By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Well, thanks for letting me know never to spend a dime at Pleasures, due to its association with Mike Wheeler. This poor excuse for a human being seems to have no other goal than the degradation of women and himself. I don't think it's pleasurable for most women to be ridden like a horse in a crowded club, having the crowd laugh when you hit your head. Doesn't seem like it was for the dancer, either, considering the description of her smile as "wan."
And as for his failed attempts to gain laughs and attention by insulting the stripper's looks at La Bohème, then shooting others with a toy dart gun and attempting to ride yet another woman like a horse, he certainly deserved what he got. It has nothing to do with economic class, but with Wheeler's obvious failure to view the workers of the sex industry as fully human.
No amount of money he can offer makes up for that kind of degradation and disrespect. I only hope he learns to look at women as full humans one day and to treat them accordingly. Until then, send him to me. I'd be happy to teach him how to treat a strong, confident chick. Now that, my friends, would be a pleasure.
"January Therapy," Kenny Be, January 11
I really dig Kenny Be's cartoons, but I thought I'd let you know that his last Worst-Case Scenario is anatomically incorrect. His champion steer is sporting a set of round, baseball-sized 'nads. The defining difference between a bull and a steer is testicles. Bulls have 'em, steers don't. Just so you know for next time. I know how Westword likes to characterize Denver as a cowtown, and since that's part of our identity, Denverites could only benefit from knowing about such things as bull balls.
P.S.: For the sake of art study, they would be oblong, the size of two softballs and sagging a few inches down.
I do not think the objective of a food writer is to be controversial...perhaps I am wrong. Jason Sheehan's verbose diatribe on John Holly's Asian Bistro indicates he is a pompous windbag who should eat at McDonald's drive-thru and might be content with its consistency and service.
"A Bumpy Ride," Off Limits, January 4
I'm not much of a football fan, and I admit that I didn't even know who Darrent Williams was before he was murdered, but I think that complaining because the crime scene closed your street and then bragging about who-all was at the party before he got murdered shows complete lack of respect for the loss of a life. Shame on you!
Like many Beat fans in Denver, I'd been eagerly anticipating the On the Road scroll exhibit. While I enjoyed most of Amy Haimerl's article and celebration of the literary side of Denver, one clarification must be made: Jack Kerouac had more than a "ten day" connection with Denver. He lived here in the summer of 1949 and bought a house in Starwood (known as Lakewood today). As the wonderful book Selected Letters Jack Kerouac: 1940-1956 points out about his arrival in Denver on May 15, 1949, "His letters to his friends were filled with the exhilaration of experiencing a dream come true" (page 189). Many of his observations and experiences documented in the letters from May to July of that year became part of On the Road.
"Hell, even the Nazis had the decency to not stage Kristallnacht during the Sabbath." I realize Gustavo is trying to write an edgy column, and what difference does it make, anyway, but it takes a very special talent to combine "Nazis" and "decency" in the same sentence. Historically, the Nazis went out of their way to perpetrate particularly brutal massacres on Jewish holidays.