By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
Tit for tat: I love women who bitch about the word "bitch." They're so naively earnest, like Becky Due ("Bitch, Bitch, Bitch," July 27). And like Leon, who left that groveling male apologia on Becky's blog. I like to jerk their chains!
Becky should be flattered by all the attention paid to her gender in the English vocabulary. The more words a language has to describe a thing, the more important that thing is to the language's speakers. Spaniards have words for more than thirty kinds of bull. Eskimos have at least nine words for snow, each of which has its linguistic variations. English has more euphemisms for "drunk" than does Italian, while Spanish beats both with 69 terms for getting potted. Sailors have coined approximately 390 words for wind.
There are a lot of Anglo-Saxon words describing women and their parts, because women and their parts are the preeminent preoccupation of Anglo-Saxon civilization. Be proud of your tits, boobs, buns, snatch and nitty-gritty, Becky!
Oh"nitty-gritty" is a bit of 1930s Negro slang that refers specifically to the last two inches of a vagina.
A site for sore ears: Your link to Becky Due's site on her blog works, but there isn't anything on her "bitch crusade" there. I wanted to see what she thought of the use of the variant "beeyotch." Probably against that, too.
Editor's note: The B-word campaign link has been moved to www.committoyourself.com.
It's not easy being green: With regard to "Barking Up the Wrong Tree" (Off Limits, July 20), it's interesting to note that the mayor's Greenprint Denver initiative makes no mention of one of the most important and long-lasting decisions facing the city: the choice of vehicle for the numerous FasTracks lines currently being planned. While diesel technology would negatively impact the air we breathe and extend our reliance on non-renewable energy sources, electric trains are quiet, have superior capabilities and can run on the wind. Let's have some foresight and make a real difference.
Road hogs: Regarding last week's letters, while I agree that bikes have the right to share the road with automobiles, bicyclists need to both use common sense and obey the traffic laws. Do not think that you are immune from the requirements to signal lane changes or stop for stop signs and stoplights, and do not attempt to pass vehicles on the right that have their right turn signals on.
As far as common sense goes, attempting to exercise your rights against a 2,000-pound-plus vehicle will inevitably result in the bicyclist being injured or killed if the vehicle driver is not paying attention. No law written by man has ever changed the laws of physics.
Man of mystery: Thank you for your article on Russell Enloe ("American Ace," July 13). It is only fitting that letters and stories continue to be shared about this enigmatic man. Though his broken leg, many surgeries and pain pills certainly weakened his heart and set these events in motion, the truer story lies in the "Urban Flight" article by Jared Jacang Maher on March 30.
Having lived in the Baker District for seven years, I frequented, was privy to and witnessed many of the horror stories about the South Broadway slumlords, with their crumbling buildings, bad plumbing, leaky, inferior roofs and questionable electricity.
These landlords refuse to fix problems and haggle or deny any credits or reimbursements for any improvements the proprietors might have made themselves. They have no loyalty to the years you may have been a tenant and refuse to sell any of these properties, all the while increasing rents because they are jealous of what prices another particular location may be commanding. They would rather drive out good businesses in hopes of landing another 3 Kings-type lease.
Russell knew a lot of people from all walks of life, and his involvement with drugs (this time) was a last-ditch effort to save his business, not unlike one John DeLorean.
Funny man: Adam Cayton-Holland's rant about the hallucination machine (What's So Funny?, July 27) is quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever read. Granted, I was very hung over and possibly even still drunk when I read it. Still, my friend and I cried tears of joy while we laughed obnoxiously loud -- so loud, in fact, that everyone at Ink decided to have their coffee outside in the 90-degree weather that morning. Thank you for enabling us to laugh away an excruciating hangover and bother all the middle-aged coffee drinkers.
The ties that bind: I enjoyed Juliet Wittman's review of The Wiz ("Oz, Against All Odds," July 13) put on by PHAMALy. My daughter, Nikki, who has spinal muscle atrophy, performed in two plays with the company: Once Upon a Mattress and Pajama Game. The original founders, Teri Westerman, Kathleen Traylor, Kevin Ahl and Gregg Vigil, all knew my brother, Diego, who went to the Boettcher School and performed in Oliver Twist with them. Teri even used to ride the bus with my brother. It was a pull to the heartstrings to discover this connection since Diego died of muscular dystrophy in 1977, but my connection with Boettcher high school students continues through PHAMALy. Whoever the drama teacher was back then in the early '70s made a big impression on those kids.
Mystic pieces: Finally! Thank you for such a great review of Fissure Mystic, a kick-ass band (Playlist, July 20). Seriously, these guys are awesome musicians. I love the drummer, Fez; he's a great re-creation of Carlos Santana (back in the Woodstock days). These guys are going places. When Tom Murphy compared the band to Sonic Youth and said how its new CD Rather Ripped is kickin' ass, well, people are going to get curious and want to hear Fissure!
Great review. Rock on, guys!
Mother Earth: Regarding Michael Roberts's review of BaSheBa Earth's Mothership, in the July 20 Playlist:
I really like this album. I picked it up at Twist & Shout. I hope this lady plays somewhere soon. Thanks for reviewing it.
Pulling the plug: I read Michael Roberts's review of Eddie Turner's new CD, The Turner Diaries (Playlist, June 29). Sorry to say, here we go again: Michael, there is no category of Blues called "Electric." It's Urban, Country and Piedmont. For more about the Blues, contact the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. They have the information you want.
Wahoooo: My husband and I regularly read Patrick Osborn's Drunk of the Week column and send it to our son, a West Point grad currently serving in Iraq. (Go Army, beat Air Force!) He enjoys hearing about what is going on here in Denver and looks forward to his own drunken adventures upon his return, hopefully in September.
I wanted to comment on your July 27 article regarding Wahoo's Fish Taco, and David Crosby and Larry Hagman and their liver transplants. Did you know that both of these gentlemen were infected with Hepatitis C, and although alcohol and drugs may have exacerbated their liver damage, Hepatitis C is now the leading cause of liver transplants in the U.S.?
I would like to suggest that you stop by Charlie Brown's on September 15, from 6 to 9 p.m., for a benefit concert to benefit our nonprofit, Hep C Connection.
Hep C Connection
No whine before its time: Michael Roberts's pathetic obsession with me, my family and my businesses has resulted in a "negative" and "inaccurate" slant. In the June 29 Message, he reports that my national syndication is a "downturn" in my fortunes when, in fact, it will be financially more lucrative. He also fails to mention that my syndication will continue on weekends (my choice). He whines that I should not be involved in business because I am a journalist. And he continually chastises Fox 31 management for not reining me in.
Poor, pathetic Michael. He so desperately wants me to be a journalist so he can have me kicked out of the club. I never professed to be a journalist. I do not call myself a journalist. I am not a journalist. I gather information objectively and report both sides. But I definitely take a stand. I give advice and opinions on a daily basis on radio and TV. People never doubt where I stand. Does he realize that his obsession and disdain for me are clouding his judgment? His whining stories about me are not that interesting. People are beginning to notice that he is obsessed.
Give it a rest, Michael. I have been doing what I do for more than thirty years and better people than you have taken their best shots.
via the Internet
Editor's note: For Tom Martino's take on recent More Messages blog items -- and why he drops the F-bomb -- go to www.westword.com/blogs/.