Welcome to the increasingly rocky reign of Crooked Jeffrey.
Even Donald Trump had a better week than our increasingly out of touch, cash-obsessed and graft-ridden Ceausescu fetishist. I hear Joseph Kabila is a free agent; maybe with a bit of added TIF funding, Gahan can outbid LeBron’s resurgent Lakers and put the idle Congolese strongman in charge of Fairview Cemetery.
Take it away, Mr. Gillenwater.
More tales from Corruption Junction. As Roger previously noted about NA’s blatant nepotism as normalcy, “If you believe that Warren Nash on the Human Rights Commission somehow differs from Scott Pruitt in charge of the EPA, please drop me a line. You’ll be entered into a drawing, and the lucky winner gets to serve with Gahan’s brother-in-law on the City-County Building Authority, or with the mayor’s son-in-law on Flood Control, or with his daughters at their summer jobs at the Aquatic Center — or maybe I’m thinking about former redevelopment director Duggins’ sister married to consultant Wheatley who gets all the posh the redevelopment gigs, or the HWC Engineering connection with Dugout …” Occasionally, you might be tempted to think they’ve bottomed out, that it can’t get any worse. You’d be wrong, not least because you’re likely forgetting the pride expressed by the Gahan administration in finding novel ways of circumventing public bidding laws so that donors are rewarded with lucrative city contracts much more directly. If you support or profit from this ongoing Democratic boondoggle here at home, you’re cordially invited to STFU about Trump and corruption elsewhere.
Yes, Dear Leader is your cross to bear, local Democrats. Even by Jeff Gahan’s subterranean standards of casual fraudulence and wagon-circling paranoia, it was a memorable week, one filled to the brim with reasons to #FireGahan2019.
On Monday, a skateboarder was killed by a driver on Spring Street. Predictably the driver won’t be charged, and City Hall’s first and only reaction has been to loudly deny responsibility for its own high-speed, pass-through street grid, followed immediately by the pitter-patter of tiny bureaucratic feet scampering into the safety of the down-low bunker.
After dragging his feet for years, and lately feeling the heat from local activists who look to Jeffersonville’s Republican mayor Mike Moore as an area leader in fairness, a petulant Gahan finally got around to making his appointments to New Albany’s moribund Human Rights Commission, which Gahan’s crack team of bootlickers previously had engineered to be impotent-by-design.
Surveying a diverse rainbow-accented landscape, Gahan predictably opted for two old, straight, white males with the requisite ironclad DemoDisneyDixiecratic Party credentials: Warren Nash and Cliff Staten. They’ll be expected to maintain control, because a truly autonomous Human Rights Commission would be working overtime just investigating Team Gahan.
Gahan’s hostile takeover of the New Albany Housing Authority came back to bite the colonial overlord, as the mayor’s handpicked team of clueless but servile lackeys heaved, flailed and looked like a motley crew of rejects at the Keystone Kops audition in reaction to the failure of the electrical system at Riverview Towers. The community’s eyebrows arched as Gahan’s dimmer-than-ever bulbs, previously billed as managerial geniuses, frantically blamed others for their own failure to be pro-active.
Speaking of the housing authority, sitting councilman Matt Nash, son of Warren the Party Fixer, whose sworn duty as an elected official is to scrutinize matters precisely like the mayor’s NAHA annexation, has accepted a paying job there, and now answers to grape-stuffed satrap David Duggins, whom the councilman should be pursuing for gross incompetence. Failed Tom Hagen wannabe Shane Gibson has merely waved his arms and dismissed the obvious conflict of interest.
And, the grandiosely titled Mt. Tabor Road Restoration and Pedestrian Safety Project — known colloquially as Gahan’s Folly — hit the rocks yet again as residents began firing back in court over the issue of eminent domain. Pliable lickspittles were trotted out to speak indecipherable platitudes, and Gahan remained shielded from view, suckling a Bud Light Lime and calculating campaign finance proceeds.
After all, that’s why he’s here, right?