Gus Pedrotty—Gus, as he likes to be known—stopped by Alibi Headquarters to discuss a bid for mayor that began as idealistic—and some would say unlikely—but has since been transformed into one of the more vital and remarkable candidacies that have passed through this high desert city in ages.
What did a man and his daughter find on their bike ride? Who's clogging the courts? A first at the Albuquerque Aquarium. And who helped slap the cuffs on a serial robber?
Last Saturday, the Albuquerque Tribune published its final issue, and in its dying gasps, it may have breathed new life into a community thirsting for alternative media.
Dateline: Israel--Earthquakes are gay. At least that’s what a member of Israel’s parliament believes. Six earthquakes have hit Israel and the neighboring nations of Lebanon and Jordan in recent months. Shlomo Benizri, of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish Shas party, has suggested the tremors are being caused by his country’s liberal laws on homosexuality. The Israeli parliament, or Knesset, decriminalized homosexuality in 1988 and has passed several laws on the subject since, including decisions to recognize same-sex marriages carried out abroad and granting inheritance rights and other benefits held by married couples to gay partnerships. Two weeks ago, to the outrage of the religious right, the country’s attorney general, Meni Mazuz, ruled same-sex couples should be allowed to adopt children. In what Mr. Benizri believes is no coincidence, an earthquake struck the region two days later. “Why do earthquakes happen?” Benizri said during a parliamentary debate on earthquake preparedness. “One of the reasons is the things to which the Knesset gives legitimacy, to sodomy.” Benizri told his fellow legislators the most cost-effective way of preventing future earthquakes was to stop “passing legislation on how to encourage homosexual activity in the state of Israel, which anyway brings about earthquakes.” The London Telegraph quoted Benizri as saying, “God says you shake your genitals where you are not supposed to and I will shake my world in order to wake you up.”
Curious what New Mexico’s homegrown filmmakers are up to? Friends of Film, Video and Arts will present an evening of short films by professional New Mexico film artists on Friday, Feb. 29. Among the films scheduled to be shown on the big screen are “Director’s Cut New Mexico: The Art of Storytelling” produced by Rebecca Dakota, “Susan Klebanoff--Waves” produced by Anton Kozikowski, “Black Eagle Flying Free” produced by Brad Stoddard, “Cycling” produced by Ken Knoll, “The Truth About Walden Matussey” produced by Tim Boughn, “Climate Change: What It Means for New Mexico” produced by Anton Kozikowski and “Teardrop” produced by Fritz Eberle. Following the screening will be a Q&A session with the filmmakers. This event will take place from 6 to 9 p.m. at UNM’s Continuing Ed North Building (1634 University). Admission is $19 or $10 for Friends of Film, Video and Arts members. A portion of the proceeds will be donated to FoFVA, a local organization working in conjunction with Harwood Arts to support local, grassroots filmmakers. For more information on the event or the organization, log on to www.filmvideoarts.org.
Regular readers of the alibi.com blog already know it, and now you do, too. Seminal Albuquerque punk trio Scared of Chaka is reuniting for one show on March 28, at the Washoe Club in Virginia City, Nev. It's the first time Yanul Hernandez (now known far and wide as Dave Hernandez), Dameon Waggoner (now Dameon Lee) and Ron Skrasek (still Ron Skrasek) have played together in 10 years. You have questions. I have answers.
Part of The Cradle Project's mission to raise money for orphans in sub-Saharan Africa includes filling a warehouse with 1,000 cradles and cribs made by artists from around the world. The original warehouse space was a 20,000-square-foot building in the railyard that was once a locomotive repair shop. The lease of the space to Albuquerque Studios has changed the plan slightly.
At its inception, Imperial Stout was a savage concoction. The Russian czars’ thirst for stouts could not be quenched, and English and Irish producers couldn’t produce beer that would survive the brutal cold of a month-long trip to St. Petersburg. Their answer was a beer that could withstand any voyage; a brew so high in alcohol that it would not spoil, and so flavorful from roasted malts that it would still taste amazing in the event that it did. Imagine bulging barrels of viscous beer the color of crude oil, hefted deftly one after another by British maritime brutes. Cargo hulls full of alcoholic ballast destined for the dead city of the Eastern Lords …