January 15, 2007
Wambaugh’s Sharp Eye For PC, Immigration
Disasters
By Steve Sailer
One of the richest veins of
American popular culture has been the Los Angeles crime
novel. Perhaps its leading exponent since
Raymond Chandler is a former Los Angeles Police
Department detective sergeant named
Joseph Wambaugh.
In the early 1970s, Wambaugh began
writing bestselling cop novels such as
The New Centurions
and The Choirboys
and
true crime tales such as
The Onion Field
.
The
2Blowhards blog explains Wambaugh's cultural
importance as follows:
"In
writing-history terms, he took the
Ed McBain-style
police procedural and filled it to bursting with
irreverence, heart and despair. He was an innovator too.
He introduced big helpings of tragedy and comedy (as
well as grit and strung-out high spirits) into the
recipe. He's been a major influence on TV and movies—on
popular storytelling. When you watch such sprawling,
mixed-mode entertainments such as
Hill Street Blues and
NYPD Blue,
you're seeing shows influenced by and inspired by Joseph
Wambaugh."
(Another example of Wambaugh’s prescience: more than
twenty years ago, he published
Lines And Shadows
,
a non-fiction account of a San Diego undercover police
squad’s heroic but ultimately vain attempt in the late
1970s to combat the bandits preying on illegal aliens in
the
chaotic No Man's Land that federal policy was even
then allowing to develop on the border.)
Accordingly, it's a noteworthy
event when—at the suggestion of James Ellroy (
LA Confidential
),
one
of the many novelists influenced by him—Wambaugh returns
to his classic LAPD stomping grounds for the first time
in 23 years. In Hollywood Station
,
the
old master has collected a new trove of war stories from
54 cops, making this 340-page novel about the mid-watch
shift at the Hollywood police station in June 2006 a
terrific read.
LA is the world's most absurd large
city, and Hollywood is its funniest neighborhood. After
each shift, the cops swap stories to determine who was
called out on the evening's most memorable BHI (Bizarre
Hollywood Incident). Example: being summoned to the
famous courtyard of
Grauman's Chinese Theatre, where street people
garbed in movie legend costumes pose for tourists'
cameras, by an ersatz
Marilyn Monroe (6'-3" and with a
five-o'clock shadow), who witnessed, in a dispute
over tourist-hustling turf, Batman cold-cocking
Spiderman. While they're at it, the cops also haul in,
on cocaine charges,
Tickle Me Elmo.
Wambaugh's cop-heroes aren't
saints. When bored one night, two aging surfer dude
officers drive down to an apartment building full of
Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13)
gang members to play "pit
bull polo." The
Salvadoran gang-bangers let their vicious dogs run
wild, terrorizing all the children in the neighborhood.
So the partners cruise slowly around the building a few
times until the beasts are in a frenzy. Then they play a
few chukkers of pit bull polo, leaning out the police
car windows and swinging their
batons like mallets.
Hollywood Station is
mellower, less despairing than Wambaugh’s early
masterpieces. As he
reflects: "Doing good police work is the most fun
these cops will ever have in their entire lives."
And he's finally learned to appreciate the female half
of the human race.
Still, Hollywood Station has
a serious, even angry side. Wambaugh is disgusted by the
demeaning and debilitating federal civil rights
consent decree the once-proud LAPD has been forced
to operate under since the Ramparts scandal of the late
1990s. He
notes it "subjects [cops] to
mountains of paperwork, mind-numbing audits and
oppressive oversight."
Wambaugh points out the great
irony, utterly lost on the liberal
LA Times, which relentlessly hyped the brouhaha
leading to federal interference: the
handful of criminal-cops at the heart of the
Ramparts "racism" scandal were all
minorities. (Indeed, Denzel Washington's
Oscar-winning performance as a murderous rogue policeman
in the 2001 movie Training Day is largely
modeled on
Rafael Perez, the
Puerto Rican gangsta-policeman who set off the
scandal by framing his fellow cops to reduce his
sentence— a transparent tactic that the L.A. Times,
in its fervor to tar the LAPD as racist, fell for hook,
line, and sinker.
Here's my review of the film and my interview with
Perez's lawyer.)
Under the consent decree, to show
they aren't racially profiling, LA cops in each
division must stop whites as much as they stop blacks or
Latinos … "even though there were none around."
Wambaugh explains that, to provide the
politically-correct paperwork demanded by the Department
of Justice,
"LAPD
officers were inventing white male suspects … In one
inner-city division, there was a 290 percent increase in
non-Hispanic white male nighttime pedestrian stops, even
though nobody had ever seen a white guy walking around
the 'hood at night. Even with a
flat tire, a white guy would keep riding on the rims
rather than risk a stop."
The best thing that's happened to
LA in this decade was that the last mayor, a white
liberal Democrat named James Hahn, courageously refused
to rehire the control freak black police chief Bernie
Park (who, according to Wambaugh, "He came to be
known as
Lord Voldemort by street cops who'd read Harry
Potter"). Instead, Hahn
brought in the most respected top cop in the
country:
William Bratton, who had garnered so much praise as
the NYPD chief that his
jealous boss, Mayor Rudy Giuliani, dumped him.
Not surprisingly, appointing the
best man in the country cost Hahn the 2005 election by
busting up the fragile
black Democrat-white Republican coalition that had
helped him beat former
MEChA and ACLU functionary
Antonio Villaraigosa in
2001. Outraged by the dissing of a black chief,
African-American voters deserted Hahn for
Villaraigosa—who recently rewarded them by easing out
the white
fire chief and replacing him with a black. As
Wambaugh says, "Race affected everything in Los
Angeles, from top to bottom…"
Eventually, Hollywood Station's
entertaining vignettes coalesce into a plot. The patrol
officers and detectives struggle to unravel felony
murders committed by an
Armenian immigrant named Cosmo and his Russian
prostitute girlfriend Ilya. No doubt “doing jobs
Americans won’t do”, this enterprising pair have
moved up the
risk-reward curve from fencing credit card numbers
stolen from mailboxes by crystal meth addicts to
knocking over jewelry stores and ATM cash
deliveries.
This is another example of
Wambaugh’s sharp eye. As
land prices in LA have reached absurd levels, the
traditional demographic sources of criminals find
themselves under economic pressure. LA's
once expansive black community is increasingly
squeezed into a sliver between the irresistible force of
the Hispanic influx from East LA and the immoveable
object of the wealthy white-Asian beach suburbs. As a
result, many blacks have decamped to the exurbs or
Atlanta.
In the last couple of years, even
this local
Latino illegal immigration tidal wave has apparently
finally started to peter out as the Mexicans and Central
Americans have
fanned out toward the
rest of the country looking for
higher wages and lower living costs.
Increasingly visible in LA today is
a broad group of immigrants better able to withstand the
expense: white men with deep, gruff accents, often
sporting gold chains,
from the Middle East and the former Soviet Union.
The good news is that LA doesn't
have a lot of fundamentalist Muslims … so far. LA's
white immigrants from Western Asia have seldom been from
the
Muslim masses. Instead, they are more often from
minorities rather exotic even in that part of the world.
For example, my wife used to browse at a boutique owned
by the
Abdul family, who are, strange as it may seem, both
Arab and Jewish (like their daughter Paula, the
American Idol judge).
Patriarchal family discipline means
these new immigrants can pack three or four generations,
plus some in-laws and cousins, into a single-family home
until their strong small business skills let them strike
it rich. And the contempt for the law they learned in
the crooked dictatorships back home means that they
often pay little attention to costly nuisances like
taxes and regulations. Immigrant solidarity and strong
family loyalties ensure that, like the Sicilians before
them, if they turn to
organized crime, they're
good at it.
The
Armenian and
Lebanese Christians who immigrated to California by
the mid-1920s cutoff have assimilated well. But, even if
we were to start restricting immigration again now, it
will take a few difficult generations to Americanize the
latest arrivals from that large section of the world.
(And if we don't start now…)
In the meantime, importing so many
new immigrants from so many violently uncooperative
"low trust" cultures (see my new article
Fragmented Future in
The American Conservative on how Los Angeles
came in
dead last in Harvard political scientist Robert D.
Putnam's survey of social trust) will ensure that LA
remains a bottomless source of bizarre and
blood-curdling cop stories for many future Joseph
Wambaugh novels.
[Steve Sailer [email
him] is founder of the Human Biodiversity Institute and
movie critic for
The American Conservative.
His website
www.iSteve.blogspot.com features his daily
blog.]