Last Saturday morning, shortly after this email landed in your inbox, I rang up an old friend from L.A. who’d been deeply impacted by the Palisades fire. I wanted to say hello and check in, see if there was any way I could help him and his family, or simply attempt to take his mind off the tragedy for a moment—perhaps even make him laugh. Remarkably, he was in good spirits—in some state of shock, of course, but filled with gratitude that he had lost possessions and not loved ones.
Given his vortex of experiences across politics and the entertainment industry, we naturally began talking about the broader cultural implications of the disaster. Recognizing that the fires had disproportionately impacted some of the wealthiest real estate in Los Angeles, he offered a biting and yet entirely shrewd observation: that so-called insurance advocates were quickly becoming the new
Varsity Blues-style college counselors in Southern California. Indeed, these for-hire pit bulls presaged many of the political, legal, and financial battles that are looming around the corner as we enter the next chapter of the recovery.
He has a point, after all. Mere days after the flames erupted, we were already seeing the fallout of their politicization: L.A. mayor
Karen Bass had inexplicably traveled to Ghana before the initial blaze, despite early reports of historic wind events amid a particularly dry winter. Her erstwhile foe,
Rick Caruso, seems ready to run against her—if she can even make it to a campaign before getting recalled. Meanwhile, Governor
Gavin Newsom was already ostensibly cognizant that federal aid would come with standard caveats of Trumpian politics, a game he’d played during Covid. And there were the implications for the entertainment industry, the forthcoming Olympics, and the multi-hundred-billion-dollar resurrection of one of the most prized patches of soil on Earth. I mentioned to my pal a detail from my partner
Marion Maneker’s excellent private email, Wall Power: Art insurance executives were already signaling that they were going to dig in regarding the underwritten value of various works. There is no Kelley Blue Book for fine art.
Shortly after our chat, I texted my partner
Peter Hamby, one of the great political bards of our day, who had been narrating the horrors of the fire on his podcast,
The Powers That Be. In a brief exchange, I wondered if he could dig into these questions. Was Bass cooked? Were L.A. heavies furious at
Jeffrey Katzenberg, late of
Biden fundraising fame, for supporting her candidacy? Would Newsom be able to manage the twin responsibility of the recovery effort and the negotiation with the White House? You get the idea.
On Monday, Peter finished his extraordinary story,
The Blood Is in the Water for Karen Bass—truly one of the most exceptional pieces of journalism that Puck has ever published. The piece lyrically and definitively answers these questions, among others, while delicately capturing the outrage and harrowing emotionality of the event. “If it is true that she left the country on a Saturday after the warning came out, that is a dereliction of duty,” Endeavor C.E.O.
Ari Emanuel, who donated to Bass’s 2022 campaign, told Peter. UTA super-agent
Jay Sures, one of Caruso’s biggest donors, was even more adamant: “To me, it’s utter incompetence at the highest level with the mayor’s office. The fact that she was not here on standby and ready to go? It’s unforgivable.”
Only a few days later, Peter collaborated with our partners
Matt Belloni and
John Heilemann, two native Angelenos, on an equally breathtaking piece,
L.A., to Hell and Back, which captures and hypothesizes on the role of the fires in Hollywood and the White House in all their granularity. It’s a heart-pounding read, filled with stunning insights about our current era of disinformation, tech bros, and the politicization of, well,
everything. We were equally proud to publish it.
This weekend, I’d suggest you turn your attention to either of these pieces, if not both. They’ll offer you a vivid and concise understanding of how this unfolding tragedy will impact every meaningful industry in our culture. And when you’re done, I hope you’ll consider making a donation to one of the many charities that are supporting the recovery. This is truly the story of our time—and, indeed, one of the defining ones of our age—and precisely what you should expect to read about in Puck.