Busy as a Beaver

A new book and new true crime podcast means no rest for the wicked.

A confession: Since the summer of 2024, I’ve been extremely dissatisfied with reporting on politics and government. For the last three decades, my journalism has mostly focused on the intersection of Maine politics and fascists, Christian-Nationalists, Nazis, chuds and/or the latest village idiot. This beat was akin to sports writing. The names change, but the game stays the same.

Which, for me, had become infuriating. And tiresome.

So in the months leading up to the 2024 election, I decided to pivot away. I vowed to myself that — after the polls closed in November — I’d turn my back on gov’t reporting and focus on other projects in my pipeline.

Most importantly, I intended to finish (and sell) an undercover docu-comedy about a chud currently living a life of squalor in Maine. This racist asshole’s poverty-stricken fate was the result of his many failed stupid schemes. And, thanks to a good disguise and a lengthy back story, I was able to infiltrate and document this crazy tale, complete with a whole bunch of amazing hidden camera footage. Except for the final scene, all the necessary film for this movie had been shot.

Then MAGA Daddy goes and gets himself elected. Which put me at a crossroads. How could I work on frivolity while Rome burned? The docu-comedy suddenly seemed trivial. And my Catholic Worker-inspired guilt forced me to put the funny film on hold. And I continued reporting on the local trickle-down effect of an orange racist rapist with swollen cankles and a tiny mushroom-shaped phallus moving into the White House.

Then, in early 2025, I decided to expand The Crash Report and bring in other perspectives to comment on these trying times. Which resulted in a ton more work for me. Namely, editing, writing and re-writing re: political content. Which, I ALREADY KNEW, would be excruciatingly tedious. But I soldiered onward, continuing with the augmented Crash Report.

Beantown

Then, in the late spring, I made a trip to Boston. And I still can’t stop thinking about stuff I saw, down there, in America. That journey — research for a NEW non-political book I’d been working on — was also a reminder of how fortunate I am to live in Maine.

“Crash on the MTA".”

Sorry, due to operational security, the title or topic of this book can’t be currently be revealed. I’ll tell you this though: it’s a true story of an amazing Mainer who has overcome incredible challenges involving mental illness, psychotic horrors and religious persecution resulting in a spiritual and physical transformation that’s arguably magical.

Anyways, I took the Downeaster south for a special event (again, can’t currently reveal) that I’d never in a million years think of attending. Guess what? It was friggin’ amazing. For a variety of reasons I can’t disclose. Trust me, though, I witnessed a legit miracle. Not one of divine intercession, though. Instead, this miraculous marvel was powered by the strength of human spirit and brain. What I saw, down there in Boston, was an astonishing feat of grit and determination. This event was testament to how a mortal’s discipline and dedication to a goal can result in a wondrous victory, against all odds.

(Paid subscribers will learn more about this inspiring story LONG before the rest of the human population. For only seven bucks a month or $75 annually, you can support my work that goes places other media can’t even imagine going.)

This new book, to be blunt, is far more interesting and will be more impactful than any reporting on politics and government.

Red Alert

Then, at the end of June, a family member shared with me a tale about being embroiled in a weird situation: a female con artist — pretending to be a New Age “healer” — was targeting vulnerable women in Maine and beyond.

Which set off the journalistic alarm bell SO FRIGGIN’ LOUD, I knew I had to take action. Since then, I’ve been working non-stop on an absolutely loony true crime investigation of this very frigged up “healer.” It quickly became obvious that this story was destined to become Season Two of Devils and Dirtbags, my true crime podcast.

A brief pod-explainer is below. (Redacted, though. Can’t give away these deets, due to the sensitive nature of the reporting still underway.)

In late September, I intend to start publishing the first pod-episode detailing this dirtbag’s bad behavior. Which means I’ve got a lot on my plate and zero time for anything else. Including politics.

Thusly, I’ve informed the other contributors that I’m suspending the expanded Crash Report and encouraged them to start their own Substacks. (I’ll include links to their future writing homes with their final Crash Report contributions in the next week.)

Also, to fill the void for the next month until the Season Two pod- premiere, I’m republishing the first season of Devils and Dirtbags. Entitled “Unholy Fathers,” this is a 15-part investigation of the child molesting Catholic priests in my hometown of Springfield, Massachusetts, which originally aired in 2019-20.

Unholy Fathers tells the story of the brutal 1972 murder of 13-year-old Danny Croteau committed by Father Richard Lavigne, the parish priest who preyed on Danny, his brothers and scores of other children during the 1970s and 80s.

Unholy Fathers also details the crimes and sins committed by Bishop Thomas Dupre, Father Charles Sullivan and, pictured below, the serial child rapist I call “Father X.”

Unholy Fathers is not for the faint of heart. Not just because of sensitive content, though. The shear hypocrisy and disgusting coverup committed by the Catholic hierarchy is also horrifying and might be sickening for some. Especially considering how the institutions of church, government, police and judiciary are all guilty of sheltering criminals and further victimizing the victims of these predators.

Devastatingly sad, but also sadly familiar. And pertinent.

Stay tuned. Unholy Fathers, episode one, The Suspected Murderer, Part 1, will be published on the morning of Aug. 21.