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V.25 No.16 | 04/21/2016
press release image

Event Horizon

Get With the Times

Saturday, Apr 30: Albuquerque Renaissance Faire

Food, music, demonstrations, arts and activities all recreated from the Middle Ages.

News

The Daily Word in space menses, Vietnamese brides and the moon of Makemake

The Daily Word

Ever pondered space menses?

Hillary Clinton is setting up offices in ABQ.

A local high school baseball team is cheering up a sick teen for her birthday.

This article will bridge the gap in your knowledge of bridges.

There is a massive and awful market in China for Vietnamese brides.

A moon has been discovered that orbits the dwarf planet Makemake.

For all those adults who don't have a squad, here's how to get one.

Curious about demonology?

Don't feel bad, plankton get drunk too.

This is the most polluted city.

via morguefile

Event Horizon

Who Needs Picasso?

Friday, Apr 29: ArtsUnexpected

This student-curated event features over 250 artists including filmmakers, dancers, thespians, visual artists and musicians performing and showcasing their works across campus.
Allen Russell Photography

Event Horizon

Pow WOW!

Thursday, Apr 28: Gathering of Nations

Competitive performances, food, music and art at the largest pow-wow in North America.
V.25 No.14 | 04/07/2016
via morguefile

Event Horizon

Water Shoes Not Required

Sunday, Apr 17: Down in the Bosque Opening Reception and Talk

Artist Alan Paine Radebaugh discusses his work.
V.25 No.15 | 04/14/2016

The Daily Word in Animals, Science and Exploiting Teen Girls

The Daily Word

So a cop got basically no punishment for following an unarmed man and shooting him dead.

Could this simple solution really help end sexual assault on American campuses?

Bernie Bros come in all sizes and varieties. Fantastic.

Animals don't give a fuck about you and your nonsense.

In a survey of over 1,000 people, researchers were able to confirm something everyone already knew. What a good way to spend time and money.

Have you ever been so infatuated with someone that you didn't notice a crime happening right in front of you?

“I’m 28. I make $4 million a year. What do you do?” yells the man-child douche-bag, David Brackett.

Some horrible young men in town have been caught exploiting teen girls.

V.25 No.14 | 04/07/2016
via compfight

Event Horizon

Me-ow!

Saturday, Apr 16: Like an Animal: The Grazing and Sex Tour

Resident experts divulge the details of the curious romantic rituals and strategies of animals. Price includes cocktails and appetizers.
via compfight

Event Horizon

¡Ay, caramba!

Saturday, Apr 16: Fiestas de Albuquerque

Enjoy the history and traditions of Albuquerque with live entertainment, artists, food, shopping, and free children's activities.
V.25 No.13 | 03/31/2016
via compfight

Event Horizon

All Students (ahem, properly filled-in scantrons) Matter

Wednesday, Apr 13: First We Walked Out, Now We Opt Out

A town hall on standardized testing. Featuring special guest Janelle Astorga, co-leader of the Albuquerque High School PARCC walk outs.
V.25 No.10 | 03/10/2016
Robert Maestas

Best of Burque Voting Countdown

Eight Days Left

Did you know that elephants can be pregnant for two years? Well, you only have eight days left to cast your ballot for this year's Best of Burque. Polling is online only, here is a direct link.

So vote, Albuquerque! Tell us who/what/where is best! There is even a write in category, in case we left something out.

Polling closes on March I8 at noon. Rock the vote!

V.25 No.9 | 3/3/2016

Opinion

Downtown Gets a Facelift

The city’s plans for renovation start this year

Albuquerque’s downtown has major renovations in different stages of development, some of which you'll be seeing signs of this year.
V.25 No.9 | 03/03/2016
Courtesy of the author

Flash Fiction

Royal Eddie Never Showed Up

When Hawkins told us he wanted to party, we were sitting out on the porch at Stanford house drinking Coors Beer from small brown bottles. The swamp cooler was on the fritz. Sundown was coming on slow. We were watching to see whether the rockers across the street would open up their front door to let their pet pig, Royal Eddie, run around the front yard.

Tim Hunter suggested we coax one of our housecats into the ensuing fracas. He was an Earth-First fellow convinced of the cruelty of nature. So he was mean as hell to animals and most humans too. He worked at an art movie theater near the college. Hunter liked to scour the auditorium for used popcorn buckets after every show. He'd sneak them into the men's room, clean out the cardboard cylinders as good as possible. Then he would fill them up with corn and resell them for a buck and a quarter each.

Tim spent his days off camping and fishing so he wasn’t around much. We threw bottle caps at him or gave him the finger whenever he talked nonsense. He’d usually shut up and creep back to his room, rubbing his hands together like they were still covered in a flavorful artificial butter concentrate.

And Royal Eddie never showed up. It turns out he was feigning delirium that evening—amidst four heshers, three deconstructed Triumph motor bikes, two empty cases of Foster’s Lager and a quarter inch of mud, four stroke oil and vomit.

So it was a good thing Hawkins was having a motel party that night. It would be a gift to bounce from the hood. He walked up to the porch, checked the mail and asked when Tim was moving out. By the way, he gravely intoned, I have rented a room at the Lorlodge. That was a sketchy motel with a swimming pool right off the 25 on the other side of the student ghetto.

I had been working as a welder for a month and told Hawkins I wanted to make it a special occasion. I thought it would be ironically summer-weather defying to wear my leather jacket and safety hat and parade down there in style. Chauncy the actor who worked at the Steak and Ale up by Winrock agreed; he put on his tux and patent leather oxfords. Hawkins grabbed his scuba gear from out the closet, fins and all. We started walking down Central Avenue.

When we passed the Fat Chance Bar and Grill, I heard a rock band playing. Damned it if wasn't A Murder of Crows. But we didn't go in because Hawkins owed Junius and Caleb a sawbuck and two pints besides.

On the other side of University Boulevard a fellow in a green beret with a red flag fixed to it jumped out from the doorway of a storefront. He asked if we wanted to come to his meeting of the Communist party. They were having ice-cold refreshments and a discussion on Marx in the twentieth century, he said, smiling wanly. Chauncy told him our party would be better, handed him a half-smoked jazz cigarette that he had been fiddling with earlier and did his best impression of Harpo.

As we passed Mulberry Street, three of the groovy gals we knew from art school turned the corner named for a big green tree and the middle of things. It was Split-level Lisa, who dressed in black but took photos of colorful birds; the magenta-haired performance artist named after a Hindu goddess and her pal Caroline from Sarah Lawrence College.

They were on their way to Jack's Bar to get a case of Olympia and the Hawaiian-style pizza to go. Since I was full of feria after working on water tanks and decorative wrought iron all week, I offered to pitch in. I told them about the cable teevee at the motel and how they had a pool and air conditioning too.

And Lisa thought that was just fine. She started to tell how she needed a new set of trucks but a helicopter was landing at the big hospital by the freeway and her voice sounded like flowers coming apart in a storm. The blades were spinning fast and fluttering around like they were made of hummingbird wings. The hot air of July swirled around us while the engine roared and roared. A security guard with a steel badge shaped like a seven-sided star chased us away when we got too close.

The six of us ran the rest of the way with heat rising off the sidewalk and the light turning rosy on account of the earth’s rotation. Parvati lost her left flip-flop and Hawkins both his fins to the highway underpass. But just as the sun touched the horizon, we crossed over and waltzed into the office at the Lorlodge, laughing like we owned the place.

V.25 No.7 | 02/18/2016

ABQ Bands Show Off at the Local Band Showcase

The City of Albuquerque's Special Events team is looking for metro-based bands that would like to show off their talent in downtown Albuquerque in a Spring kick off event. The Local Band Showcase is a great opportunity for bands to appear before a crowd, build momentum and energize their fan base.

On Friday, April 1 from noon-7:30pm, Civic Plaza will rock with the sounds of 15 local bands performing a variety of musical genres. The event is free and a great opportunity to bring the whole family for an afternoon of music, food from local trucks, and local beer and wine.

Local venue and concert promoters will be in attendance to check out the show. Bands can meet entertainment bookers from the BioPark, Summerfests, Convention Center, Old Town and some Santa Fe venues.

Now is the time to sign up your band if you want to be included! Complete the online application at cabq.gov/culturalservices/local-band-showcase. Bands will be selected based on their submitted music, as well as their genre, to ensure a good mix for the event, not on a first come first served basis. A Local Band Showcase performance does not guarantee an opportunity to perform at a City event or venue.

Morguefile.com/Matthew Hull

Flash Fiction

"A Duodene of Bird Notes"

She was busy stuffing her clothes, jewelry, books and records into the big straw bag she carried with her everywhere. She was getting ready to go back to wherever she went every morning as the sun climbed up into the sky and the earth turned around and around.

Scrape, scrape, scrape, went the sound of the razor against Charlie’s face. It was summertime. The Ford dealership was doing fine. No one seemed to give a bird’s beak whether he came in hung over. He could flutter into the showroom with eyes like a raven has; everything would still be okay.

Sandy sang out from the bedroom. She couldn't find her keys and was cussing like a mechanic does when that one important bolt just won't come off. Charlie lit on the bed roughly and goose down went flying everywhere.

He wiped the Barbasol from his face and smoothed out the mess. Charlie said to go outside and have a look-see. Sure enough, the keys were dangling from the door.

Sandy waltzed back in, shot Charlie a dirty look and took off. She was clutching her bag in one hand and a pair of maryjanes in the other. The door banged shut, but she would phone him later.

Charllie looked around the room, gave his dog Dutchess a pat on the head and walked over to the kitchen. He poured a cup of coffee, smoked a Pall Mall and admired the bright light filling up the place.

The phone rang just after midnight. An hour later, Charlie could hear Sandy’s truck chugging up the hill to Ridgecrest. The only other sounds were from nightjars or from the trains coming and going at the station by the Alavardo.

Charlie and Sandy got drunk and listened to the records she brought over. And then they did it together; sweetly swooping through the red wine and white sheets as if the world around them were just a shiny bead at the bottom of a deep pool. In between rounds, she talked about the movies she'd seen at the Sunshine and told about the books she had been reading.

Charlie didn't know much about any of those books or movies, but he sure liked to listen to Sandy talk. She had a voice like a bird; it was made from feathers and bones, eggshells and promises.

Dutchess barked. Charlie realized he was late for work. He rose, and checked the door before he left for the day. “It's locked, I shook it,” he half-whistled as he wandered down to Nob Hill.

On the way to the shop Charlie saw two hawks, a roadrunner and at least ten sparrows. Those were hopeful signs he mused; he hoped like hell he'd sell a car that day. It was the Friday before the Fourth of July. Charlie was damned if there wasn't some patriotic eagle out there he couldn't talk into a Ford.

V.25 No.5 | 02/04/2016
sunsets
the author

Runaway

I have lived in Albuquerque for most of my life. I don’t know anything different, which has created a restlessness within me. Sometimes I get the urge to run away, to get in my car and drive far, far away from here. However, because I usually only have enough gas in the tank to get home and my Jeep is one speed bump away from falling apart, I know that it ain’t happening any time soon. The one thing that does keep me grounded, and reminds me how beautiful and unique this city and this part of the country is, are the sunsets. I’ve almost gotten in several minor car accidents trying to snap a picture of the incredible sunsets I see on my way home. I’ve pulled over into school, store and abandoned parking lots to watch and document the setting sun. Everyone who rides with me is used to my sudden inclination to shout, “but look at the clouds!” and even indulges me in assisting with the camera on my phone so that we don’t plunge into oncoming traffic. So the next time you are feeling stressed about life, I suggest getting to somewhere high up that has a clear view away from trees and buildings, and just watch the beauty in the sky. Or you can always hop in my car and we’ll hit the freeway, chasing that golden light.

Today's Events

A night of non-stop, side-splitting, no-apologies comedy with four of the nation’s top female comedians.

Lone Piñon • acoustic, traditional, New Mexican, variety at The Deck at the Mine Shaft Tavern

New Mexico: The Civil War at El Rancho de las Golondrinas

More Recommended Events ››
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