The Demon Prosecutor

Fall—or what passes for it here—has come to Los Angeles. The incessant false starts seem to have finally ended, the sweltering heat broken, replaced by fog-shrouded mornings and wet days. Even if there were any trees here that weren’t evergreens, it still isn’t yet cold enough for the leaves to change, but within a week we can expect a brief blaze of autumn colors scattered throughout the parks. The unending flood of tourists may flag for several weeks, until the rain peters out. The trend in crime has shifted, with the overwhelming majority of our cases now centering on larceny, burglary, and fraud.

Violent crimes will increase again later this month, of course. Tensions rise with financial stresses and forced socialization between incompatible people who’ve managed to avoid each other the rest of the year. We can expect a rise in suicide rates which will last into the new year. This annual shift is only ever a temporary reprieve.

Halloween isn’t two weeks past yet, but the shops have been filled with Christmas displays for over a month. Garish lights and cheap, tasteless decor tout slogans designed to disguise their blatant consumerism in altruistic sentiments that most people give little more than lip service to.

I’m sure this won’t be the only time I say it this season, but I really do hate this time of year.