A few weeks ago I took a trip to the beach. It was depressing near the Santa Monica pier, which has turned into a homeless enclave. Here’s a man sleeping, here’s another man sleeping, and here’s one folding up his tent. The expressions on their faces were heartbreaking, a mix of bewilderment, anger and worry. It’s a testament to the city’s privileged leadership. I could just see Mayor Eric Garcetti talking to one of the homeless:
Sorry dude, you were born to the wrong person. My dad's Gil Garcetti. He was politically connected, so I get to be mayor. Your parents were nobodies, so you’re a bum. You never heard of my dad Gil? How dare you? He rose to prominence by hogging the camera after his office botched the O.J. Simpson murder trial. So I live like a king, and you live like this.
Who am I kidding; Mr. Garcetti would never lower himself to talk to a homeless person. He reportedly wastes $30 million of city funds each year to harass the homeless, and he compared them to horseshit.
