What’s the point of public comment?
I mean, I know... but still.
Today, the San Diego Board of Supervisors are meeting to consider policy changes that will limit disruptive conduct at public meetings. This decision comes after last week’s incredible display of human ugliness when, during open comment at a board meeting, “comedian”/walking Youtube comment section Jason Robo took the mic and told Supervisor Nathan Fletcher to kill himself, made fun of Supervisor Nora Vargas’ weight and then used a racial slur against Public Health Director Dr. Wilma Wooten, a Black woman.
Do I even need to mention that this was during a meeting about vax mandates?
Since the onset of COVID, an increasingly angry public has turned local government and school board meetings into their own personal Two Minutes Hate. We’ve seen the sunburned Matt Baker go viral for screaming “hail Fauci!” Then Let Them Breathe—a San Diego-based group of anti-maskers and anti-vaxxers—shut down a Vista Unified school board meeting back in August. A few weeks after that, the same group staged a pathetic coup in the Poway Unified School Board meeting, declaring themselves the new school board (Ron Howard voice: They are not the new school board).
These are all just in the San Diego area. This shit is going on all over the country, which has led public health officials and other civil servants to retire in droves (as documented by This American Life). While I give major props to Supervisor Nora Vargas who intervened during Robo’s racist remarks (“You are not allowed to talk to her that way. Not under my fucking watch!”), I don’t think it’s enough to curb this harmful behavior. People are just getting angrier, and one day it’s going to become violent.
All of this raises the question: what is the point of public comment?
Just to be clear, it’s a rhetorical question. Don’t lawsplain me. I know about The Brown Act and government transparency. I get it: power to the people, open government and [sarcastic voice] “democracy”—they all rely on healthy dissent.
But there are so many methods of getting your voice heard without resorting to the sideshow spectacle of public comments: emails, phone calls, letters, protests, grassroots organizing, tweets—you name it.
Even before COVID, anyone who’s sat through or watched a city council meeting can attest to how rambly, unfocused, esoteric and self-centered people can get when they step in front of the mic. I’m not saying that there’s no value in public comments, but to use a stupid term, the ROI is weak. In fact, I think the best parts of Parks and Recreation were how accurately it portrayed public meetings.
And that’s public comment on a good day. At its worst, the platform provides a self-perpetuating megaphone for anger and hatred. Even though anti-vaxxers are the minority, it’s easy to forget that when their voices are the loudest. In the face of a message so vitriolic, I doubt any rational person is inspired to go down to ye olde council meeting to provide a counterargument. As a good friend pointed out, when the anger becomes homogenized, the normies stay home, and what we get is not so much a public discourse, but a public flogging.
A few weeks ago, news came to light that Death Science—an act associated with the Curiosities and Oddities Expo—offered convention goers the opportunity to watch a live autopsy, with tickets of the event reaching upwards of $500. Five hundred buckaroos to watch a corpse get dissected. They even advertised a lunch break.
Now, I’m as morbidly curious as the next black T-shirt wearer, but there’s something about paying top dollar for a public dissection of a human body that seems kind of... well, it seems kind of medieval.
Do you think at any point during the public autopsy, someone looked around and asked “What are we doing here? What, exactly, is the point of all of this?”
I know we’re not going to get rid of public comment, just like I know you can’t prevent chuds from paying top dollar to see a human body sliced up for entertainment. But whether it’s a literal or figurative vivisection—which essentially is what these Board of Supervisors meetings are turning into—it feels like we’re turning back the clock, and the barbarians are winning.
AWKSD GUEST LIST SHOWS
The Guest List gives paying AWKSD subscribers the opportunity to see live music for free, because there’s no better phrase than “I’m on the list.”
Saturday, Nov. 13
Argonaut & Wasp @ Soda Bar: You know that Empire of the Sun song, “Walking on a Dream”? I can’t get enough of that song. It’s been around for well over a decade, but every time I hear it, it manages to unlock something in me. I think I just have a soft spot for dancy indie songs with sad undertones. Now, imagine a band creating an entire catalog of songs that sound like that, and you’ll get Argonaut & Wasp. It’s fun but sad, and just a little romantic.
If you want to see this show, just reply to this email. First come, first served. And even if you think you’ve missed the window, it never hurts to ask.
THE WEEKLY GOODS
Go to this
Hey ma, I’m an artist! This week, I’ll be part of a galaxy-themed art show/performance called GALEXY. Curated and organized by artist and musician Alexandra Pratt, the “intergalactic art show and dance party” will feature works by many talented artists (including Katie Carrion, Foxine Jay, and May Star) and live music performances by Riston Diggs. My piece is called “Googling the size of the universe” (pictured above), and you can buy it if you’re into stuff like excellent art. GALEXY happens this Thursday, November 11 at Kensington Club. $10 at the door. It’s going to be [my brain: don’t do it, Ryan, don’t do it] out of this world!
Listen to this
Last week, San Diego musician and resin art extraordinaire Shelby Wentz helped me determine whether or not Red Hot Chili Peppers were a good band. What we failed to mention was that we’re in a band together called Forest Grove. However, since COVID has put a hold on that, Shelby and Forest Grove shredder Zack Wentz have been hard at work creating some truly punishing doom metal under the name Maskull. It’s lo-fi, nasty, and evil af. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.
Get tix to this
Elvis Costello is one of our best songwriters, full stop. I would even go so far as to say pop-punk would not exist without him. He’s playing at The Magnolia in El Cajon on Thursday, November 11. This is going down the same night that you should be at Kensington Club, looking at my beautiful alien art, but I’ll make an exception if you miss it to see Elvis Costello.
Got a tip or wanna say hi? Email me at ryancraigbradford@gmail.com, or follow me on Twitter @theryanbradford. And if you like what you’ve just read, please hit that little heart icon at the end of the post.