The ACLU fights the new voter ID law
Voter fraud is an unavoidable evil in a democracy. You can mitigate it, but you can never get rid of it completely. Toughen laws, and at least some vote-thieves will still find a way around them.
Voter fraud is an unavoidable evil in a democracy. You can mitigate it, but you can never get rid of it completely. Toughen laws, and at least some vote-thieves will still find a way around them.
I know what you're thinking: How is it possible that the Alibi is already hosting its 15 th Annual Haiku Contest? This is some kind of sham, right? No, ma'am. No sham.
In 1985, Hong Kong superstar Jackie Chan starred in The Protector, his second attempt at cashing in on the American film market. It didn't work--partially because the film sucked and partially because Chan found himself teamed up with Danny Aiello. (Not to worry. Chan's next American outing, pairing with Chris Tucker in 1998's Rush Hour, proved a bit more profitable.) Now comes another martial arts action film titled The Protector. This one stars Thai jaw-dropper Tony Jaa (Ong-bak). It has nothing to do with Chan’s 1985 film. (Although, alert viewers will spot a historic passing-of-the-torch moment involving Jaa and what looks like a certain big-nosed kung fu fighter.)
Benefit for Irish Freedom--The Irish Freedom Committee has organized a benefit in honor of the 25th anniversary of the 1981 hunger strike at Long Kesh Prison. On Thursday, Sept. 14, the film Some Mother’s Son will show at the Guild Cinema in Nob Hill. Screenings will take place at 4:30, 6:45 and 9:15 p.m. There will be a Q&A session following the 6:45 screening. The film, starring Helen Mirren, Fionnula Flanagan and John Lynch, is based on the true story of the 1981 hunger strike in which IRA prisoner Bobby Sands led a protest against the treatment of IRA prisoners. Proceeds from the $7 ticket sales will go directly to the families of Irish Republican POWs currently in prison. For more information, log on to www.irishfreedomcommittee.net.
Why is it films are always “based on the inspiring true story”? How come you never see “based on the disheartening true story” or “based on the totally depressing true story”? ... OK, so maybe it’s more of a rhetorical question. The point is simply that Hollywood loves inspirational, real-life stories. Any time a poor kid wins a national spelling bee or a tiny school wins a basketball championship, you can guarantee there will soon be a heartwarming movie made about it.
It wasn’t long after producers of “Survivor” announced plans for their 13th season that naysayers started organizing protest rallies and calling for network boycotts. What had reality show guru Mark Burnett done to so inflame the viewing public? As you probably know by now, he said he would separate this year’s contestants by race.
Our age isn't so very different from any other. Artists have always dabbled in the most technologically innovative media at their disposal. In many cases, they've actually played a central role in creating that newfangled media. This is as it should be. If it's easier to work with a digital medium to bring a particular artistic vision to fruition, then why not use it?
Robert Pirsig has a bone to pick with philosophers. As his era-defining memoir Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance levitated up the bestseller lists in 1974, all he heard from them was grumbling.
American Shakespeare Project—In our recent two-part theater guide, which we printed a couple weeks ago, we foolishly neglected to mention the American Shakespeare Project. Bad! Very bad! This Albuquerque-based operation run by David Nava specializes in producing Shakespeare at venues all over town, and they greatly deserve our support.
Harvest Moon—My dad is a chiropractor by day, but give him enough down-time and he becomes a Zen farmer. A very small-scale one. When the weather's right, my father loses himself in a walking meditation among the vines of his heirloom brandywine tomatoes, his lemon cukes and his purple, honey-sweet figs. On the other side of the yard sits my mother's plot, tumescent with flowers and a hedge of rose bushes that reaches up to the mountains. How fitting that my sister (an apprentice indoor landscaper) will be married in their backyard next spring, between those two patches.
Here’s one way to tell if you’re New Mexican, through and through. When Hatch flooded, did you have nightmares about chile dearth? Thought so.
Breakfast is still the most important meal of the day. Every morning, I see people ingesting a superb variety of bizarre breakfast foods during their commute, from alien blue goop-filled toaster pastries to cold egg rolls and, in my case, the occasional bowl of leftover tofu helper. It’s a start. And so imagine my delight upon learning that the Calico Café, a hot breakfast nook (lunch and dinner, too), has relocated from far away Corrales to north Fourth Street. Anything “charming” needs a manly-man perspective, so I decided to bring my buddy Ike for some company and the occasional grunt or scratch.
The streets of Downtown are less crowded. The traffic hasn't slowed, but the number of open parking spaces along the streets has increased. In early July, the City of Albuquerque installed 14 parking meters along Central between First and Seventh Streets [RE: Newscity, "Both Sides of the Street," July 6-12], which convert the formerly two-hour free parking zone into pay-only.
A Week in the Life—It’s that time again. It seems we can only go a couple of months before we are forced (forced, I tell you) to do a little Albuquerque Journal critiquing. It’s just one of those things—like taking the car for a tune-up or buckling down and cleaning the house—when the essentials start to fall apart, you have to pay attention.
The payday loan industry in New Mexico remains nearly unregulated, but not for lack of trying on the part of Gov. Bill Richardson and Attorney General Patricia Madrid. In late June, the Regulation and Licensing Department ended the public comment period for proposed regulations designed to limit fees, end interest and give payback options to payday loan consumers [RE: Newscity, "Money in the Bank?" June 29-July 5].
At two different neighborhood association meetings this past week, I heard choruses of frustration over problems created in those communities by the large number of homeless people hanging out on street corners and in parks. For me it was déjà vu.
Every night, when the trains slip through Albuquerque, Jill Gatwood can hear their whistles from her North Valley home. She lives just a couple of blocks from the tracks, near Fourth Street and Griegos. For Gatwood, the tone is comforting, something that signifies stability—and Albuquerque. "It's the history of the city," she says. The railroad, she wrote in her June 15 letter to the Alibi, is largely responsible for the Duke City's existence. Her grandfather was a lobbyist for Southern Pacific Railroad in New Mexico, perhaps figuring into her affinity for the sounds associated with the rail. "A train whistle is a certain specific tone," Gatwood says. "It's always the same, and most people find it to be kind of romantic."
Dateline: Canada--A Swiss tourist caught for speeding through the Canadian countryside has blamed his crime on Canada’s distinct lack of goats. The driver was caught traveling 161 km/h (100 mph) on Canada’s busiest highway between Montreal and Toronto last Sunday. The posted speed limit is 100 km/h (60 mph). “An officer stopped the car for speeding along a straight stretch of road, and the driver told him he thought it would be all right to go fast because he wasn’t likely to hit a goat,” said Constable Joel Doiron. “I’ve never been to Switzerland, but I guess there must be a lot of goats there,” he said. Constable Doiron noted that in his 20 years as a police officer, “nobody’s ever used the lack of goats here as an excuse for speeding.” The Swiss speeder was issued a ticket for $C360 ($430).
The Sept. 6 Council meeting began with an adorable Pet Project dog peeing on the Council carpet and became even more entertaining when Lawrence Rael, executive director of the Mid-Region Council of Governments, presented the Council with a model Rail Runner. Rael said the commuter train was averaging 2,500 to 3,000 riders on weekdays and carried more than 15,000 passengers to the Bernalillo wine festival. Unfortunately, the model trains painted with our state bird are all sold out.
A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery Inside an Enigma—I've been driving by this place at Seventh Street and Mountain for months, scratching my head and muttering to myself, “What? ... The Curio?” It's a little shed-house with a sign that proclaims, you guessed it, “The Curio.” Sometimes there are hippies juggling in the front yard. I'm stumped.
Mantis Fist has been around this block—many times. An Albuquerque hip-hop staple, the Fist has brought it's undefinable breed of underground hip-hop to our stages since 2000. "We've performed over 100 shows here," says Keith Connell. "We've played with everybody."
Although I’m sure they’re perfectly nice people, the music of Zann is truly terrifying. The fact that all the lyrics are in German isn’t helping, either. Be unnerved in the unlikeliest of venues this Thursday, Sept. 14, at Winning Coffee (111 Harvard SE, all-ages). The Coma Recovery, Dear Oceana and The City Is the Tower open around 7 p.m. A $5 donation gets you in. (LM)
It’s no revelation to say Albuquerque’s radio landscape is lacking. Amidst the ho-hum mainstream formats provided by the likes of broadcasting behemoths Citadel and Clear Channel, which still, as far as I’m aware, each own eight stations in town, there are a few relatively inconsequential public stations, and then there is KUNM.
Magen White stole her sister's guitar. Well, not "stole" exactly. Her sis played it for a couple months, then kind of forgot about it and left the guitar to languish in their house. Five years ago, Magen picked it up and started fiddling. She cut her teeth on bands like Dashboard Confessional and The Get Up Kids.
Marisol—Class is back in session, and UNM's Department of Theatre and Dance is pulling back the curtain on an exciting new season. Jose Rivera's award-winning Marisol is playing one more weekend in Theatre X, located downstairs in the University's Center for the Arts. Set in a surrealistic Bronx, the play tells the story of an Everywoman named Marisol Perez who attempts to find meaning in a world on the brink of self-destruction. With the looming apocalypse on everyone's brain these days, this show should be a serious thought provoker. Directed by JoRae Taylor, Marisol runs Thursday, Sept. 7, through Saturday, Sept. 9, at 7:30 p.m. $10 general, $8 seniors, $7 students. 925-5858, unmtickets.com.
Nine years old and blind: a prime candidate for euthanasia. That’s how Debbra Colman found her. The sign read: German Shepherd, female, 9 years, blind, spayed. When Colman rescued Ladybug from the Eastside Animal Care Center and brought her to a veterinarian, the verdict was a little different: German Shepherd, female, 5 years, not blind, un-spayed. She was so “not blind,” in fact, that when Colman tossed a ball 30 feet away, the cloudy-eyed dog would run and fetch it easily, eager for another round.
Mark Hosler's got boundary issues.
He doesn't understand the boundary between something he's made, and something that's out in the world.
Those are his words.
They're shiny and black and about the size of a tennis ball. They hang in a white casing, usually hidden and innocuous. They can see in the dark. If you're on one of Downtown's main fairways, they can probably see you.
iPods, BlackBerries, satellite radio. The boom in new technology media and communication products has transformed the way we interact as humans. It has also created a modern equivalent of the Cro-Magnon man called techno-interruptus, which is a guy like me who doesn’t understand how to use most of this new stuff.
Who? Me?—Defensive. High-minded. Timid. They're the three steps of receiving criticism in this industry. For example, on the letters page of our Aug. 24-30 issue, John Krone wrote to us that he isn't fond of "the sort of cynical, urban hipster tone" presented in our paper, and he also doesn't like the "do-gooder activist stories."
Some powerful testimony was given during the day-long Town Hall meeting on Aug.31 concerning “Kendra’s Law.” It mostly came during the final two hours when more than 35 members of the audience voiced their views during public comment on legislative proposals for the city and state to require psychiatric treatment for some severely mentally ill patients.
City Councilor Michael Cadigan wants Volcano Heights property owners to understand: He doesn’t want to take away their right to build homes. Yet that was the prevailing sentiment among some local homeowners at the Aug. 21 City Council meeting.
Dateline: Canada--The pilot of a Canadian airliner found himself locked out of the cockpit after going for a bathroom break last Saturday. The incident occurred aboard a flight from Ottawa to Winnipeg. A spokesperson for Air Canada’s Jazz subsidiary said that with 30 minutes of the flight to go, the pilot went to the restroom, leaving his first officer in charge. But when he tried to get back into the cockpit, the door would not open. A report in the Ottawa Citizen newspaper said that, for about 10 minutes, “passengers described seeing the pilot banging on the door and communicating with the cockpit through an internal telephone, but being unable to open the door.” Eventually, the plane’s crew had to remove the door from its hinges to get the pilot back into the cockpit. The airline spokesperson stressed that at no time were the plane or passengers in any danger.
The GIFF That Keeps on Giving--Later this month, the city of Gallup and the newly formed Gallup Film Foundation will sponsor the Gallup Intercultural Film Festival. The theme of this debut festival is “Shining Light on the Bridges Between Cultures.” According to organizers, a short-term goal of GIFF is to provide “a showcase of culturally diverse motion pictures.” Longer-term goals include promoting filmmaking in the local community and establishing the festival as an annual Gallup event. Right now, the festival is looking for submissions in the following categories: narrative feature (longer than 60 minutes), narrative short (up to 60 minutes), documentary feature (longer than 50 minutes), documentary short (up to 50 minutes), experimental (any length), music video, advocacy/activism, children/family, animation, gay/lesbian, regional (Gallup area), Native American, international and the all-inclusive category of “other.” Submission fee is $20 per film. Log on to www.gpac.info/giff or call (505) 879-9409 for submission information. Deadline is Sept. 15. The film festival itself will take place at Gallup’s historic El Morro Theater Sept. 29-Oct. 1.
A quinceañera is a very special time in a girl’s life. It is the day she turns 15, the day she becomes a woman. In Mexican culture, it is a time for celebration, a time to show off your daughter in all her womanly beauty. It is a time to buy huge white dresses, rent limousines and hire DJs. It is also, apparently, the age at which a girl becomes eligible for her own angst-heavy indie drama.
Perhaps in a sly attempt to get extra attention for his newly released CD, Modern Times, Bob Dylan recently proclaimed that modern music all sounds like garbage. What a jerk, right?
Fame seems to bestow a kind of invulnerability on people. Celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, Princess Diana and JFK are immune to the ravages of time and mortality because they have been forever enshrined on film, television and record. Their youth and vitality remains as it ever was thanks to the freeze frame of pop culture. Also, there is that segment of the population that refuses to believe in the ordinary circumstances of their deaths, concocting elaborate conspiracy theories for the simple reason that celebrities can’t expire like mere mortals.
Where's Jenny?—I'd been trying to contact local music promoter Jenny Gamble all week. E-mails and phone calls went unanswered and nobody had seen her around. She had, effectively, disappeared. Then one morning I found a note on my desk. “I'm leaving town. Call me. Jenny Gamble.” So I called.
The globe’s only known 10-man hip-hop orchestra (or, Breakestra, if you will) will step to the Sunshine Theater on Tuesday, Sept. 12. The all-ages show starts at 8 p.m. and costs $10. Conduct yourself accordingly. (LM)
Salt Lake City’s The Brobecks aren’t what you might expect of a band from one of the most conservative parts of the country. They ooze free-floating choruses and danceable hooks. The vocals are buoyant and brazen, and the keyboard never loses its grasp of the melody.
Musicians with a cause aren't rare in the industry. Any hipster with a guitar can belt out tunes decrying the government or warning of impending nuclear fallout, but it takes something more to make change rather than just call for it—like courage, conscience, resolve, cause and, not least of all, desire. Craig Minowa brings these things to Cloud Cult, an indie-rock band with songs that depict the best and worst of human nature and actions that try to preserve humankind. The Alibi caught him mid-tour to ask a few questions about the band and their green ways.
This year’s state fair promises the usual smattering of caramel apples, rickety rides and high-pressure carnies, but it’s also chock-full of musical talent.
It's a cliché to say tragedy brings out both the best and the worst in people. We know this instinctively. When the attacks of 9/11 happened, we heard a lot about people at their best. Firemen, policemen and ordinary citizens selflessly risking their lives to save others. A nation and a world coming together—if only for the space of a few short breaths—collectively vowing to defend civilization against its barbaric enemies.
A series of myth-inspired pictographs by Rory Coyne will be hanging at the Yale Art Center throughout the month of September. The show explores the use of myths as a response to everyday life, embellishing certain details to express a greater truth. Enjoy refreshments during the reception to be held this Friday, Sept. 8, from 6 to 9 p.m. The Yale Art Center (1001 Yale SE) is open Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 1 to 6 p.m. and Saturday from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. To learn more about the exhibit or the Yale Art Center, visit www.yaleartcenter.org or call 242-1669.
Becki Smith has been creating her unique art boxes for eight years, and during that time she has examined such subjects as gender identity, domesticity, the environment and spirituality. Within these metaphorical boundaries, Smith builds three-dimensional collages using new, old, found and recycled objects made of natural materials, metal, glass, fabric and paper. Little Alters Everywhere opens this week at the Harwood Art Center (1114 Seventh Street NW) in the main gallery and runs throughout the month. A reception for the show will be held on Friday, Sept. 8, from 5 to 8:30 p.m. For more information, call 242-6367.
Jennifer James Walks Away from Graze!—Hours before the Alibi went to press, it was announced that Chef Jennifer James is leaving her Nob Hill restaurant for good. She and business partner Michael Chesley have decided to end their six-year-long collaboration, which included two acclaimed restaurants--Restaurant Jennifer James and Albuquerque’s popular small-plates restaurant, Graze. Graze won’t close in James’ absence—it will continue to operate under the eye of remaining partner Michael Chesley.
When it comes to grilling, there’s a tendency to eschew anything that involves plates. The usual suspects (hot dogs, burgers and kebabs) are fine for finger-foodin’ it—especially if you need to have one hand free for drinking, smoking, tossing a Frisbee or getting into a fistfight—but sometimes it’s worth splurging on a stack of paper plates.
Who knew meatballs were such a cosmopolitan food? Through a little webbing, I discovered that almost every culture has their own version of our much-adored spaghetti topper. In Norway, they are called kjøttkaker ("meat cakes") and are served with peas and potatoes. Indonesian meatballs are served in a bowl with eggs, tofu and noodles, and are called bakso. There are more than 80 types of regional meatballs made in Turkey, and in Italy, the forebear of our own American meatball, they are known as polpette, and are served as a course unto themselves.
After a three-year fight, Martha Edmands is not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
If you've ever wondered what goes on inside the mind of a Rush Limbaugh fan, let us introduce you to Jim Derych. For more than a decade, Derych was a loyal, self-assured Limbaugh follower—a so-called dittohead—who uncritically accepted the ideas Rush advocated on his syndicated national radio program. But by the time George W. Bush took office in 2001, Derych found himself questioning the wisdom of Rush's ideology, ultimately concluding that Limbaugh's social, economic and political principles sounded better in theory than they worked in practice. In 2004, Derych deserted Limbaugh and the Republicans and switched his allegiance to the Democratic Party.
Duuuuuuude--Take a bong hit for our homies! Two Albuquerque bands have been invited to play in The Stoner Hands of Doom, the largest festival of stoner-rock in the Southwest. Devil Riding Shotgun and SuperGiant were selected to appear with more than 40 bands near Phoenix, Ariz., this Labor Day Weekend. Unfortunately, Devil Riding Shotgun won't be able to attend due to a work scheduling conflict. “It would have been great to go and represent Albuquerque. We'll just have to wait for the next opportunity and play around town, [which] is great to play in,” says DRS bassist Neb. “Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.” So now it’s down to SuperGiant, who’ll perform alongside the likes of Graves at Sea, Super Heavy Goat Ass, Acid King and Sasquatch. “A lot of bands have gotten discovered at this festival,” says Jeremy, Alibi webmonkey and nimble-fingered lead guitarist of SuperGiant. En route to the festival, SuperGiant will make a pit stop in Flagstaff on Friday, Sept. 1, where they'll knock the plaster off the Hotel Monte Vista. It's an unlikely venue, but the venerable old hotel is reputed to be haunted by 10 different ghosts. So that's kind of rocking. Learn more about the ghosts at www.hotelmontevista.com. Details about the festival can be obtained at the event's crappy website, www.cherylsweb.com/shod/index.html.
Get yer learn on! The League of Young Voters presents an all-ages hip-hop event to usher you back into academia. Engage in emcee- and b-battles, plus jams from Garbage Pail Kidz and Audiobots. Friday, Sept. 1, from 6-10 p.m. at the UNM SUB Ballroom. Info at email@example.com. (LM)
When talking to Will Johnson of Denton Texas’ Centro-matic, you get the feeling that, as thoughtful and succinct as his comments are, there’s something else going on inside the mind of this man who’s been the driving force behind eight albums produced in 10 prolific years. Johnson admits he’s inundated with melodies. They constantly run through his head, often accompanied by lyrics that sometimes even he doesn’t completely comprehend. The indie-Americana identity that Centro-matic has forged is a tender confection of alt.country riffs, faintly haggard vocals and meticulously thought-out melody that paints a vague but still tangible sonic picture. About to embark on the West Coast leg of the band’s tour, Johnson talks with the Alibi about songwriting, musical influences and coming of age.
DJ Ginger Dunnill found herself on the fast-track from tomboy to temptress. On a normal day, the pretty, petite Dunnill sports baggy hip-hop gear in an attempt to take a pin to the balloon of stereotypes inflated around women in the hip-hop world. She wants respect for her work, her emceeing, her DJing, her artistry—not for her body.
Waiting for local music that takes it to “the next level?” Albuquerque’s own Cobra//group may have what you’ve been after.
At the Donkey—In this case, it's perfectly OK to be an ass. The Donkey Gallery (1415 Fourth Street SW) is picking up the pace in preparation for the fall season. A new group of gallery collaborators made up of David Leigh, Larry Bob Phillips, Elena Agustin and Karl Hofmann will unveil an installation called Change Up this week. It will consist of site-specific drawings on the walls by the three dudes along with an architectural rendering by the lady. The installation won't be completed until right before the opening reception on Friday, Sept. 1, from 6 to 9 p.m. Also on display that evening will be city bus photographs by Donkey intern Maxwell Krivitzky. As always, expect some chow and live music at the opening. The show runs through Sept. 24. 242-7504, www.donkeygallery.org.
It's a well-known fact that some of the best contemporary art in the city is created by current or former students of UNM. The new school year just started, of course, and with it comes an exhibit of work from the freshest faces in the Art and Art History Department. A reception will be held this Friday, Sept. 1, from 5:30 to 7:30 p.m., and the show will run through Oct. 6 at UNM's Jonson Gallery (1909 Las Lomas NE). For further immersion, take part in a panel discussion with the artists on Tuesday, Sept. 5, at 5:30 p.m. Museum hours are Tuesday through Friday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission and events are free. For more information, call 277-4967 or visit www.unm.edu/~jonsong.
Question: What do cultural luminaries such as Paul Simon, Madonna and Demi Moore all have in their private collections? Answer: A piece of art crafted by Albuquerque native Cynthia Cook. Cook’s work has a unique style that incorporates tin work, Native American silversmithing, medieval chasework and repoussé to create haunting fabricated boxed worlds filled with nests, bones, insect wings and shells. Cook has exhibited her organic montages internationally but she is bringing her masterpieces back home for the month of September. The one-woman show will kick off with a reception on Friday, Sept. 1, from 5 to 8 p.m. at the Mariposa Gallery (Amherst and Central). The exhibit will run through the end of the month. For details, call 268-6828.
In the beginning, my brothers and I imagined they were as rare as Ferrari Testarossas, just as unlikely to turn up in our small Pennsylvania town. Yet we knew they existed. There was a whisper about the magazine racks at the slushy stand that said so. Playboy magazines were printed and bound and distributed to happy men all across America. We just weren’t allowed to see one. Until we did.
A couple weeks ago, we ran a guide to Albuquerque theater that left out several of the best and brightest movers and shakers on our local scene. You can place the blame for these omissions entirely on the bowed shoulders of Alibi Arts Editor Steven Robert Allen. If your theater or company isn't in this week’s supplemental theater guide, please feel free to e-mail your angry complaints directly to Steve at firstname.lastname@example.org. If you already made a complaint and are still not in either theater guide, send those complaints to Steve as well.
Iran All The Way Home--If we may, for a moment, put the JonBenet Ramsey case aside, a much more pressing issue is at hand.
The Aug. 21 Council meeting saw a full chamber of folks revved up and ready to rumble over workforce housing and land restrictions.
City Councilor Sally Mayer hopes petitioners will think twice before they break the law.
Standing atop a soapbox on the stage of Civic Plaza, Rodrigo Rodríguez, 18, put down the feedback-inducing microphone and spoke to his peers without amplification.
The term frequently kicked around is “hundred-year flood,” but if you can remember more than three such inundations in your own lifetime, that’s probably an inaccurate label to put on what Martineztown went through a couple of weeks ago. It might be more apt to call it a “12-year” flood.
How many churches do you figure we have in Albuquerque?
Our Yellow Pages list 553 churches (I counted them). Every one owns a building, be it a sprawling mega-church with a roller park or a plain cinder block chapel, inconspicuous on a residential street. It all adds up to a lot of real estate, and a lot of dry, safe, empty rooms between Sunday school classes.
At the same time, Albuquerque has an estimated 4,000 homeless people, many of them families with children. Shelters won’t let fathers or teenage boys live among women and girls. Consequently, the price of keeping a homeless family together can mean living out of a car, or worse.
Dateline: Austria--A misguided bank robber was arrested after he tried to hold up his local town hall, thinking the historic building was a bank. Wearing a mask and waving a toy pistol, the unemployed man burst into the town hall in the village of Poggersdorf and shouted, “Hold up! Hold up!” The robber realized his mistake when an employee explained to him where he was, police said in a statement. The robber fled into some nearby woods but was arrested when he came back later to pick up his motorbike, which he had left parked outside the town hall.
Drive-In Movie?--This Friday and Saturday night, Sept. 1 and 2, Albuquerque-based filmmaker Rob Kellar (co-director of Collecting Rooftops) will be screening his new film Carjacked at the Guild Cinema in Nob Hill. The screening will take place at 10 p.m. on both nights. Kellar’s feature-length thriller follows the story of a man (Chris Payne) who has been carjacked at gunpoint and forced to do harmful things to himself and others in order to save his own life. Carjacked was shot on 16mm color film for a penny-pinching $20,000. Kellar will be on hand both nights to discuss his experiences shooting low-budget films here in New Mexico. Tickets are $7 at the Guild Cinema (3405 Central NE).
Let me start this off by stating that I love me some bad movies. In fact, I adore them. Pop The Beastmaster into the ol’ DVD player, slap me down on the sofa with a big-ass bag of Orville Redenbacher and my lady at my side, and I’m one happy sonuvabitch. What I don’t like, however, are shitty movies. What’s the difference? you might ask. Well, the way I see it, a bad movie shows some heart--you can have some fun watching it. Sure, the acting sucks and the effects are crap, but they still manage to be entertaining. Shitty movies, on the other hand, are mind-numbingly dull and pointless. The only fun you get out of these is when you pop ’em out of the player and fling ’em into the ceiling fan. Basically, if you aren’t entertained on some level--what’s the friggin’ point, right?
Perhaps I'm being a bit culturally insensitive, but I've never thought of the British Isles as a source of movie action heroes. Sure, Scotland gave us Bond Man Numero Uno Sean Connery—but even Connery was a bit more of a suave gadget man than a Sylvester Stallone, strip-to-the-waist-and-rip-out-someone's-esophagus type. When I think about the island of Hong Kong, I think of Jackie Chan. When I think about the island of Britain, I think of John Cleese. That's just not a fair fight. But in 2002, London-born tough guy Jason Statham flipped the script, delivering a knockout performance in the dim-witted, but thoroughly entertaining martial arts flick The Transporter.
When United Paramount Network and The WB closed up shop at the end of last season, uniting their efforts to create the singular “CW” network, it left a lot of television stations pondering their fate. Locally, for example, KWBQ-19 became the new CW standard-bearer. But where did that leave sister network KASY-50, the former UPN affiliate? Out in the cold, it would seem.
From Russia, With Love—Once people find out what I do for a living (you're looking at it), it's almost certain that a funny, sometimes emotional conversation about food will follow. It happens a lot, but no two are identical. Food is the great connector, intrinsically bound up in the fabric of every person's life, no matter what their background. Everyone's got to eat, after all.
I am amazed by how many truly great sushi restaurants there are in Albuquerque. Our fair city is strikingly cosmopolitan when it comes to cuisine, and nothing pleases me (and my raw fish-loving palate) more than the rumor of yet another place to get a good caterpillar roll, or a hot, salty bowl of miso soup sprinkled with green onions. Somebody should write Miso Soup for the Soul, because I’m buying, and I know you’re with me, fellow foodies.
“It takes a lot of beer to make wine.” I heard this expression at least a dozen times during my visit to a winery in Napa Valley, Calif. My friend Amy lived and worked on the vineyard, and I had a trip to San Francisco scheduled at the end of October. I thought it would be fun to take a few extra days to visit her in Napa.