Month: December 2021

by Travis Mateer

While I don’t have immediate plans to stop writing daily blog posts, the reality I’m facing as the new year approaches is this: how do I get paid for what I’m creating?

Content creators who don’t shy away from controversial subjects have been on the receiving end of tactics that are tantamount to economic warfare for years now, and without new methods of monetization, like the crypto-based platform, Rokfin, people like Jason Bermas and Ryan Christian wouldn’t have the financial support to continue their work.

Amidst these deplatforming financial attacks from online behemoths like Youtube, the last thing content creators need are attacks from supposed allies in the truth-telling movement. Cue Alison McDowell, the Neo-Luddite researcher who continues taking shots at Derrick Broze.

These continued attacks from McDowell and her followers are worse than counterproductive; they help the predator class by unrealistically demanding the denial of ANY role for blockchain technology and crypto-currencies in the movement to resist authoritarianism.

I’m hoping to get on Rokfin as a content creator next year AND I have a small amount of Bitcoin as a hedge against fiat madness. In Alison McDowell’s Neo-Luddite world, these actions make me a bad person in need of being blocked and cancelled.

Another blogger in Alison’s corner is “Stephers” who writes at Mark Tokarski’s site, Piece of Mindful. Here’s Stephers echoing McDowell’s attacks on Derrick Broze:

How do these Luddites expect me to get to a sustaining level of financial compensation for my content creation? Am I supposed to be grateful for the meager handouts I get from sporadic donations, like some digital panhandler? Because that’s not sustainable for me.

When I saw this latest eruption break out on Twitter, I reached out to Derrick Broze for an interview and hope to connect with him in the next few months to discuss the deflationary pressure of this in-fighting. I’ve seen similar situations develop within local activist circles as well, which I’ll be discussing in further detail next year.

In the meantime, how about a poem? I call this one DIVIDER.

Alison no son of all
getting pissed she takes her ball
and will not talk like an adult
preferring anti-crypto cults

division benefits the eye
she ain't dumb, but is she sly?
or does Diego have his hands
inside her secret pocket plans?

I dunno, she banned my ass
wrenching allies really fast 
words are fine, but I watch acts
from this valley of attacks 

where Philly is worlds away
from mountains where the money plays
Alison, drop the baggage, man
time is short for taking stands 

by Travis Mateer

Today I’m going to share a few of my secrets for having a successful Christmas with family. I base my success on the fact no one yelled, cried, got arrested or otherwise did anything requiring apologies and/or a lawyer to fix.

I started off by doing something VERY IMPORTANT to ensure I was in the proper mindset for the holidays: ignore the authoritarians and the institutions they are using to spread the fear they derive power from.

If you’re in Missoula, I suggest starting with the Missoula City/County Health Department and the Twitter handle they created in April of 2020 in order to scare you into getting jabbed by Big Pharma.

First, what an adorable graphic. Who made these cute little spike proteins? I’m not sure if it helps drive home the FEAR OF OMICRON, but they sure are nice to look at. I wonder if these are made in house by government employees, or if they outsource the work to some consulting firm, like Six Pony Hitch.

Anywho, here’s the provenance of this COME TOGETHER Twitter handle:

My next secret for a successful family holiday season is to the black sheep who have been labeled as CONSPIRACY THEORISTS during past holidays. It’s gonna be hard, but you have to KEEP YOUR MOUTHS SHUT about how right you always are. Timing is important when trying to incrementally dislodge family members from sophisticated propaganda techniques that have burrowed into their brains like malignant thought worms, and Christmas is NOT THE TIME.

If you don’t think you can accomplish this, here’s a tip: get a piece of paper and a writing utensil and write down your thoughts. Since I was trained at the University of Montana in the use of rhymes, my jottings are often couplets , like this assemblage of rhymes I wrote Christmas morning:

half vaxxed, half not 
Grandma has her booster shot 
plastic trash bags for the wrapping
flash of camera, PR mapping 

document self-conscious smiles 
heroin-likes in empty piles 
grandpa ices the champagne 
plagued with mad cow in his brain 

dad no angel, goes puff-puff 
his modest workout makes him huff 
and don't forget the creamed caffeine 
to survive this Christmas scene 

now the sugar and the carbs 
with snow occluding grassy yards 
merry merry, ho ho ho 
spruce the poop with pretty bows 

After avoiding arguments by citing the correctness of your approach to this information war against free thinking humans, do something to get your blood pumping. My choice of sonic motivation is a vigorous workout to the first four songs of Modest Mouse’s latest, The Golden Casket.

Music is a GREAT way to tame the inner flame of rage that burns in the hearts of those who understand what’s going on, and what’s at stake. So my final secret is a simple one: listen to good music.

What constitutes “good” music is, of course, very subjective, but I think my taste in tunes is pretty solid, so to conclude this day-after-Christmas post, let me share a song from an album José González just released this September. While the album (titled Local Valley) was recorded in Gothenburg, Sweden, I can’t help but think the song HEAD ON is an anthem tailored for Missoulians tired of what the gentrifiers are doing to this LOCAL VALLEY.

So here it is, dear readers. A kick-ass song to take you into the new year. Thanks for reading!

by Travis Mateer

This conversation was recorded on December 23rd in Missoula, Montana.

Before being hit by a car in East Missoula, Harley was a hard-working timber man making good money with a family. After the accident–and a chance meeting with Cock-Eyed Joe–Harley chose to live out the rest of his life on the streets.

by Travis Mateer

In Missoula we didn’t always own our water infrastructure, but we’re sure paying for our water company now. And paying. And paying. And paying.

Why? Is it because the multinational entity that owned the company–the Carlyle Group–were a bunch of BIG MEANIES that punished Missoula unnecessarily? Or was our drunk-ass Mayor engaging in a totally fucked “negotiation” that resulted in a MORE costly process of acquiring this critical community asset?

In support of that latter scenario, here’s what Adam Hertz said on Facebook. For those who don’t remember, Hertz was the ONLY City Councilperson to vote NO at the time.

It’s VERY convenient that this story came out yesterday, or the eve of Christmas eve. Even though locals are busy with holiday preparations, I doubt this story will be memory-holed, especially considering we don’t even know the financial damage yet.

What is the cost of NOT owning our water company, our illuminated braintrust will say? I don’t know, what’s the cost of NOT helping some of the most difficult-to-help homeless people?

That latter topic will be a special podcast episode I’ll be publishing tomorrow, on Christmas Day. Not only will I be providing my perspective, I’ll also be including a 20 minute conversation I recorded yesterday evening with “Harley”, an infamous street character who spent five years in prison after stabbing “Mud Duck” in 2015.

Here’s the story from the incident:

A transient who nearly killed a man in a Reserve Street Bridge camp stabbing in February is back on the streets after pleading guilty to a misdemeanor assault. 

The initial felony assault charge against Glen Harley Stephens, 57, was amended to the lesser charge after prosecutors tracked down the victim, Arthur Halks, and discovered he could not remember the Feb. 21 stabbing that almost ended his life.

Halks, nicknamed “Mud Duck,” was stabbed three times – once in the bicep, once in the chest and once in the groin. Emergency doctors later said the groin wound was a mere inch away from his femoral artery.

Chief Deputy County Attorney Jason Marks explained that Stephens said the stabbing was in self-defense and prosecutors couldn’t prove it was unprovoked if the victim – the only witness in the case – couldn’t remember the attack. 

“I don’t know what is causing his memory issues, but he couldn’t remember,” Marks said.

Harley and I don’t discuss this incident specifically, even though he DOES tell a completely different story about why he was sent to prison, but the conversation is an interesting peek into the mindset of a street person nonetheless.

It’s also worth asking, what happens to the people who the Poverello Center CANNOT serve? If Harley got into a fight at the shelter, resulting in his being kicked out, then what are his options?

The Poverello Center recently held a vigil for those who died while homeless in Missoula in 2021. While the number of people varied between 21 and 22 people, I couldn’t find a list of actual names.

Harley’s plan was to sleep outside last night. More than likely he’ll be spending some time in the hospital. Or maybe he’ll commit a crime serious enough to get three hots and a cot for Christmas.

Thanks for reading.

by Travis Mateer

On December 9th, 2018, the Missoulian published a poem I submitted as a letter to the editor. The editor of the op-ed section added the title “Missoula not wonderful for everyone”.

The impetus for the poem was a city sidewalk program that would have forced property owners to foot a hefty portion of the bill for new sidewalks. My poem was a cynical take on this program, claiming in verse that the city wanted more sidewalks for homeless people to die on. I was thinking specifically of Tim Lloyd, a man the Missoulian inaccurately called a transient after he died of exposure the previous spring DESPITE having finally received a subsidized housing voucher.

Gwen Jones–a lawyer, city councilperson, and board member of Missoula Aging Services at the time–was so incensed by my poem, she momentarily forgot about my first amendment rights and used her influence to pull me away from my paid work duties so she could verbally berate me in an Aging Services conference room.

I sometimes wonder what my career trajectory would have been like if I had had the good sense to play my cards right. What heights could I have achieved if I had the stomach to protect the influencers, like Eran Pehan did in 2011 when Ellie Hill, the ED of the Poverello Center, was clearly not fit to continue leading the organization?

Eran was the quiet one behind the scenes, helping Ellie glide away from the shit-show she had been stirring for over 5 years. Because of the damage control Eran enacted behind the scenes, Ellie was able to do her best martyr impression for the newspaper while people like me were doing the ACTUAL WORK of tending to the chaos of addiction and mental illness.

Here’s one of Ellie’s most disgusting, self-serving quotes from the Missoulian at the time:

“It felt that for 5 1/2 years, I stood alone with a lightning rod in one hand and a sword in the other,” Hill said. “I was sometimes the face and often the voice for the homeless.”

When you play your cards right you get to move up the ladder, as exemplified by the career trajectory of Eran Pehan. Last year this became starkly obvious to close observers like me when the ENTIRE CITY was realigned around a new job title for Pehan. From the link:

In an effort to break down silos and improve efficiency, the city of Missoula on Wednesday realigned several departments to streamline everything from land use and planning to transportation.

In doing so, it established a new singular department dubbed Community Planning, Development and Innovation, and appointed Eran Pehan to serve as its new director.

“She’s demonstrated remarkable skills as a leader, a manager and a mentor,” Missoula Mayor John Engen said. “I believe that in this role, she’ll be able to help us put our rules and regulations in place to better align with our goals for increasing housing stock for everyone in our community.”

Looking back, it WAS remarkable how well people like Eran Pehan and Susan Hay Patrick, the ED at United Way, played their damage control cards in order to protect Ellie Hill (now Ellie Boldman) from any bad publicity leaking out about WHY she was moving on from the Poverello Center.

Here is the narrative control from Susan in the same article where Ellie brashly claimed her hands were full of lightning rods and swords:

“She has a true passion for the political process,” said Missoula United Way Director Susan Patrick, who partnered frequently with Hill on community projects. “But trying to do both – serve in the Legislature and run the Pov – it would just require superhuman efforts. Each of those is a superhuman job.”

The next paragraph is even more interesting, because it shows how Ellie came to land at the Poverello Center from the town she was fleeing, Boise, Idaho.

Hill worked as an assistant district attorney in Boise, Idaho, before moving to Missoula in 2005. While Hill was interviewing for a job with Missoula County Attorney Fred Van Valkenburg, Patrick approached her about the Poverello’s directorship.

“She felt my background as an attorney would be very helpful,” Hill said. “She asked if I was interested in taking advocacy to another level.”

There is SO MUCH fascinating context to decipher in these quotes, but instead of attempting any more decoding for the day, how about a poem?

And remember, lawyers, I have something called a FIRST AMENDMENT RIGHT to write and share my poetry and if you don’t like what I write, I humbly invite you to KISS MY ASS!

Roger that, United Way
secure the lure of Susan Hey
be it public or private hands
set to vibrate on night stands

Mayor players with toxic Gin
identify as having fins
swimming through the golf course scheme
lost is winning, know what I mean?

or don't you blame-train from a spot
where homeless shields take the shot
from angry peasants with sharpened forks
listening for your popping corks

it's ok, we're almost done
and we don't ride into the sun
that's the myth you sold the east--
your noble lie; your catch/release