Bites to the future

Back to basics: Bites is a time-traveler. And a very half-assed one at that.

Because right now, all you future people are nursing post-election hangovers and/or parading around with your political enemies’ heads on sticks. At the same time, back here in the parallel universe of the very-near past, Bites is riding a hopeful little civic high, having just returned from the neighborhood polling place.

Polling place, you ask? Oh that’s right. Judging by Bites very unscientific sample, most of you future people—if you did vote at all—voted absentee.

Heed this voice from the very-near past, future readers. Do not abandon the polling place. Something bad will happen.

For example, Bites was sad to hear so many friends and co-workers blurt out things like, “Oh, I was supposed to vote ‘yes’ on that?” But too late, tragically, because they had already voted by mail one or more times. Such mistakes easily could have been avoided if these people had checked in with Bites before blowing their democratic wad.

The polling place is the temple of Democracy—even when it’s in some guy’s garage. Hell, especially when it’s in some guy’s garage. You have angered the gods of democracy, future people. In another day or so, Bites will see how they have repayed you.

Hacking for fun and profits: Because Bites’ amazing powers of reverse clairvoyance are so acute, it cannot yet be revealed how PG&E fared in its $11 million-plus bid to screw Yolo County out of its right to join SMUD.

But Bites predicts PG&E’s shady past will come back to haunt it.

For example, last week, the South San Joaquin Irrigation District filed a lawsuit against PG&E, claiming that the utility played dirty in its attempts to stop public power in San Joaquin County.

Last year, as reported in SN&R, an employee of the political-consulting firm then working for PG&E used a laptop with a Wi-Fi connection to download several sensitive documents related to the tiny irrigation district’s attempts to break away from PG&E.

It wasn’t exactly the Watergate break in—the consultant apparently was sitting in a public meeting at district headquarters, browsing unprotected district files at the time—but the lawsuit claims that PG&E acted “maliciously and fraudulently to oppress” the irrigation district, and the prospects for public power.

Despite many of the parallels between PG&E’s campaign in San Joaquin and the one here in Sacramento, the Sacramento Bee never bothered to report on any of it. It might have been good stuff for voters to know. But hey, hindsight is 20/20.

Pirate radio: And how about Republican Richard “Tricky-Dick” Mountjoy, hijacking free airtime for his anti-immigrant attack ads on several area radio stations on Monday—including, of all places, KDVS, the student-run station out of UC Davis.

On Monday morning, the Emergency Alert System sounded on KDVS and several other stations in the region.

That EAS signal comes from the conservative talk station KFBK, which is one of the designated EAS broadcasters for the region. At least a dozen stations in the Sacramento area are tuned to KFBK so that when the EAS signal is tested, the other stations pick up the feed. You’ve heard it a million times, that screechy alarm tone as the EAS message breaks into regular programming.

At around 10 on Monday morning—the day before the election—KDVS was in the middle of broadcasting a jazz and spoken-word set when that grating electronic buzz broke in.

But rather than going back to KDVS’ regularly scheduled programming, listeners were treated to this:

“It’s hard to believe, but since 9/11, more Americans have died at the hands of illegal aliens than died in the terrorist attacks and the war in Iraq combined.” It was a political attack ad for Mountjoy. The punchline, of course: “Dianne Feinstein wants open borders.”

“A lot of people called in. Many of our Latino listeners were pretty upset,” KDVS station manager Edward “Drake” Martinet explained.

KFBK never returned Bites’ call asking for an explanation. But Martinet said the station program director attributed the viral message to a “training error” and apologized. “I’d like to think this was just a mistake,” Martinet said, adding, “Mistakes happen at the worst times.”