Blogs by Peter Karlsen
RSSRaw posts and updates from our writers with info too timely or uncategorizable for print. What, we said something stupid? Chime in, buddy.

Jillian Maresco

Valentine's Card Contest Winner!

We didn't really have a contest, but Jillian Maresco is a total winner

There was no card contest this year, but that didn't stop Jillian from putting together these awesome collages and sending them our way. Thanks Jillian, you rule!

Event Horizon

Tome-ate-o, Tom-ato

Wednesday, Oct 5: Folk Punks

Folk off.

Dream Blog #370

Grungy Elmo

We're in a hospital waiting room waiting to see my dad. J's trying to distract me from my anxiety by telling me about the Alibi's target demographic: Arnold Schwarzenegger. While J is explaining specifics of this, I'm trying to understand the wisdom of targeting a single person … especially one who lives in another state.

The nurse tells me my dad is ready for visitors. J stays in the waiting room and I go into his room, which was just behind the couch we were waiting on. My dad is Danny DeVito. He wakes up and I say, "You're Danny DeVito." He says, "Yes, but I prefer to be called grungy Elmo." We start shooting the breeze.

Then his heart and brain monitors start going crazy. He stays calm, points at them and asks, "What's that all about?" I run to the waiting room and call for a nurse. She comes in, picks up a clipboard, and starts writing. I'm wondering why she isn't doing anything or calling for more help. His monitors flat-line and he looks like he's asleep. The nurse turns to me and, with a chipper attitude, says, "That's weird. People don't usually have such a massive stroke until they're much older." I begin to cry into my hands.

With my head in my hands I hear a monitor start to beep. I look up and Danny DeVito has transformed into Aughra (from the Dark Crystal). The brain monitor is beeping, but the heart monitor is still a flat line. She opens her eyes: her irises are a milky pink. I think to myself, "As if she wasn't terrifying enough already: now she's a zombie."

She begins to sit up. I think to myself, "When I wake up I'm going to sleep on the couch." She looks right at me and moans.

I wake up, gather my things. And head for the couch.

暮しの手帖社 / Public Domain

Dream Blog #369

"That's not at all what the book is about."

I'm at my friend S's house. She lives on top of the mountain. She's half Japanese and recently returned from Japan with a bunch of cool stuff. One of the items she brought back was a book. I'm looking it over. Another friend, Z, asks me what the book is about. I don't really understand it all but it starts off sort of as a comic adventure and slowly turns pornographic. S asks me how much Japanese I know. I explain that I can read kana and know a smattering of kanji and have a limited, though functional vocabulary. She tells me "Oh, okay. That's not at all what the book is about. It's actually a feudal romance." I'm lying down looking at the book trying to figure out how I misunderstood it. S pulls back my eyelids to determine how high I am. I put the book down and she offers me ecstasy. I don't have any money to pay her for it and I have to drive back down the the mountain, anyway, so I decline.

Dream Blog #368

"They didn't even flinch"

N is running a video store among other things. He's got some fancy old computer with a huge CRT and runs vintage role playing software. It's old but impressive for what it is. B is helping me make a character. There's a program that controls character creation. The software is somewhat hard to use but extremely capable. It's something like an early World of Warcraft. N sends B out on an errand (to get something yellow?) There’s a weird tension between them. I'm not sure if it’s because of me or if something happened before I got there. I get stuck on character creation and wait for B to get back to help me. The store is filling up with people so I try to stay out of the way. When B gets back I go out to the parking lot with her. It’s daytime. I look up at her. She’s radiant in the sun. She tells me something but I don't catch/couldn't hear/immediately forget what. I go back in the store as she leaves again to continue on her errand. I go in through the back door. It’s hot in the store so N has propped the back door open with my backpack. It's nighttime. Realizing that it's likely to get stolen, I look for something less tempting to hold open the door. I find a tall thin wicker or rattan waste basket, like one I had in my youth. As I head back to replace it, I see two stereotypical thugs take my backpack. They notice me and bolt. I run out the front of store to head them off. I throw the wicker basket at them, splitting them up. I manage to grab the one with my bag as he suddenly stops running. Grabbing him around the neck from behind in a choke hold, I look over his shoulder and realize there's a group of three cops, one unarmed, one with a pistol and one with an assault rifle. The weapons are trained on the thief. I let go and back off. The cops issue a command and I drop to the ground so as not to get shot. The thief says defiantly ”Well, I guess you’re going to have to shoot me!” He lifts his shirt, draws a gun and fires 45 degrees off target from the police, presumably in an attempt at suicide by cop. They are unfazed and get him to the ground. I realize it's someone I went to high school with. He begins insulting all of us and thrashing at me with his legs. He says something particularly insulting so I move into range of his legs and make contact with his foot. One of the cops and I say in unison “looks like you’re getting charged for assault, too.” He's really angry now, mule kicking from his back with his hands in handcuffs. I go back into the store. A customer in the back near a shelf asks me what happened. I tell him the story. I tell him that when he drew on the police “they didn’t even flinch.”

Whitney Bank / Public Domain

Dream Blog #367

"I'll see you in court!"

I’m in the pet department of a store with my backpack. I’m trying to avoid one of the employees an isle over while acting inconspicuous. I head to the isle he is in and looking over a low palette of fish tanks I no longer see him. Looking around, I can see out of the corner of my eye that he has gone down an adjoining isle and is now behind me. I take note of a four legged fish, approximately the size of a monitor lizard with a combined shape of a lizard, fish and small dog. It’s striped like a zebra and has brightly colored fringe around it’s gills, running from the top of its head down its back, and on its elbows and the back of its knees. I continue to try to remain inconspicuous as I leave the area into the rest of the store. Outside I’m with a group of friends who are trying to buy some weed. It turns out to be a police sting. I know I don’t have anything on me so I’m not particularly worried, but I duck behind a car just to double check that I haven’t inadvertently left something in my backpack. Going through it I find a crown royal bag that has a small container about the size of lip balm in it. Just as I discover it I realize the cops have taken notice of me and ditch it just in case. One of them goes through my backpack and pulls out my check book. In the check book I’ve written in chalk some notes about buying from Corsair and the price. He takes this to be information of a drug deal despite my attempts to explain that Corsair is a brand of RAM. The guy is being a huge dick. I begin to argue with him and mouth off “Fuck you, I’ll see you in court.” I make a joke to my friend, L, who's a really big dude, about how maybe we should just kick their asses and get out of there. The joke is particularly funny because the cop dealing with him is about twice L's size. The cop is black and his teeth are small and widely spaced, like a puppy's. The big cop says “huh?” so I ask him if it’s okay for me to be extremely candid before I tell him the joke.

Dream Blog #366


I'm in a courtyard. There are ponds and fish tanks. My dog, Z. has dug space around and under a pond that's approximately the size, shape and depth of a bathtub, so that she can get under it. The water, though suspended by nothing, keeps its shape. Z. wriggles under it without disturbing it or getting wet. The water is a milky blue. We're standing next to one of the fish tanks. I take a sip of the salty water from the corner of the tank. A friend is waiting to hear whether the fish in it is sick so he can eat it. There are several sandwich baggies of cocaine in a long, shallow, translucent piece of tupperware. It's reportedly of low quality. Inside a hallway lined with walnut panels we're looking through the open door to the restroom. At textured, amber colored glass window sits half way up and runs the length of the room. A woman tells me how young I still am and to "Just ask A."

Dream Blog #365

"Met Corner"

We're at the parking structure behind the office. S. is dressed up like Jean Luc Picard in his leisure wear. She's introducing someone to town. She tells him the parking structure is called "Met Corner." We scoff at the made up name. "She didn't even call it Robot or TARDIS corner" we remark. I have a mosquito bite on the inside of my bicep. It's large and misshapen. It looks somewhat like an over ripe strawberry or the tip of a tongue.

Dream Blog #364

"Why would you do that?"

It's the zombie apocalypse. I've found a hatchet and strap it to my chest. It feels right. C., G.C. and their friends pick me up outside in a white sedan. They're tripping really hard and dose me. We speed through the streets. I lean out the window and yell "I'm sorry!" to all the zombies we pass. C. thinks it's super funny. We get to a warehouse and clear out the zombies. I realize the short reach of a hatchet makes it kind of a crummy choice. C. is compelled to eat part of one of the corpses, a black and green organ about the size of a mouse. There were kid zombies and we're all upset, mad and sorrowful. Soon C. vomits gallons of liquid until the organ comes out. She's compelled to eat it again. I ask "Why would you do that?"

The Daily Word in Trump and Martinez, Cop on Cop Violence and Discrimination

The Daily Word

Despite being unethical and possibly illegal APD's reverse drug stings will continue.

New Mexico In Depth asks primary candidates about Marijuana policy and probably other things, too.

Garcia's Kitchen is being sued for discrimination.

Now Trump's trying to buddy up to Gov. Martinez.

The Sherrif's deputy who shot another deputy takes the stand.