Comments
ERIC PREVEN'S NOTEBOOK - A neighbor posted a clip of Paul Krekorian puffing himself up at a Neighborhood Council meeting. You know the genre: “Under no circumstances will this horrendous idea ever see the light of day.” He said it, into a microphone, in a public meeting, in front of dozens of witnesses.
Nextdoor moderators took it down. Reason? “Shaming.” Appeal denied.
Nextdoor doesn’t want you to see…the truth.
This is how it works now. Putin doesn’t let you call the Ukraine war a war. At City Hall, Harris-Dawson wants to ban the N-word and the C-word — as if South Park’s billion-dollar free-speech fund couldn’t mock that kind of moralizing. Woke people have their no-say list, anti-woke people have theirs. And here in Studio City, you can’t suggest Paul Krekorian contradicted himself on development.
Everybody’s dictionary is sacred — and everybody else is a violator.
But let’s give Nextdoor credit: their censorship is efficient. Why bother with gulags when you can just hide a post and send a perky notification? Meanwhile, they’ll let sketchy “suspicious person” posts — often thinly veiled racial alarms — sail through. But a video of a councilmember’s public performance? That’s “shaming.”
They pulled down a CityWatch criticizing their censorship.
Insane. Pathetic.
Russia censors The Wire until Omar’s entire character makes no sense. Here, a land-use remark by Krekorian is treated like a state secret.
If Russians need VPNs to see uncut television, Angelenos need screenshots to glimpse what their own councilmembers said out loud.
Screenshots are the new samizdat.
Safety (and fundraising) first.
Smart Speaker (General Public Comment):
Learned today in the big splashy cover story on Casey Wasserman that there’s a forty-million-dollar Melania doc that Brett Ratner is making—Jeff Bezos’ way of bowing to the president. Wasn’t Ratner canceled?
And who’s floating all this? Hollywood Reporter, proving once again they will stoop as low as necessary to keep things moving. The “Lord of the Rings” puff piece with Adam Silver—yes, the NBA jefe, the commissioner himself—in the role of Casey Wasserman’s best bud should be entered into a new Nobel category to be formally announced at the Nobel Peace Prize (cringe here) ceremony: Best Press Release Masquerading as Journalism.
Mr. Wasserman, who is ambitious, but not as ambitious as the genius who drove him to take on the Olympics, in upscale sneakers:
By wearing light colored athletic shoes, Wasserman is deftly pleading with liberals: trust me, I’m just like you. Except he’s not. He’s the Olympics guy. He’s the guy who needs you to believe it’s all fine while the Appeals Court in New York tosses Trump’s half-billion-dollar fine in civil fraud.
Wasserman et al. at Mar- REDACTED
You’re off topic.
My point is that Trump will be relieved, and with his free time, he’ll resume micromanaging L.A.’s… Branding 
Worst Nightmare
If, like me, you prefer local pointless hostility, you can always name-sponsor the Crowley v. Mayor Bass litigation. Legal bills will be chewed through like popcorn. Our fire chief has proven that if she fought fires as well as she teed up her employment lawsuit, lives and property would have been saved.
Me? When I’m dead and gone, I don’t expect much. Not a village like Hilda Solis. Not a Gas Tower like Lindsey Horvath. But if there’s a way my many fans can arrange a statue of me at Universal Studios Florida—ideally next to Lew Wasserman—that would be something.
Sometimes, Los Angeles serves up such a rich portfolio of icky items, it makes you dream of old New York.
Smart Speaker: I thought the New York Post was coming to LA?
It matters less as the de-evolution continues. I heard there was a major ChatGPT crash trying to crunch all of Eric Adams’ alleged wrongdoing into a manageable format.
So, both coasts, adrift, and Texas in a new “how low can you go” redistricting fight on behalf of who?
The New Yorker cartoon, marking the end of summer and civilization, nailed it. 
Today’s headline: someone in Mayor Adams’ orbit tipping a reporter with a C-note.
Jonathan Groat, Deputy City Attorney: Sir, you’re disrupting the meeting. You cannot say the C-word under Rule 7. This is your first and final—
Smart Speaker: I said C-note. One hundred bucks.
Jonathan Groat, Deputy City Attorney: Please continue.
Smart Speaker: And the New York Times wrote that Ms. Greco’s lawyer, Steven Brill, defended it: in Chinese culture, handing cash to a reporter in a bag of potato chips can be a “gesture of friendship and gratitude.” Brill admitted it looks odd, but insisted it was innocent. Misconstrued. Apologetic. Embarrassed.
I’ll yield my time on that one, sir, but what was the recommendation on Wednesday for item 55, Option one in the July 11, city attorney report?
Official Nextdoor Guidelines™ (Drafted in Moscow, Edited in Silicon Valley)
Article 1: All public officials are private figures. Criticism = shaming. Shaming = banned.
Article 2: Truth is subjective. If your truth embarrasses a councilmember, please select “Duplicate / Incorrect Info” as your reason for existing.
Article 3: Nithya Raman’s kitchen, gleaming in her McMansion permit that adds no housing? An ADU or triplex? Not in her backyard. Photos of stoves are contraband. Too creepy.
Article 4: Words must be respectful. Respectful means not mentioning oversized housing, developer checks, or anyone’s McMansion.
Article 5: If you disagree with a moderator named [REDACTED], you are automatically in violation.
Smart Speaker Friday Preview:
Though you don’t see them printed anywhere, there’s always a back channel buzzing with Friday’s presentation list. The public doesn’t get it, but the entities are contacted, the calls go out, the LAPD checks the names like stage managers. While it looks spontaneous, it’s as rehearsed as the Rockettes.
Now, today’s agenda: Items 1 through 11 are closed. The only thing open is Item 12 — we’ll get to that. But first, let’s talk about Wednesday’s closed session, where you came back with the magic phrase: “No reportable action.”
That’s not transparency — that’s camouflage. Because the case you buried, Stephen Paper v. City of Los Angeles, is no minor fender bender. It’s a pricey collision course. Two older men, Stephen and Richard Paper, were t-boned in Encino by an LAPD cruiser reportedly flying at 80 miles an hour. No lights. No sirens. No emergency. Just speed.
The result? Serious injuries, a negligence suit, and a City on the hook for millions. Past LAPD crash payouts have run from $3 million to $9 million. This one could balloon. The defense line so far — that maybe the plaintiffs are exaggerating — is laughable. Unless the City’s discovered these two men were stunt drivers, it won’t play with a jury.
So when you come out and say “no reportable action,” what the public hears is: We’re writing another check with your money, and we’d rather not discuss it. That’s why we need a body cam on the City Attorney, so we can watch the shrug when he delivers the line.
Now — Item 12, the Warner Grand. Admiral McOsker of the One-Five, thank you for securing $14.75 million. A drip in the bucket. But it still leaves a tasty $6.4 million shortfall. And Commander, between friends, we know it isn’t just six million — it’s $25 million to finish this voyage.
So Cap’n, where’s that money coming from? CRA bond crumbs? MICLA sleight-of-hand? Or the cash register at the Olympic sailing venue — buy a churro, save a theater?
Eight months into construction, costs have doubled, the horizon drifts, and San Pedro waits ashore. Thank you for the drip, Cap’n. But the bucket has a hole in it, and the ship still needs $25 million before she sails again.
