Comments
ERIC PREVEN'S NOTEBOOK -
Smart Speaker: Good morning, Council President, it's Eric Preven from Studio City, that was a lovely tribute to UCLA several hours ago—"Number One Public University in Self-Rating"—brought to you by Councilwoman Katy Yaroslavsky, who, bless her heart, managed to botch the running order, introducing Chancellor Julio Frenk first. Frenk thundered through his long-winded monologue about UCLA’s unparalleled service to humanity before Yaroslavsky realized, oops, the Big Cheese should've been introduced by the Second Banana. The ensuing awkward joke did little to erase the embarrassment—maybe UCLA could offer a remedial course in basic sequencing for council staffers. Frenk also mentioned Luskin City Hall Day, a neat bit of self-promotion conveniently spotlighting the influence of Yaroslavsky's father-in-law, former Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky.
Fernando Guerra of Loyola Marymount University was also given a warm welcome, celebrated as a go-to “ackey-lackey"—a reliable academic expert frequently summoned to bolster council initiatives. Guerra has diligently documented Los Angeles for decades, providing councilmembers with academic cover whenever politically convenient. The intro from LMU's head marketing guy added an extra layer of cheese, making Guerra's credentials sound more like a sales pitch than an academic tribute.
Councilmember Nazarian then took the floor, earnestly discussing Nowruz, the Persian New Year, only after Councilmember Blumenfield gamely stalled by praising Persian-Americans’ many contributions—chief among them patience in waiting for Nazarian’s timely arrival. A classic case of “Better Late than Nowruz-er.”
Councilmember Hutt boldly presented a proclamation to Storm DeBarge, an extraordinary dancer, bravely calling for "They're not like us," despite Council President Harris-Dawson's well-known discomfort with certain slurs recently targeted by his controversial motion (Council File 16-1104-S3). DeBarge left the council momentarily speechless—quite a feat—and then handed the baton seamlessly to the Baldwin Hills Bruins cheerleaders, who literally cheered, reminding councilmembers how enthusiasm works in case they'd forgotten.
Councilmember Price introduced USC’s Good Neighbors campaign, praised lavishly for being excellent at neighborliness—something Council could learn from if they weren't always busy generating lawsuits instead of goodwill.
Finally, after what seemed like several hours, it was time for public comment. One speaker took pointed aim at Deputy City Attorney Jonathan Groat, demanding an apology for an earlier perceived slight. Groat was notably absent, perhaps wisely avoiding another round of verbal dodgeball. Shockingly, another speaker casually detonated the N-word during a protected yet deeply uncomfortable tirade, prompting a truly unforgettable interjection from the City Attorney’s office distancing the city from offensive comments—begging the awkward question: Which public comments does the city officially condone?
An organized group repeatedly asked—politely, mind you—that Councilmember Nazarian urgently "agendize" an acid maintenance ordinance to protect public health. It was clear they’d come prepared, unlike the council's usual wing-and-a-prayer approach to governing.
As the meeting mercifully approached its close, Councilmember Harris-Dawson, conspicuously quiet through most proceedings—perhaps pinning that controversial motion banning epithets to the council bulletin board—finally spoke up in heartfelt adjournment, reminding everyone he was indeed present, just stealthily so.
Blumenfield to close: “Go forth, find revenue, find savings, and serve the city well…”
Caruso's 200 ft. mega yacht, INVICTUS fits nicely in the Marina, a burgeoning megaevent hang out.
"Griever-nance"
The City of Angels — where transparency goes to die, potholes aspire to canyonhood, and the best city council money can rent is busy banning words while the sidewalks buckle.
In a city overrun by corruption, dysfunction, and outrage, Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson has located the true villain: a pair of words. Not misuse of public funds, not secret backroom deals, not $350,000 handed to Robert Silverstein after stealing my thunder in appellate court. No. Just two slurs. That’s what’s keeping Angelenos from participating in local government, apparently.
It’s performative censorship masquerading as progress, and it’s a shameful dodge. One that drapes itself in the language of civility while trampling the most essential ingredient of democracy: the public’s right to express grievances.
Let’s be clear: racism and misogyny are real. But when the council proposes banning the N-word and the C-word — rather than addressing the toxic culture that produces the anger behind them — it’s not about safety. It’s about control. It’s about insulating fragile egos from public scrutiny.
And the timing couldn’t be worse.
The Trump administration is systematically gutting the federal government of words like “equity,” “inclusion,” “diversity,” “race,” and “trans.” Hundreds of terms have been flagged, scrubbed, or quietly discouraged in what can only be described as a bureaucratic cleanse of reality itself. Trump’s bitch, Musk, has celebrated it. And now, in a deep-blue city, our own council is joining the language police. Can you say, bitch? Yes. If the pooch fits, share it.
What’s next — banning the word “corruption”? Because if that were on the chopping block, we’d need to rewrite entire archives of City Hall history.
The proposed word ban is not just a distraction. It’s part of a long, disturbing trend in L.A. politics: suppress dissent, sanitize records, and sanitize reality. We’ve seen it before — when Councilman Mitch Englander, now a convicted felon, chaired meetings like a frat king, ejecting speakers he didn’t like. When he and his Vegas wingman, Staffer B (aka John Lee), settled sexual misconduct claims on the public dime. When Paul Krekorian shut down dissent during the redistricting scandal — and is now putting a friendly face on a crumbling system while Harris-Dawson pulls a disappearing act.
Meanwhile, we’ve paid dearly for the privilege of suppression. The council’s unconstitutional removals of speakers have cost us more than $1.8 million:
- $600,000 (Zuma Dogg & Dowd)
- $215,000 (Michael Hunt)
- $128,007 (Hunt & Dowd)
- $105,000 (Eric Preven & Boylan)
- $350,000 (Robert Silverstein cashes in)
- $450,000 (Outside attorney fees)
That doesn’t even count what we’ve paid to firms like Meyers Nave — over $1.36 million — or the costly judgment obligations approved in closed session after closed session.
And still, the LA Times’ David Zahniser and KNX’s Craig Fiegener go with the old "$212,000" line, omitting key payouts. Jon Regardie, who is somehow considered a political humorist, forgot to mention that call-in access was removed during a sidewalk crisis — meaning the public now must risk their own safety to provide comment.
There is no prohibition on "dick."
But let’s talk about words. Let’s talk about Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us” — the most culturally dominant song of 2024, with 823.5 million on-demand audio streams and a Super Bowl debut. Despite its fire, profanity, and rhythmic verbal violence, the track never uses the word “nigger” or “cunt.” Seventeen “niggas,” sure. Five “freaky-ass.” Six “fucks.” Twelve “ass.” But Lamar, a Pulitzer Prize winner, made a conscious choice: self-redaction. That’s not censorship. That’s artistry.
He’s not alone. Artists have long confronted uncomfortable truths with uncomfortable language. At council meetings, that same impulse lives — not always elegantly — in speakers who’ve endured corruption, displacement, and erasure. Their language is raw because the stakes are real.
What Harris-Dawson proposes isn’t artistic discretion. It’s state-sanctioned filtering. A “decorum” fix designed to minimize friction, not to enhance discourse. It ignores that the council frequently disappears during public comment or clearly isn’t listening. [Note: they should receive stiff financial penalties for such egregious behavior.]
If the concern is “offensive behavior,” maybe look inward. Try not scheduling roasts while the city crumbles. Maybe return calls. Maybe don’t hide public records. Maybe, just maybe, prohibit the word “streamline” in affordable housing discussions. And every time someone says “public-private partnership,” deduct five seconds of speaking time.
But here we are. Censoring speakers instead of addressing failures. Shielding ears instead of fixing earsplitting problems.
We’re told the public has been discouraged from showing up. Of course they have. Not because of Armando Herman and the Goat Puppet — but because the city eliminated phone-in comments, locked out dissent, and literally removed chairs. Because public comment is time-capped, boxed-in, and tightly policed. And now, apparently, word-policed.
All to preserve the peace for people like… Englander, who once wore a MAGA hat to a city event in Mexico. Who bilked donors on a Taser-funded boondoggle to Arizona while angling for a $75 million contract. Who was called a great fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association by Arnie Berghoff — the same Arnie who shares office space with Mitch’s uncle, Harvey. Yes, those guys.
Berghoff’s roast this year honored Nithya Raman, the first councilmember to unseat an incumbent in 17 years. So of course they called her a communist, draped a hammer and sickle behind her, and made jokes about radicalism. Very cool. Except... it’s not. Cloaking generational progressivism in Red Scare theatrics at a black-tie fundraiser hosted by corporate lobbyists isn’t funny. It’s ominous.
It echoes a deeper political pattern. As George Clooney, making his Broadway debut in “Good Night, and Good Luck,” recently told 60 Minutes: “When the other three estates fail, the fourth estate has to succeed.” He was referring to journalism under fire — but the same principle applies to the public. When the courts, executive branches, and legislative bodies fail us, the people’s voices must rise. Not be sanitized.
Today’s Democrats are in their deepest hole since 1980, according to Clinton adviser Doug Sosnik. Voters didn’t just choose Trump in 2024 — they repudiated establishment Democrats. And yet, here we are, chasing Trumpian word bans in progressive clothing. As if banning “cunt” is a bold stand for equity.
It’s a coward’s move. If we want to challenge the poison of hateful speech, let’s do it with better speech. If we want public participation, stop pushing people out of the room. If we want real change, listen — even when it stings.
The goal isn’t silence. It’s accountability.
I’ll see you on 60 Minutes.
Introducing CouncilPods™: Filtering Out the Public, One Word at a Time
BREAKING from the Berghoff Roast (where lobbyists outnumber napkins): Not content with banning words, Los Angeles City Hall partnered with programmers fresh from Englander Knabe & Allen's rolodex to launch a civic revolution: CouncilPods™—AI-driven earbuds for elected officials who can't bear what the public actually thinks.
Inspired by Apple's AirPods, CouncilPods™ filter public comments in real-time, translating "offensive" speech into comfortable affirmations.
- Speaker: "Corruption!"
Council hears: "Courageous leadership!" - "You're screwing the community!"
Becomes: "Thank you for your continued service!"
Thanks to EK&A’s patented EuphemiTech™ (brought to you by AT&T, Deloitte, Enterprise Rent-A-Car, and Waste Management), CouncilPods even auto-remaster musical regulars. The beloved Korean crooner? Now a K-pop sensation with multilingual captions. Opera singers auto-tune into soothing city-hold melodies labeled “celebratory civic enthusiasm.”
Each councilmember enjoys tailored presets engineered with plausible deniability:
The Krekorian Cloak: Mutes Armenian dissent, rerouting complaints directly to the Budget Committee while refusing Paris boondoggle expenditures.
Nithya Noise-Canceller: Converts questions about cozy developer ties and Harvard-Westlake backroom deals into ambient flute-and-sitar meditation music.
Harris-Dawson Harmony Filter: Blocks any decibel above 75db or sarcasm. Converts all pointed criticism into calming affirmations on equity.
Padilla Pivot: Transforms housing affordability queries into pre-recorded inspirational anecdotes about her journey into public service.
McOsker Muffle: Redirects labor union grievances into soothing San Pedro ocean waves.
Hugo ‘Stalin’ Scrambler: Translates demands for justice into warm applause, instantly diverting them to a subcommittee on civic inspiration.
Yaroslavsky Deflector: Converts angry neighborhood opposition into sun-dappled platitudes about “ongoing engagement opportunities.”
The Hutt Hut: Cheerfully reminds speakers their oversight requests are "still under review."
Blumenfield Buffer: Detects budget scrutiny and reroutes it into an endless loop about "the delicate fiscal ecosystem," accompanied by curb-cut slideshow.
Traci Park Silencer: Converts Venice displacement complaints into waves gently crashing over coastal equity statements.
Curren Price Curtain: Softly hums over references to indictments and lobbyist-funded Cognac with a vague soundscape of "civic progress."
Ysabel Jammer: Reroutes youth-tokenism critiques into cheerful tweets about "engagement equity" and "next-gen governance."
Eunisses Echo: Abolitionist slogans auto-play whenever confronted by displacement or budget mismanagement facts.
Nazarian Nullifier: Any question on insider Charter Reform favoritism becomes a sentimental reel of childhood endorsements.
Monica Rodriguez Redirector: Deflects forgotten Valley constituent complaints with vague "legacy infrastructure" statements backed by mariachi hold music.
John Lee ‘Staffer B’ Filter: Erases Vegas scandals, NDAs, and Englander escapades, replacing them with distant echoes of "small-business support" and "public safety excellence."
The smart one conducts a meet and confer over March Madness bracket.
Public Safety Profiteer Pack™: Plays catchy Official Police Garage jingles when LAPD overtime arises.
Upgrade to CouncilPods Pro, FDA-cleared for mild-to-moderate accountability disorders, now handling Spanish:
- "¡Vergüenza!" translates to "Appreciation!"
- "¡Sinvergüenzas!" becomes "Gracias, Councilmembers!"
CouncilPods™: Because if you can’t silence dissent, at least lullaby it. Operators are standing by—in committee.
CD11, Tracy Park goes to Paris:
March 6–9, 2024: $1,042.59 for hotel stay in Paris by Astghik Parsamyan
March 6, 2024: $1,587.30 for flight from Los Angeles to Paris (Traci Park)
March 7, 2024: $2,957.27 for flights to Paris and Japan, including a seat upgrade (Astghik Parsamyan)
June 21, 2024: $2,873.74 for LA2028 return flight to Paris (Astghik Parsamyan)
August 8–12, 2024: approximately $2,918 USD (€2,672.00) for hotel accommodations at MGallery Nest Paris La Défense (Astghik Parsamyan)
August 12, 2024: Return flights for Astghik Parsamyan and Traci Park (already accounted for in previous flight entries)
August 25, 2024: $811.75 for reimbursement of Paris transportation, hotel, and Mailchimp (Astghik Parsamyan)
Total: $12,190.65 (USD, approximate due to currency conversion on hotel)
Astghik Parsamyan has worked at Los Angeles City Hall from 2013 through 2023, a total of 11 years, holding various positions from Council Aide III to Council Aide VII.
Here's the total compensation she received each year (base + other pay + benefits):
- 2013: $28,298.00
- 2014: $73,095.68
- 2015: $87,821.90
- 2016: $93,589.28
- 2017: $87,218.95
- 2018: $138,927.40
- 2019: $165,975.06
- 2020: $179,851.47
- 2021: $177,961.99
- 2022: $96,365.91 (Council Aide VI) + $87,919.35 (Council Aide VII) + $9,681.42 (Council Aide VII) = $193,966.68
- 2023: $257,260.31
🔢 Grand Total Over 11 Years: $1,483,566.72
(Eric Preven is a Studio City-based TV writer-producer, award-winning journalist, and longtime community activist who won two landmark open government cases in California.)
