By Chris Lane
By Jeff Balke
By Aaron Reiss
By Angelica Leicht
By Dianna Wray
By Aaron Reiss
By Camilo Smith
By Craig Malisow
We've seen at least two of the operations recently, and it looked like HPD was either stopping every car to find a desperate serial killer or checking for green cards in an illegal-immigrant crackdown. Instead it appears they're just trying to make up for lost revenue.
From July to September of this year, the municipal courts raked in about $1.2 million monthly in traffic fines. In October that figure fell to $950,000.
That's quite a slip. And no one in the city bureaucracy is eager to talk about it, or whether HPD is under the gun to get more cash flow to replace the loss.
Municipal courts director Richard Lewis -- or, to be precise, a "very busy" Richard Lewis, as he described himself when he finally deigned to answer questions -- said he couldn't offer any reason for the dip and suggested we call HPD. The police department said it was a municipal courts matter.
Two court staffers told us that Lewis had been more forthcoming with them -- he had blamed the dip on the fact that police were working overtime responding to Hurricanes Katrina and Rita.
There's no question the city's revenue figures took a dip. What's less certain is whether the cops have stepped up their traffic-enforcement operations as a result. At a time when the department's getting heat for a manpower shortage and lengthy response times to citizen calls, you'd hate to think they'd be devoting a lot of effort to finding niggling things to ticket (especially if you're someone who got a ticket).
Hans Marticiuc, head of the city's biggest police union, says he doesn't know of any particular operation -- like, say, a federally funded program cracking down on seat belts or drunk driving -- that would be causing increased traffic enforcement.
And the department itself has been unresponsive. But if we had to guess, we'd predict the monthly revenues will be zooming past the million-dollar mark again. And a lot of unlucky schlubs will be paying dearly for broken brake lights.
Thomas Jackson is a senior at the University of Texas at San Antonio and president of a group called Atheist Agenda, which promotes godlessness.
Taking an idea from an Austin comedy group, he and his group began a campus campaign in which they offered students pornography in return for Bibles. About 15 took them up on it, and there's a chance the movement will spread to Houston.
Q. How'd people react?
A. Most Christians we ran into didn't really care. Some of them were mildly upset It was the Women and Gender Studies professor who was the most outraged.
Q. Was her problem with the porn itself, the subjugation of women?
A. If she would've stayed around for just a moment, we could've showed her how much worse the Bible commodifies all humanity.
Q. On that note, we found some relevant passages from the Bible. In the Song of Solomon it says, "Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies."
A. Is that the one with "Your stomach is like a goblet"?
Q. How about in Genesis, where Lot's daughters get him drunk so he'll impregnate them?
A. Yeah, baby!
Q. And in Judges, there's snuff-film porn: "When he reached home, he took a knife and cut up his concubine, limb by limb, into twelve parts and sent them into all the areas of Israel."
A. In Judges, one of the first things that happens is some woman makes friends with this guy and kills him with a tent spike.
Q. So how'd you choose the porn?
A. Everybody agreed to donate from their stashes, which actually wasn't as much as we expected. So we went to, I think it was, Half Price Books.
Q. What Would Jesus Jerk Off To?
A. Um, I really don't know gay porn that well.
The Holiday Spirit
If you're the chief executive of a privately held corporation whose business plan focuses heavily on panhandling at busy street corners, Christmas is a big time of year for you.
Not only is traffic stacked up at the intersections near shopping malls, greatly increasing your captive audience, but the holiday season ups the guilt quotient to record levels, forcing previously immune drivers to reluctantly dig into their pockets for a bill or two.
Which is why these businessmen are up in arms about the City Council passing some anti-panhandling ordinances just in time for Christmas.
All the intersection regulars -- from the lone-wolf types toting cardboard signs to the dance-squad kids trolling for support -- will no longer be able to stand on medians or walk among the idling cars looking for dough. Instead they'll be forced to stay on the sidewalk, get a permit and wear "high-visibility vests," which would seem to discriminate against the lone-wolf types. (There are no provisions, for instance, to allow for replacing "high-visibility vests" with "high-body-odor vests.")