But while all boats may have been lifted by the rivers of quarters flowing into the tribe's 800 slot machines, Dakota's opponents say a few ships are rising far faster than others. They point to Dakota's gas station, furniture store and cigarette shop as evidence of illicit personal enrichment. Dakota is also charged with tax evasion. Defiant, he insists the money was from consulting fees. And all this paranoia and vindictiveness hasn't stopped people from coming to gamble.
People love to gamble.
They'd come even if a nuclear bomb went off. Coincidentally enough, three homemade bombs concocted from household chemicals and tinfoil have, in fact, gone off in O'Leary's yard, ostensibly pitched there by angry anti-Dakota dissidents. The rebels, however, blame a scruffy if heavily armed private police force hired by Dakota to stand guard at tribal council members' homes. They're sleazy thugs. And what we have here at Keweenaw Bay these days is a thugocracy.