”
Gloomy casino message delivered,
”
read the headline in a recent Hollister Free Lance front-page
article. As I read, I could not help but think about the 1959 movie
The Mouse that Roared.
“Gloomy casino message delivered,” read the headline in a recent Hollister Free Lance front-page article. As I read, I could not help but think about the 1959 movie The Mouse that Roared.
If you ever saw the movie, you might recall that the plot centers around the mythical Duchy of Grand Fenwick, a tiny country that decides the only way to get out of their economic woes is to declare war on the United States, lose and accept foreign aid.
They send an invasion force to New York that arrives during a nuclear drill that had cleared the streets. Wandering about to find someone to surrender to, they discover a scientist (Peter Sellers) with a special ultimate weapon that could destroy the earth. When they capture him and his bomb, they are faced with a new possibility: what do you do when you win a war?
Returning to our local South Valley scene and applying this movie as an analogy, I’ll compare the Mouse in this case to the five landless Miwok Indians who have formed a tribe whose sole purpose is to “get out of their economic woes.” They plan to “surrender” to a bunch of non-Indian investors who have dangled more in front of them than beads and trinkets and the U.S. government in order to be recognized as a sovereign nation with all of the rights and privileges to build a gambling casino (they hope) on the San Benito side of the San Benito-Santa Clara county line next to Highway 25.
Of course in this case, there’s no doubt what this “tribe” of five will do after they’ve won the war.
Whenever five people have the potential power to completely negate environmental and other laws as well, then the rules are indeed warped. In fact they’re so warped that the real world turns into an “Alice in Wonderland” scene-like bizarre reality where a Mouse cannot only dictate to an Elephant, but makes the Elephant (also known as local government) jump through hoops at its bidding. And what’s even more bizarre is that apparently, if the Mouse doesn’t win at one approach, it still has the power and ability to try other ploys.
I certainly would have thought that the federal and state government planners and bureaucrats would have been diligently working out public policy issues when it comes to this kind of thing. What do these people do all day long? Apparently being buried in the cubicles and offices of government bureaucracies in Washington and Sacramento with vested job security leaves no fear of accountability to the public. We seem to have plenty of “Mad Hatters” and “Cheshire Cats” in governmental agencies, but I’ m sure you already know that’s the case.
I also thought it interesting to read that Mike McGowan, who chairs the state counties association casino committee, feels that local governments are left to deal with a nebulous, frustrating and ever-changing regulatory system for gaming that has produced meager three-page environmental impact reports, instead of the normal inches-thick reports.
One reader brought to my attention the fact that Indian casino-resorts that were built in San Diego’s rural east county produced an issue possibly far worse than traffic problems and crime, and that was a huge depletion of the local ground water. Nearby residents and farmers found themselves in dire straits, because the water supply was inadequate for the added demands of the casinos and their related facilities.
And why would not the same problem happen here as well? Agriculture is being forced more and more to leave the local counties thanks to many adverse factors, and a casino this might be the last straw for the local farmers who are still struggling to remain here.
I say that five people should not have the legal right to create a tyranny for the majority. I say to fight this casino as much as can be lawfully done.
Let five little Indians and their investors go build a casino somewhere else, but not around here.
Rise up local Crusaders, and show them that the people of the South Valley and their local government leaders have a backbone and refuse to be controlled by a mouse, even one that roars.
