Fifty-One Fucking Percent
The government can stop me, detain me, accuse me of wrongdoing, drag me into court, and seek money from me; and apparently “more likely than not” is enough. Maybe that’s legally sufficient. I’m increasingly unconvinced that legally sufficient and just are the same fucking thing.
Justice Left the Building
I spent the last week watching people navigate a judicial system I once naively believed existed to protect justice and individual liberty. What I found instead was calendars, forms, unanswered calls, endless waiting, and a bureaucracy that seemed to have forgotten the enormous responsibility entrusted to it.
Done Waiting
Eight months is long enough. Long enough to wait. Long enough to trust the process. Long enough to hope someone else would ask the hard questions. Tonight, I decided I'm done waiting. If nobody else is willing to fight for motorcycle safety and accountability, then I'll do it myself.
Stop Calling It An Accident
We use the word “accident” like an emotional airbag. It cushions the blow, softens accountability, and blurs the line between negligence and chance. But most of what we label accidental is entirely predictable, and preventable.
What Would You Say?
If I ever sat across from the woman who hit me, what would I say? I’m not sure I’d say anything at all. I think I’d just hand her the story and let her decide who she wants to be next.
Coverage Limits
There’s something uniquely brutal about watching your trauma converted into arithmetic. Brain bleed. Collapsed lung. Facial reconstruction. Months of recovery. And at the end of it all? Coverage limits. It isn’t justice. It’s math.
Justice Before Sunrise
At 4:30 in the morning, I’m not chasing vengeance. I’m chasing a word this country was built on: justice. If someone can make a negligent U-turn, nearly kill a motorcyclist, and walk away without so much as a citation, what does that say about liberty? About accountability? About fairness?
Collateral Damage
One reckless U-turn destroyed my bike, my body, and my freedom—and the woman who caused it walked away with barely an inconvenience. Six weeks later, I’m still paying for her decision in flesh, bone, and stolen pieces of my life.
Rolling Stops and Righteous Fools
Motorcyclists live in a world full of backseat drivers and badge-wielding experts who don’t know the first thing about the ride. Two stories, one truth: people love to police what they don’t understand — but sometimes, justice still rolls on two wheels.
Liberty On Trial
A Nogales man was sentenced to 32 months in prison for pointing a gun at a Border Patrol agent — on his own land. Court records show the agent drew first, aiming at the man’s pit bull. The homeowner reacted exactly how the Founders envisioned when they wrote the Second Amendment. For that, he’s headed to prison. Liberty itself is on trial.