By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Kudos, and thank you very much for last week's cover story on meth and its effect on the gay community. As a recovering meth addict, I can relate and appreciate the honesty and courage Rod speaks of. This drug has no boundaries and does not discriminate with who it captures. The story of Rod, like others who have successfully recovered from the meth addiction, needs to be told so that others will know they are not alone in trying to recover -- and more important, that a life without meth is probable and possible!
I congratulate Rod and wish him only success in helping other gays and straights live a life free from their meth addiction. Name withheld on request
This was one of the best, most well-constructed articles I've seen in Westword in a long time. Luke Turf not only provided a bleak view of the issues of meth and the gay community, he offered a balanced and hopeful viewpoint.
Why is it that some gay men self-inflict themselves with temporary lapses of euphoria by using powerful drugs? Whatever the reason, Luke's article had me thinking of how to help. As a 48-year-old vanilla gay man (I guess there are some of us out there) in a long-term relationship, I've got to believe there is something the rest of the gay community could do to help.
Powerful addictions require an overwhelmingly vigorous and supportive community response. Thank you Rod, Bob and Imani for your contributions. To Luke Turf and Patty Calhoun: thank you for the courage to write and publish this article.
Gustavo Arellano, there are several reasons why I read Westword, many of them tedious and trivial. However, every time I read Ask a Mexican, a huge smile appears on my face. You have a humorous and very significant educated outlook to the replies you give -- something that many Mexicanos appreciate and respect you for, and los gabachos didn't even see it coming. They didn't expect to get bitch-slapped with a humorous, cynical and educated can of whup-ass. I commend you: Kudos and buen trabajo, paisa.
via the Internet
I was surprised to see Westword print Connie Page's foolishness in the November 30 issue. First, the North American Free Trade Agreement is a boot on the neck of any infrastructure or solid economic growth in Mexico; economically, Mexico is not allowed to pick itself up off the ground. Furthermore, she claims that "Mexicans are headed to America." Last I heard, Mexico is part of America -- North America, in fact. She claims that "there couldn't be much building going on (in Mexico)," but if not for the people she calls "wetbacks," there would not be much building going on in the United States, either. She complains about Mexicans dancing, maybe because she is jealous. It is well known that people of Anglo descent struggle to dance, perhaps because they lack soul.
Most important, she has no business calling people "wetbacks." It's not cute; it's racist. I would hope Westword would not print some knucklehead's bogus rant about people of African descent if it was littered with the "N" word. Connie Page is a racist bigot and an ignorant lowlife. Ms. Page, why don't you take your selfish, intolerant ideology and your dirty old family back to wherever your people came from?
I respect that this really is the land of opportunity, so I don't hate if someone wants to come here to feed their family and/or fill their pockets. Connie Page should respect the fact that at some point her people came here to get a piece of someone else's pie, and to some people she is not welcome.
This response is in no way meant to be offensive to people of Anglo descent; I am merely poking fun at the non-dancing stereotype. Thanks for understanding.
Connie Page: Open a book, dear. I hate to tell you, but your relatives were the original "wetbacks."
From the tone of your letter, it is clear that you are neither civilized, humane nor intelligent. Don't worry: No one wants to glean anything from your sad little xenophobic world.