Superior’s Thin Blue Lie: Testify or Terrify, the Policy That Proves the Problem

Wait, We Had to Tell Cops They Need to Testify?

In 2023, the City of Superior—home to lead pipes, high taxes, and low expectations—passed a revolutionary new policy:
Police officers must be believed in court.

Not “can they shoot?”
Not “do they know the Constitution?”
Not “can they park without hitting a school bus?”

No.
Just: Can you speak under oath without having your testimony impeached, or the “you can’t be on a Brady list rule.”
And apparently, the answer—until 2023—was sometimes “nah.”

Tasered Over Tacos: The Case That Jolted a City

Let’s talk about the DoorDash driver tased over a Taco Bell delivery.
Because nothing screams “Serve and Protect” like frying a dude because his GPS glitched.

Ian Cuypers was trying to deliver some Taco Bell—not robbing it, not speeding, just delivering it.
That’s when officers swarmed him like he’d just stolen the Declaration of Independence.
He was tased multiple times, and arrested—all caught on bodycam, all for what amounts to a wrong turn with extra guac.

The result? Municipal Prosecution, and a federal lawsuit claiming excessive force and civil rights violations.
The officers involved? Most still employed.
The public trust? Deep-fried. Taxpayers footing the bill.

Forty Cases Tossed: The Elected DA Hit the Eject Button

40 cases.
FORTY.
Dismissed.

Why?
Because the officer tied to the reports was impeached by his own cameras and was so ethically shaky that his courtroom presence would’ve been a prosecution killer.

That’s 40 chances at justice flushed—because no one wanted to check the receipts before handing out badges, or criminal charges.  Maybe before an officer that can’t testify changes someones life with real criminal charges, maybe, just maybe, at the very least someone other than the District Attorney could review their bodycam footage.  Not even charged.  

Unelected City Attorney: Shielded, Sheltered, and Mayor-Council Approved

Now let’s talk about the cities municipal court system in Superior—because it’s about as transparent as a brick wall at midnight.

Superior’s city attorney isn’t elected by the people.
He’s appointed, and answers only to the Mayor and Council.

No public accountability.
No checks, or balances.
Just one more unelected insider deciding what justice looks like—while taxpayers foot the bill.

And yet this person’s in charge of municipal prosecutions? at least the District Attorney is elected.  
Might as well let the city’s IT guy try brain surgery. This can’t go wrong.

Jim Paine: Mayor of Excuses, King of Copaganda

Mayor Jim Paine—Superior’s poet laureate of platitudes—approved the 2023 testimony rule after the house was already burning and the insurance lapsed.
But don’t expect him to own that timeline.
He’s too busy throwing blog posts at the wall hoping one distracts from the smell of legal liability and melted public trust.

When not promoting press releases about “transparency,” or appointing his wife to committees MayorJim Paine oversees a council stuffed with enablers:

• Tylor Elm, the mayor’s “Work Wife”

• Garner Moffat, elected by a “mandate” of three raccoons and a traffic cone

• Ruth Ludwig, the legislative version of a bobblehead

• Lindsey “Grain Silo Selfies” Graskey

• Nick “Participation Trophy” Ledin

Even Jack Sweeney, once the financial adult in the room, voted against free money for replacing lead pipes until the legislature did it anyways.
You almost admire the constant commitment to mediocrity.

Half-Assed Reform: Still Letting the Bad Apples Roll

Here’s the kicker:
This 2023 policy only applies to new police hires.

You know what that means?
The officers who caused city lawsuits, tanked city cases, and tased a Taco Bell delivery like the driver was an insurgent at a burrito checkpoint?
Still mostly employed.
Still mostly on duty.
Still unable to explain under oath why your uncle’s trespassing case was dismissed with a shrug and a side of qualified immunity.

This isn’t a fix.
It’s a press release wrapped in duct tape and denial.

Mic Drop Moment: Mayor Jim’s Incompetence Ain’t Just Showing—It’s Headlining

This isn’t just about a bad policy, or a broken police department.
This is about Mayor Jim Paine, a man who couldn’t manage a lemonade stand without turning it into a federal lawsuit.

The 2023 “can-the-cop-testify” policy wasn’t leadership—it was a confession.
A quiet little whisper that screamed, “Yeah, we hired officers who can’t legally testify in court.  We give them guns, city cars, and permission to deprive you of your freedom… but were only fixing that going forward.”

Classic Mayor Jim half-assed.
Only new hires are held to the standard. The old crew of liability grenades? Still out there.
Still can’t testify. Still wearing a badge. Still tasing taco deliveries. Still costing you, the taxpayer, real money the next time they get the city sued.

And while all this explodes around him, Jim’s at his desk writing another Facebook novella or scheduling a photo-op in front of a pothole, or appointing his voted out wife to another committee.

Because that’s what he does best: look busy while accomplishing absolutely nothing.

The lawsuits are piling up like parking tickets on a ’92 LeSabre with no plates.
The police department is a walking liability.
The municipal criminal court is a kangaroo circus with people being prosecuted by an Unelected Prosecutor who answers to no one except Jim, and the council.

And what has Mayor Paine done?
Talked.
Wrote. 
Posted.Talked.

Meanwhile, actual public safety?
Actual fiscal responsibility?
Actual leadership?

Nowhere to be found.

Mayor Jim’s legacy is on full display.
A trail of dismissed cases, wrongful arrests, multiple civil rights lawsuits, and legal faceplants (NTEC)—and that’s just the last two years of Jim in office.

If he ran a hospital, the morgue would need a second floor.
If he ran a zoo, the animals would sue for better representation.

Superior doesn’t just have a policing problem.
It has a Mayor Jim problem.

And the scariest part?
He still thinks he’s doing a great job.

Clang. That’s the sound of reality hitting the marble floor of city hall.