Alibi Volume 19, Number 36
September 9, 2010
Winners of our 2010 Haiku Contest
Writing haiku sounds really, really simple, doesn't it? The form is elementary: Just five, seven and five syllables, and wham-o, you've got a poem. It's not as easy as it sounds, though. Since the early August announcement of this here contest, I've been trying to think up a congratulatory haiku for all the entrants and have come up with exactly nothing.
John Anczarski, 19, was cycling across the country with three friends to raise money for breast cancer research. The University of Colorado student began his trip in Pennsylvania and was heading for San Diego. He was 10 days from his destination on June 21 when an SUV in Laguna, N.M., ran him off the road. He suffered head trauma and died the next day at UNM Hospital.
Downtown’s Segway police
Officers Jerome Armijo and Carmen Michaud catch a woman jaywalking at First Street and Central, just across from Alvarado Transportation Center. They run the woman’s name and it hits: She is wanted for felony burglary. After placing her under arrest, they call a detective.
Or so the Martinez camp would have us believe
Watching Susana Martinez' gubernatorial campaign ads, I've been struck by how much they seem to be in sync with many of this summer's big-budget flicks. I suppose both her politics and our taste in fantasy are reflections of our national mood in 2010.
Dateline: New York—A New York City man is being sued after losing track of a $1.35 million painting during a drunken night on the town. According to court papers, James Haggerty says he lost the Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot masterpiece “Portrait of a Girl” after a night drinking at The Mark hotel in Manhattan. Kristyn Trudgeon and Tom Doyle, who co-own the painting, had hired Mr. Haggerty to assist with its possible sale to London gallery owner Offer Waterman. Mr. Haggerty was ordered to take the painting to The Mark, where Mr. Waterman was staying, so he could see it in person. Ms. Trudgeon’s lawsuit, filed in New York Supreme Court, says hotel security footage shows Haggerty leaving the painting at the front desk and entering the hotel’s bar with Waterman at 11 p.m. At 11:30 p.m., the two men return to the lobby, retrieve the painting and have a discussion. “Something just didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to be involved,” Waterman told the New York Daily News. “So I said no, and I said goodbye.” The lawsuit alleges Haggerty redeposited the painting at the front desk and returned to the hotel bar, where he stayed for 90 minutes. At that point, he returned to the lobby and stumbled out of the hotel with the painting, declining a doorman’s offer to call him a taxi. Haggerty finally returned home at 2:30 a.m.—without the painting. The next morning, he phoned Mr. Doyle to inform the owner he could no longer account for the million-dollar-plus painting’s whereabouts. “I think he’s a complete fumbling idiot,” Ms. Trudgeon was quoted as saying in the New York Daily News. “He’s just a complete asshole.”
Management at the historic KiMo Theatre in Downtown Albuquerque is rushing full-force forward with plans to return the venue to its glory days, screening recent and classic feature films via a spanking-new HD digital projection system. This Saturday, Sept. 11, for example, marks the beginning of the Monty-Python-A-Thon. Catch Life of Brian starting at 8 p.m. and Monty Python and the Holy Grail beginning at 10 p.m. Tickets are $8 each film or $12 for the double-feature. ... That takes care of the classic. Now for the new. On Sunday, Sept. 12, at 2 p.m., KiMo will screen Bette Gordon’s indie crime drama Handsome Harry. The well-regarded film stars Steve Buscemi, Aidan Quinn, John Savage and Campbell Scott. It spins the story of a Vietnam vet investigating a decades-old crime for a former Navy buddy. Tickets are $8, available at the KiMo box office (423 Central NW).
Bleak-humored drama goes past black comedy into ... I don’t know, indigo?
There’s black comedy and then there’s Todd Solondz’ sense of humor. Which isn’t so much black as it is ... just plain wrong. Over the years, the writer-director has dug under the skin of middle-class suburbia, exposing the bleak, laugh-or-you’ll-cry ironies of life in these United States. Films like Welcome to the Dollhouse, Happiness, Storytelling and Palindromes are as likely to incite a cringe as a chuckle. Needless to say, he’s not everybody’s cup of tea.
We prejudge TV’s fall season
It’s barely September and the new TV season is already getting underway in force. Are networks finally realizing that we watch TV all year long? Mmm, could be.
The Week in Sloth
(Why your music editor hates herself)
Little over a year from now I'll have endured three decades of carbon-based livin'. Approaching this mortal milestone, more and more I'm beginning to recognize the old hippie dictum—Don't trust anyone over 30—to be a valid, if not troubling, piece of advice. Last week I found myself talking all fuckin' punk about America's teeming population of brainless youth who pass the time sucking from television's homogenizing teat, living generally mundane, unconcerned lives.
One man’s quest to bring decent post-production to New Mexico
Hidden at the back of dead-end road off a tiny side street in Santa Fe is Stepbridge Studios. The only indication of any musical virtue is a painting of John Lennon on the driveway wall. Entering the sound room, however, offers a different perspective.
With headless abandon and in slimming vertical stripes, a performance by Shoulder Voices, Grand Canyon and The Chimpz is announced. Those of legal drinking age can see the local acts for free at Atomic Cantina (315 Gold SW) on Friday, Sept. 10. (Jessica Cassyle Carr)
Random tracks from Bodies of Evidence frontman Pietro Berardinell
Pietro Berardinelli is frontman and rhythm guitar player for ass-shredding Burque metal band Bodies of Evidence. On Saturday, Sept. 11, the four-piece releases its first album, titled A Time to Rise. The party takes place at the Launchpad (21+, $5) starting at 9 p.m. with opening performances by The Ground Beneath, Caustic Lye and Tetelestai. Below is a five-song sampler of Berardinelli’s diverse listening material.
Sometimes life hands you lemons, and when that happens, you’re stuck squeezing the shit out of those lemons onto fried fish in hopes of extracting some flavor and thanking sweet baby Jesus you ordered the regular peas, not the mushy peas. Am I right? Or are you all wondering just how drunk I am, or if I’ve lost my mind and, in either case, what in God’s name I’m babbling about?
Get into the mind of William Gibson
Ask any aficionado to list the foundational texts of cyberpunk and you will surely hear mention of William Gibson's 1984 debut novel, Neuromancer. Cyberpunk, for those not in the know, is a science-fiction sub-genre of urban-noir in which characters repurpose futuristic technologies to get by on the fringes of dystopian societies. Since those early days, the present has made great strides towards catching up with Gibson's imagined future. His latest cycle of books, which concludes with the just-released Zero History, examine our science-fictional present with the same skill set he once used to depict the 2030s. The Alibi caught up with Gibson through the magic of cellular technology in advance of his upcoming talk at the Albuquerque Public Library. In other words, the future is almost here.
Tomatillos are good for more than just salsa
I feel sorry for tomatillos, the way I used to feel for the last kid to get picked for kickball. Tomatillos languish on otherwise empty tables at the end of growers’ markets, often destined for the compost pile because they're nobody’s favorite. It's not their fault. It's just that nobody knows what to do with tomatillos.
Ah, September. The month when I have to start accounting for 20 minutes of extra travel time because I always get stuck in 15 mph school zones. (Wouldn’t it make sense to up the speed limit in the zones of schools that are known for athletics? Those kids are pretty fast.)
ARIES (March 21-April 19): My friend Alana suffered from a mysterious ailment for months. Symptoms included vertigo, stomach pains and numbness in her legs. After being treated unsuccessfully by six health care practitioners, both mainstream and alternative, she went to see Dr. Ling, a Chinese herbalist recommended by a friend. Ling was a dour woman who made no eye contact. Her office was dingy, cramped and windowless. Alana felt a bit depressed by the visit. Yet when she took Dr. Ling's herbs, she felt better. In three weeks she was cured. The moral of the story, Aries: The restorative agent you need may not come in the most inviting form.