meaningless with so few lawmen in the Bush.

The VPSO program, the face of village law enforcement,
has dwindled over the last 12 years as the state has
scaled back money for the program. The number of
officers has fallen from 100 in 1994 to 51 today.

The shortage is especially acute in Western Alaska.
For example, there are 56 villages scattered across
the delta, but the state pays for only 20 officers
there, said Nicholai, who works for the Bethel-based
Association of Village Council Presidents.

Worse, because of low wages, only 14 villages have
filled their VPSO slots, Nicholai said. As a result,
bootleggers in the delta easily slip through the
chasms in the law enforcement net, he said.

The state is trying to improve the program and
recently gave new recruits a raise. They now make
$16.55 an hour. Regional Native nonprofit corporations
which administer the program can also chip in $2.50 an
hour to increase the pay to $19.05 an hour.

The state's median wage in 2004 was about $20 an hour,
usually for less demanding work.

The shortages are not just in Western Alaska. Only
about 75 of the state's 180 or so off-road villages
have a local police department, a public safety
officer or a troopers post, Wood said.

About 15 additional villages have a tribal officer,
but they may not be trained and can only make
citizen's arrests if they witness a crime, he said.
Wood and Gruenewald did not examine injuries or deaths
in those villages. They said records there were
inconsistent or nonexistent.

The remainder of the state's villages have no local
law enforcement. When major crimes occur, they wait
for state troopers to fly in from regional posts. That
can take hours and be extremely dangerous, Nicholai
said.

Last fall, troopers from Bethel chartered a flight to
Nunam Iqua, an unpoliced village near the Bering Sea,
to arrest a drunken man who terrorized residents with
a shotgun and raped a 13-year-old, Nicholai said. The
troopers didn't arrive for four hours.

Capt. John Glick, who coordinates the statewide VPSO
program for the Alaska State Troopers, said the state
has increased its law enforcement presence in Western
Alaska in the last two years. It has boosted trooper
numbers from about 40 to 48 and added two drug
investigators.

He said the state provides money for 59 VPSOs. But the
vacancies need to be filled before the division can
request money for more positions, he said.

The increased pay should help reduce turnover in the
VPSO program, said Valent Maxwell, who heads the
program for the Kodiak Area Native Association.

The association oversees six VPSO positions on Kodiak
Island and in Northwest Alaska, but only three are
filled, Maxwell said.

Whether communities go damp or dry is less important
to public safety than having a local officer, he said.

"The ordinances are only as good as your ability to
enforce them," he said.

In addition to fighting crime, village public safety
officers douse fires, coordinate rescues and
administer medical aid. They also encourage new safety
initiatives and enforce them, he said.

Maxwell speaks from experience. Until he was promoted
to the Kodiak office last May, he served as the public
safety officer in Old Harbor, a village of about 200
on the south side of Kodiak Island.

Community residents created a tribal court and passed
laws requiring children to wear helmets and life
jackets. Maxwell made the laws stick, but his efforts
unraveled after he left.

Kids in Old Harbor aren't wearing their helmets now
and they're speeding down trails on ATVs and
snowmachines, he said. Residents there are ecstatic
that a new safety officer will start April 10, he
said. But they're crossing their fingers that no one
gets hurt before then.