In response to the disgruntled smokers who seek to protect their addictions in the guise of protecting my “rights.” [Letters, “A Little Less Free,” March 29-April 4] … I have the right to urinate. Your table, or mine?
Tom Davidson Albuquerque (vol. 16 no. 15; April 12-18, 2007)
[RE: Commentary, “EDo: Albuquerque’s Boob Job,” Jan. 25-31] I am certainly impressed with the revitalization of the Central Avenue corridor between I-25 and Broadway over the past five years. However, as a longtime resident of the erstwhile “Huning Highlands” and various other Downtown neighborhoods, I felt compelled to come up with a list of new neighborhood names which evoke more of a sense of place than “EDo.” Perhaps, the city and/or developers should consider using one or more of the following ‘silk purse’ monikers for future efforts at Downtown gentrification: “HoDo,” “HoboDo,” “ConDo” or “Ex-ConDo.”
[RE: Letters, “Call it Querky,” Aug. 2-8] Sorry, Jenny DeBouzek, but you obviously have very ignorant neighbors. For the record, 'Burque was not invented by the Alibi, nor was it developed in some marketing firm. Burque (pronounced Burr-que, not Burkee) is the very soul of what makes my city so beautiful. Burque is our home, our place, our center. Burqueños know that as long as we have the Sandias by our side, we're gonna be alright. Burque is a feeling, not a catch phrase. Burque is where we're from, not where we live.
I'm not sure who said it first, but I am sure that for many of us, Burque is sacred. In the simplest terms, Burque is a cariño (an endearment) that we use to show our affection for our beloved, beautiful city. Burque is our identity and I take offense at Ms. DeBouzek's slight of our beloved name ... only to say that "Keep It Querque" is somehow better (talk about marketing gimmicks)!
Burque has survived three terms of Marty Chavez; we can certainly weather the storm of ridiculous gimmicks such as "Keep it Querky" and "The Q."
Andrea J. Serrano Burqueña (vol. 16, no. 32; Aug. 9-15, 2007)
You guys need to tell the pervs who write your crossword puzzles that normal people don't like to stand downwind from stink bombs. The clue for 6 Down this week was “Where not to stand from a strong odor” and the answer was “Upwind”?
Jim Crowther Albuquerque (vol. 16, no. 18; May 3-9, 2007)
[RE: The Real Side, “Albuquerque's Death Squads,” Aug. 16-22] How do we know we have a gang problem? APD says so.
Any factual details to back that up? That's classified.
Really? You want to suspend the Constitution in order to criminalize a class of people but you can't bother to give me any evidence that these people exist? APD says they're dangerous! What don't you understand about that?
OK, APD is our city's premier crime-fighting outfit, all protecting and serving, that's cool. I'll take APD's word that they know what they're doing and they know all about who is a gang member, what they're up to and which gangs they're in; how do we fight them? How do we stop these rapacious career criminals? Make them fill out paperwork ... Bwah ha ha ha ha!
Paul Bossert Albuquerque (vol. 16, no. 35; Aug. 30-Sept. 5, 2007)
As an old and ugly woman I would like to have the option of wearing a burqa without being even more of a stared-at freak in America. I'm sick of struggling with my flyaway hair and changing out of my comfortable house rags into unstained clothes, trying to hide my overly large mammary glands with layers and vests, taking a good 20 minutes to go outside the door to do some boring chore that takes less time to do then getting dressed. Then as soon as I step back into my dwelling place I have to change back into my house rags before permanently staining my street clothes, as I'm always doing something messy and creative.
However, in summer, in the burning asphalt pit of a city, I'd like to go naked because I need the the vitamin D of the sun to relieve joint pain on the areas of my body that have never seen the light of day, except when hiding in the woods.
Summertime nudity is far more modest and less alluring than the clothes most non adolescent women wear, with cellulite, flab and varicose veins.
With the option of a burqa, women could easily conceal all kinds of protective weapons, even machine guns.
Whoever pays the fiddler usually calls the tune. When a “scientific” study comes out saying that coffee is not harmful, always ask: Who paid for that study? Follow the money trail! If anyone who makes money off coffee helped pay for that study, do not swallow the claimed results as truth! Never swallow as truth the claimed results of any study approving booze, pharmaceutical drugs, sugar, coffee, chocolate, meat, dairy, nuclear power, cell phones, computers or whatever if people who make money off that item helped pay for that study to be done. Do not be their duped fool! Do not let them con you into buying or eating or using something harmful so they can make money off you.
News stories about a health safety study usually do not provide a complete list of who all paid for the study.
Many scientists sell their brains, careers and consciences. The cancer of money addiction corrupts and makes many people prostitutes in all occupations.
If the persons conducting the research eat or use the item being studied, often they downplay the dangers of the item regardless of the actual study results because they do not want to face up to the painful truth and change their own lives. Scientists' personal addictions and prejudices often distort their public conclusions.
I aim to speak, write and live the truth as best I see it. I lived well in 2006 on $3,635 for my total living expenses—that is considerably less than one half the U.S. poverty level for me as a single person under 65. My conscience and life are not for sale!
Don Schrader Albuquerque (vol.16 no. 13; March 29-April 4, 2007)
Schradering Like The Don
That does it. I'm Schradering. I've invented this new term. It's a verb, and it refers to what you do when you're mad as hell and you're not gonna take it anymore, when voting is just not cutting the mustard because corporations you never get to vote for have hijacked the government and run off with the planet to gobble it all up like a pit bull with a carcass, and old snarl-face Cheney and his Dubya finger puppet blithely crank up the slaughter while the do-nothing Democrats piss and moan but eventually just belly-up and hand over the checkbook. You get so fed up, you do like the Don. Don Schrader, that is.
I like the Schrader approach. It's nonviolent, very effective in large numbers and recognizes a simple fact: A person can control nothing on this Earth but their own self. If even 30 percent of us decided to Schrader, I bet we would effectively drain the money-pool these corporate sharks depend on and leave them all gasping and flopping and wondering why we just aren't buying it anymore.
Really, I thought it would be a major drag to give up owning a car. I felt some real trepidation, as if I had just signed up for an expedition to the Southern Magnetic Pole without a parka or huskies. I made it a lot easier on myself by getting a job within walking distance of my home; and with all the walking and bicycling, I've never been in better health. Exercise has become a real pleasure, which is naturally integrated into my new lifestyle rather than something I never have time to schedule in. I am over the 40 hump this year, and I have a butt like a 16-year-old to show for all this altruistic commitment. Also, in giving up a car, I have given up car payments, auto insurance, traffic stress, gas prices, hideous repair bills and all those red-light camera worries along with the rather frighteningly high odds of being all mashed up in a highway accident. Just try to imagine all the money I save.
I thought of a bumper sticker that says: “Park your car, not your ass,” but I figure it would look pretty stupid on a car, and even stupider on my ass. Have you seen the Don lately? Well, you can't really help it, since he runs around practically naked, but he must be at least 60 and he looks all buff and fabulous. As for me, I'm gonna keep my clothes on, thank you, and continue with my “straight but not narrow” sexual orientation. I would not go back to car ownership if you paid me. In Berlin, where I lived for a time, several neighbors would get together and share a car and all its expenses. There's an idea.
Beth Moore-Love Albuquerque (vol.16 no. 25; June 21-27, 2007)
Run a Red for Meth
I was appalled to discover in Marisa Demarco's “From Prying Eyes” [Feature, Jan. 25-31] that $250,000 of the money taken from red-light runners and speeders was use to “fight” meth.
What are these new cameras really for—keeping Albuquerque safe from “careless” drivers or keeping Albuquerque “safe” from the freedoms it should never have been stripped of in the first place?
It's pretty sad that not until another prohibition of leisure and creative expression—or the complete eradication of leisure and creative expression—are people going to realize they have woken up into the worst nightmare imaginable and that we and our fellow citizens were the true enemies in the war against happiness—not meth.
Meth can be just as “good” as everything else when used in a healthfully balanced and responsible manner and just as “bad” when used irresponsibly or excessively ... so why should we “fight” and “kill” meth just because it requires the same eduction and understanding everything else requires to be used in a beneficial way?
All the propaganda and lies used by our government and media to “fight” meth and destroy the lives of its users make me sick and are just more proof that they use shameful, coercive and pathetic tactics to achieve their own selfish, soulless agendas.
Shame on the City of Albuquerque for helping to further fuel this “suck as much of the life and love out of everything so we can get others to produce as much as possible for ourselves” machine ... and thank you, Marisa and everyone at the Alibi, for your time and energy spent bringing us the facts!
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