Mistakenly released DPD After Action Report reveals 27 officers on “shadow operations” at Denver 100 Mask March

Posted on June 28, 2016 by Eric Verlo

DENVER, COLORADO- Hidden deep in the evidence against one of nine protesters arrested at last year’s Guy Fawkes’ Day march in Denver, was an “AFTER ACTION REPORT” never encountered before in discovery evidence available to previous Denver activism defendants. This report has provided the first public mention of “Shadow Teams” deployed on “Shadow Operations” against peaceful demonstrators. Most remarkable was that 27 officers were mobilized for shadow operations, among a total of 169, clocking a total of 1379 man hours, against a rally and march that numbered “around 100” at its peak, to quote the report.

The report was presented to Denver municipal judge Beth Faragher on Monday before the trial of one of the Anonymous arrestees. The judge was asked why discovery evidence didn’t include reports from the “Shadow Teams” detailing, for example, what their shadow operations were. Judge Faragher agreed to continue the trial until September to allow city attorneys to come up with some answers.

One defendant’s lawyer was also provided the Denver Police Department’s Crowd Management Manual, an earlier edition of which was leaked last year by Denver’s Unicorn Riot. The current manual does not differ on this subject and defines Shadow Team as: “A team of officers assigned to identify Persons of Interest as being involved in possible criminal activity based on Reasonable Suspicion.”

There is no disagreement that shadow operations involve undercover officers following targeted activists. The question is what were they doing to maintain their cover? You can’t surveil moving marches from under storefront awnings or hotel windows. To mingle with protesters who have to march with them. To ingratiate yourself with hosts you have to participate. To impress leaders you have to delegate. So what actions were the shadow offices mimicking?

The title “Million Mask March” means to aggregate all the actions across the world demonstrating on Guy Fawkes’ Day, every 5th of November. Individual marches are ridiculed for being mere fractions of a million, in Denver for example, marshalling only a hundred or so. Now, even more humiliating for Denver may be the revelation that up to a quarter of the marchers were undercover cops.

Denver activists are accustomed to infiltrators, such have been photographed and outed regularly, but 27 officers operating in “shadow teams” is news. It may rewrite the last several years of arrest incidents. Arrests of Denver protesters have appeared sporatic and haphazard. Now it seems the targeting may have been restricted to actual protesters, because their shadow companions were not arrestible, by virtue of being cops.

Although Shadow Teams are mentioned in the DPD manual, this After Action Report is the first to itemize their deployment.

Here’s the command structure which list the names of three officers whom lawyers may be able to depose: a Commander Fountain, Lieutenant Mitchell, and Lieutenant Jimenez. Defense lawyers are now considering deposing these officers to learn more about what their operations entail.

Unfortunately the narrative provided in the 4-page after action report does not detail the “shadow” activity. It does however mention the number of anonymous activists which Denver was mobilizing against. From 20 building up to 100 tops. Here’s the full narrative:

Denver Police Department AFTER ACTION REPORT

NARRATIVE OF INCIDENT (Chronological log, if applicable, to be attached)

On 11-05-2015 members of the Denver Police Department were assigned to various locations throughout downtown Denver to monitor the Million Mask March. Response personnel consisted primarily of District SCAT teams, DMU, Metro/Swat and Gang Bureau officers. The MAP Team was staged at 14th and Delaware to facilitate arrest processing. On-duty traffic resources and DPD special units assisted as well. District Six Commander Tony Lopez acted as the Operations Chief and managed activity in the field. The Command Post was maintained at the Denver Crime Lab with representatives from RTD, DSD, DFD, CSP and DHPD.

By 1130 hours about 10 protestors gathered in the 1400 block of Lincoln on the west side of the Capitol. The participants were primarily dressed in black clothing and many were wearing masks. By 1245 hours the crowd grew to over 40 people. They demonstrated peacefully by holding signs and banners. On November 4th the protest group announced a planned march between the hours of 4 – 5 pm. The morning crowds and noon marches that took place in 2013 and 2014 did not occur this year.

Afternoon March

At 1420 hours some group members were observed making signs with spray paint. By 1545 the crowd grew to around 60. At 1640 hours Sergeant Cervera 680 contacted security at the World Trade Center (1625-1675 Broadway) in anticipation of protest activity there (Ben Buthe 720-499-2292 or CP 303-595-7049). DPD was advised that the WTC Plaza closes at 1800 hours.

At approximately 1650 hours officers contacted occupants of a suspicious dark truck NY GMY4295 parked on the elevated lot just east of DPD HQ (1400 blk of Cherokee). The incident checked clear.

At 1700 hours, two individuals wearing Guy Fawkes masks were observed walking southbound in the 1300 block of Delaware and then eastbound on W. 13th Avenue past the south side of DPD HQ.

At 1704 hours the group left northbound on Lincoln from the Capitol. They turned left on the 16th Street Mall but appeared to stay on the east sidewalk. The group turned south on Court Place but quickly crossed the street and walked back toward the Mall. At 1714 hours, some members walked in the street upon being encouraged by an individual with a bullhorn. This action interrupted the RTD Shuttle Service. The entire group then continued their march by walking down the center of the Mall. The Federal Reserve Security office was notified.

At 1725 hours the group rallied a short time at Stout Street and then turned around to march back toward Broadway. They turned west on California and walked toward 15th Street, where they remained on the sidewalk. The group turned right on 15th Street and started an unpermitted march in the street shortly thereafter. DMU officers responded to encourage the protestors back on the sidewalk. Verbal orders were given as well.

The group turned east on Stout and then north on the 16th Street Mall. They rallied for a short time at the Federal Reserve Building at 16th and Arapahoe and then continued northbound on the Mall. The group appeared to number around 100 at this time.

At 1750 hours the demonstrators turned right on Lawrence and marched primarily on the sidewalk toward 17th Street. They stopped momentarily midblock in front of the Westin Hotel then continued outbound on Lawrence. The group turned south on 18th Street where some of the members walked in the street. At 1757 hours, most of the crowd began an unpermitted march in the street 1700 block of Arapahoe. Demonstrators were advised to get out of the street and back on the sidewalk. After refusals to comply, four parties were arrested for the continued violations. Traffic officers diverted vehicular traffic at 18th Street for safety and opened the street at 1805 hours. At 1803 hours a female victim contacted 724A Officer Gates and stated she was assaulted by one of the protestors. District 6 officers were dispatched for the report and an ambulance was called.

The demonstrators continued their march on the sidewalk on Arapahoe toward 16th Street, then turned left on the Mall. They turned west on Curtis and marched across 15th to 14th Street. At 1817 hours an individual wearing a grey backpack with a metal baton attached to the back appeared to be trying to incite a disturbance. The group turned south on 14th and walked toward Champa where they stopped and blocked traffic. At 1820 hours a white male wearing all black with a military-type vest and carrying a backpack with white lettering was advised by police to get out of the street at 14th and Champa.

At 1825 hours the group continued to march south on 14th Street. They crossed California, Welton and Glenarm and then turned east on Tremont. At 1835 hours some members attempted to march in the streets again at 15th and Tremont. DMU officers once again responded to order and marshal the violators back on the sidewalk. The group continued south on 15th Street toward Colfax Avenue. The group marched unpermitted in the streets again on Colfax Avenue eastbound toward Broadway.

At 1844 hours a protestor pushed over DPD Lieutenant Mike Wyatt and bicycle officer Tab Davis at Colfax and Broadway. The suspect was arrested shortly thereafter. A second arrest was made after an individual attempted to “unarrest” the first suspect. At 1858 hours Sergeant Horton reported a felony drug arrest. Once again, traffic and DMU personnel assisted with traffic control in order to maintain a safe environment. Two additional protestors were arrested for disobedience. The protestors ultimately gathered back at the State Capitol and dissipated by around 1930 hours.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, multiple announcements were made by police for the demonstrators to get out of the street. Three Use of Force reports were completed in association with the arrests and three officers suffered injuries. One of the three officers (Cash) was transported to DHMC with a knee injury related to an arrest. Except for those officers involved in an arrest, all units were released by 2000 hours.

The History of the Denver Police Department

Posted on August 4, 2015 by David Lee Anderson

Before the Denver Police Department began murdering the men, women and children of Denver, they were burglarizing Denver homes and businesses.

In 1960, the largest police corruption scandal in the U.S. to date began to unfold. More than 50 area law-enforcement personnel – almost entirely Denver Police Officers were caught in a burglary ring. Cops had stolen over a quarter of a million dollars from businesses they were supposed to be protecting on their beats over a ten-year period. Police cars would close down a few blocks of a major business avenue, such as University or Broadway, then burglarized and stole the safes from the businesses along the closed down portion of the street. Alarms would be going off all up and down the street, they would take their loot, then respond to the alarms and take the reports. It all came to a crashing halt when an officer named Art Winstanley literally had a safe fall out of the back of his police cruiser. He testified against his fellow officers and then by the end of 1961, 47 police officers had lost their badges. The DPD called it “Back Friday”.

Art was sent to the prison in Canon City along with over 40 of his cop buddies. When the prison door swung shut on Art, he complained to the warden that no one liked or respected him, he said the other convicts were being mean to him and spitting on his food tray; these were the convicts that Art had arrested and sent to prison for crimes that he had committed.

Many of these crimes by the Denver Police Department were known and whispered about at the time by other policemen, citizens and politicians, but for fear of retaliation from the cops, they remained silent.

It was only when one rat with his foot in the trap, trying to save himself, exposed the true extent of the crimes of the Denver Police Department. Sixty five years have now passed and the DPD have moved on from burglary to murder.

There are many who speak out for respect for the policeman, they see his blue uniform and badge, read his propaganda of “Protect & Serve” and then slovenly give them a free pass in all matter, they mistakenly think they are incapable of a lie.

These people are the product of police propaganda and a media who quietly sweeps police crimes and brutality under the rug, never to see the eyes of the public.

One of the best examples I can give is of a recent event; A policeman who was called for a disturbance at a Target store, helped a young boy repair his bike.

It seemed the boys bike chain had come off and the policeman helped him put it back on, the incident was reported by another policeman who was also there. It was said the this incident went viral; So what would my complaint be?

Had You or I, ordinary citizens stopped to help this boy, you would never had heard of the incident and it certainly wouldn’t have went viral.

I didn’t see a cop helping the boy, I saw only a man helping the boy. A blue uniform and badge does not make him a saint.
Truth be known; most of the general public have little or no contact with their police department outside of traffic stops. They have little knowledge of how brutal the unchecked police powers have become. And while these brutal crimes go on unchecked by some policemen, the others remain silent; that in itself is a crime. To be a good cop, he must stand up and bear witness to the crimes he has knowledge of, especially when it is wearing a blue uniform and badge. To do less, is to become a partner in crime.

Would that same cop who helped this boy with his bike, if put in the situation where he saw one of his fellow officers commit a crime, speak out and make an arrest of his fellow officer? History has taught us that he would not.
Where the general public see’s a badge, a blue uniform and give’s their respect, I see a human being that is capable of both good and bad deeds, and should be treated as such just as any citizen would be treated.

A question we might ask: How is it that the DA has not filed one criminal case against the police and yet the juries in civil court have awarded million of dollars to victims of police abuse.

Mitchell R. Morrissey was elected District Attorney of Denver in November 2004 and was sworn into office on January 11, 2005. He is responsible for the prosecution of more than 6,000 felony and 18,000 misdemeanor criminal cases every year.

Walmart Black Friday Strike Protests

Posted on November 24, 2012 by Eric Verlo

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS- Walmart Express, 3636 N. Broadway, Lakeview

Everything’s up to date in Kansas City

Posted on July 28, 2012 by Eric Verlo

Yep– They’ve gone about as far as they can go. Broadway’s otherwise obsolete lyrics about civilization’s western edge might be true again! Kansas City will now have 1-Gig/second internet access. One hundred times faster than yours. It’s a new project of Google’s, called Google Fiber, to set a new benchmark for ISPs. Your local cable monopoly has no incentive to offer you that level of service, except now it’s going to be hard to pretend they can’t, or pretend they need to cap your current use.

Did Google pick Kansas City because the ad campaign had a ready made ditty? “Everything’s up to date in Kansas City” works. Set in turn-of-the-last-century, the musical Oklahoma was abuzz about gas buggies going by their-selves, telephones, indoor outhouses and skyscrapers seven stories high, “about as high as a building ought to grow.” By the third verse, the technical fascination with modernity becomes distracted by the promiscuous, the visitor from Kansas City having seen a strip show, internet-like.

I got to Kansas City on a Frid’y
By Sattidy I larned a thing or two
‘Coz up to then I didn’t have an idy
Of whut the modren world was comin’ to!
…
Ev’rythin’s like a dream in Kansas City,
It’s better than a magic lantern show!
…
They got a big theayter they call a burleeque.
Fer fifty cents you c’n see a dandy show.

———
For the curious, here are the full lyrics to Oklahoma’s “Kansas City”

Will:
I got to Kansas City on a Frid’y
By Sattidy I larned a thing or two
‘Coz up to then I didn’t have an idy
Of whut the modren world was comin’ to!
I counted twenty gas buggies goin’ by theirsel’s
Almost ev’ry time I tuk a walk.
‘Nen I put my ear to a Bell Telephone
And a strange womern started in to talk!

Man 1: To you?

Man 2: Whut next!

Men: Yeah whut!

Will: Whut next? Gather ’round!

Ev’rythin’s up to date in Kansas City
They’ve gone about as fur as they c’n go!
They went and built a skyscraper seven stories high,
About as high as a buildin’ orta grow.
Ev’rythin’s like a dream in Kansas City,
It’s better than a magic lantern show!
Y’ c’n turn the radiator on
Whenever you want some heat.
With ev’ry kind o’ comfort
Ev’ry house is all complete.
You c’n walk to privies in the rain
And never wet your feet!
They’ve gone about as fur as they c’n go,

Men: Yes sir!
They’ve gone about as fur as they c’n go!

Will:
Ev’rythin’s up to date in Kansas City
They’ve gone about as fur as they c’n go!
They got a big theayter they call a burleeque.
Fer fifty cents you c’n see a dandy show.

Man 1: Gals?

Will:
One of the gals was fat and pink and pretty,
As round above as she was round below.
I could swear that she was padded
From her shoulder to her heel,
But latter in the second act
When she began to peel
She proved that ev’rythin’ she had was absolutely real!
She went about as fur as she could go,

Men: Yes sir!
She went about as fur as she could go!

Here’s to the ladies who lunch – everybody laugh

Posted on April 28, 2012 by Eric Verlo

“Ladies Who Lunch” used to mean the idle spouses of financially successful husbands, as one New Yorker cartoonist fondly dubbed them, his Grand Dames, until Broadway in the mid-seventies where Stephen Sondheim subverted the idiom for Elaine Stritch’s COMPANY showstopper which exploded the pretense of the ladies’ self-serving philanthropy. Forty years on, out in the provinces, the expression adorns a Colorado Springs radio show on what is an otherwise erudite classical music station, at lunchtime, for ladies. Cultural illiterates too, probably. Imagine thinking that Titanic means big like Titan, absent the hubris. My neighbors could happily move back to the farm after they’d seen Paree, wondering what idiot decreed “you can’t go home again.”

Here are the lyrics since you missed them.

Here’s to the ladies who lunch
By Stephen Sondheim

Here’s to the ladies who lunch–
Everybody laugh.
Lounging in their caftans
And planning a brunch
On their own behalf.
Off to the gym,
Then to a fitting,
Claiming they’re fat.
And looking grim,
‘Cause they’ve been sitting
Choosing a hat.
Does anyone still wear a hat?
I’ll drink to that.

And here’s to the girls who play smart–
Aren’t they a gas?
Rushing to their classes
In optical art,
Wishing it would pass.
Another long exhausting day,
Another thousand dollars,
A matinee, a Pinter play,
Perhaps a piece of Mahler’s.
I’ll drink to that.
And one for Mahler!

And here’s to the girls who play wife–
Aren’t they too much?
Keeping house but clutching
A copy of LIFE,
Just to keep in touch.
The ones who follow the rules,
And meet themselves at the schools,
Too busy to know that they’re fools.
Aren’t they a gem?
I’ll drink to them!
Let’s all drink to them!

And here’s to the girls who just watch–
Aren’t they the best?
When they get depressed,
It’s a bottle of Scotch,
Plus a little jest.
Another chance to disapprove,
Another brilliant zinger,
Another reason not to move,
Another vodka stinger.
Aaaahhhhhh!
I’ll drink to that.

So here’s to the girls on the go–
Everybody tries.
Look into their eyes,
And you’ll see what they know:
Everybody dies.
A toast to that invincible bunch,
The dinosaurs surviving the crunch.
Let’s hear it for the ladies who lunch–
Everybody rise!
Rise!

Cost to Occupy Denver: Honking: $50, Illegal stop to donate: $200, Knowing how much we scare them: priceless.

Posted on November 30, 2011 by Eric Verlo

OCCUPIED DENVER- DKNY Know-Nothings have labelled them “BOBs,” but the “Bums On Broadway” occupiers are planning actions with reach well beyond the capitol, mobilizing en mass this Saturday to defend their occupation from a supposed Tea Party assault.

Denver Daze

Posted on October 31, 2011 by Steve Bass

Occupy Colorado Springs is and has been a relatively staid affair. Our biggest marches have drawn maybe 200 participants, and the street corner has been generally host to small crowds and mostly friendly or indifferent passers by. Visits from police have been just that–visits, rather than assaults, even when the HOTT Team came to arrest me early in the morning on 18 October, and the intrepid Camping Jack on two more recent occasions. We had to take steps to force them to make my arrest. Many of the core participants at Acacia Park have never been involved in any sort of political processes at all, let alone public protestations. So when several of our number traveled to Denver last Saturday to join a boisterous crowd of around 3,000 souls emotions were high, mixed, and complex.

There can be no denying the nervous air among one van load during the trip to Civic Center Park, directly in front of the State Capitol building, on the western side. Shana expressed open fear, bless her heart, and i suspect she wasn’t the only of our number of like mind. Fear was generally dispelled by the excitement of the much larger Denver crowd, though, and as we marched around downtown under clear blue unseasonably warm Colorado skies, past the Mint, the Federal Reserve Building, down the 16th St. Mall where city employees took an unscheduled break to let us pass and bewildered shoppers either stared aghast or waved and grinned in support, up 17th St. past all the towering bank centers, and finally mounting the steps at the Capitol Building in defiance of specific instruction from city and police. Throughout the march, spirits were exuberant as cooperative bullhorn operators traded various, sometimes conflicting perspectives while our horde danced and prated along the sidewalks and streets, and we arrived at the Capitol in high, expectant spirits.

There had been quite a lot of friendly cops along for the march, but shortly after our arrival at the Capitol the armored legion showed up and began tactical operations to expel the somewhat rowdy crowd from its perch. I was there with my 15 year old son, so we pulled back from the danger zone when the announcement was made waving off the “unarrestable.” Adin and i observed the obscure scuffling, complete with clouds of gas, from the Park as we waited for the valiant crew of absurdly comical drag queens “manning” the field kitchen to finish the “pimp-ass risotto” we later had for lunch, flavored by tear gas. The cops cleared the Capitol steps and formed a double-lined phalanx at the eastern face of the Park, at the street edge of the sidewalk directly across from the kitchen and the hastily erected camps. The kitchen crew struggled to put a specifically verboten makeshift canopy over their operation, so the police could be sure and find them.

The police blocked Broadway for several blocks and pushed protesters off the street into the Park and stayed in a threatening stance for some 6 hours or so, waiting for the appointed hour of 7:00p when they razed the camps, apparently according to specific orders. The clearing of the street was punctuated by violence , at least some of which was beyond the pale. Photographer and protest participant Andrew Cleres was ruthlessly shot down from his tree-stand while obviously not a threat. Frankie Roper of our OCS group was transported to a local hospital after taking a “non-lethal” round to the chest, though he was not arrested and refused treatment so he could rush back to the proceedings. Cops pulled back to the street after their initial assault and held a line for several hours while listening to protesters preaching various words ranging between, “We love you; you are US,” to “Fuck off and die, Pigs!” while awaiting word to move on the camps, which they did at the appointed hour, throwing tents, food, and kitchen equipment into a city trash truck.

The police surrounded the empty camping areas afterward, and maintained their line at the street for some time, continuing to endure some very angry expressions by riled protesters. Around 8:00p they abruptly and rather anticlimactically just left, allowing protesters to claim a victory, of sorts.

Though my observations to follow may well clash somewhat with some attitudes expressed during much subsequent conversation, much of what i witnessed at as close a range as could be was very encouraging indeed. Protesters were extraordinarily courageous in the face of a volatile situation. At odds with some other observers, i suggest cops exercised pretty fair restraint. Frankie and Andrew were both rather overworked in the incidents linked above. Frankie’s foot had been rolled over by the motorcycle he then knocked to the ground when the cops jumped him, and police had no way to know that when they got him. He was not arrested. Throughout the day, during which there were only 20 arrests reported, i witnessed numerous instances of very angry protesters attempting to engage police violently. These incidents were mostly handled by the crowd by their moving in to separate the overwrought form the line of cops, and the few moments where things escalated to actual physical levels were marked by a lack of brutality by police, and an apparently strong reluctance to arrest anyone. And again, after executing announced plans to raze the camps the cops simply left the scene.

Among the most exceptionally poignant vignettes of the day was the scene at the kitchen between the clearing of the Capitol steps and its ultimate destruction. The queer high antics persisted in good humor through the entirety of the very tense day, and the line of grateful hungry continued steadily within shoulder-brushing distance of the armored squads; life, joy, and loving community on display under duress. Many protesters repeated the suggestion to police that they are fully welcome to lay down armor and join us for a sandwich and a bowl of soup, and some cops actually did so, braving the incredulous stares of their fellows before rejoining the line. All day, though more so during the march while still in a conversational mood, police expressed support for us protesters, and reluctance to be antagonistic on their own. When they returned at the close of Park hours in much smaller numbers to match the dwindling of our own, remaining protesters knew to clear to the sidewalk and no further incidents took place. By then, new supplies had been delivered by random donors, and a new kitchen was already turning out coffee and chili dogs from an adjusted position at the park’s edge.

There remains aroused spirits from many of the variously positioned players in this conflict of Ideas. Many U.S. armed forces veterans are very angry indeed at police seen as traitorous after the incident with Scott Olsen in Oakland, (don’t forget to continue to hold Scott in your prayers, if you do that sort of thing); however I, for one, am encouraged by the dramatic differences between what i saw in Denver Saturday and the stuff from my childhood where police would just wade through crowds swinging nightsticks with brutal efficiency at whomever was within range. Further encouragement came from the shift in mood the following day when much of the tension between holders of opposing opinion among our OCS core appeared to simply diffuse on its own in the face of the sheer size and intensity of the action in D-town.

My take: I am immensely proud of all the Occupiers that participated, (including perhaps most especially my son Adin, who chose to stay right up in the thick of things with us all day long), and steadfastly protected those of our own motivated beyond restraint from overstepping propriety. We are ALL one. The human race makes up a group of 100%, even if some of us need to catch up with the notion. We have a long way to go, but we’re learning. This thing will continue to be lumpy and chaotic, but we’re getting there. Because we have to, no matter what.

MIND THE GAP, chides Occupy Denver

Posted on October 23, 2011 by Eric Verlo

DENVER- Concert, 1000-strong march, and the customary Broadway sidewalk shenanigans. Here’s a paint-tub drummer, PVC didjeridoo and my vote for best sign: MIND THE GAP. Saturday’s musical festivities in Civic Center Park meshed well with the annual Zombie Crawl, but the day’s highlight came after dark, when Denver’s anarchist community held a march against police brutality in memory of DPD victim Marvin Booker. The unpermitted route began at Denver Zoo and defined “Whose streets? OUR STREETS!” as it took 23rd, York, Colfax, Broadway, around OCCUPY DENVER’s CC park and into the 16th Street Mall where nocturnal Zombies swelled the ranks and found themselves chanting and carrying the banners STOP POLICE TERRORISM and LAW ENFORCEMENT: END YOUR WAR AGAINST THE PEOPLE.

It Was Always, Always You

Posted on September 5, 2011 by Eric Verlo

Sheet music cover to Bob Merrill's IT WAS ALWAYS YOU from Carnival My maternal grandparents had a favorite song, their song, Irving Berlin’s sentimental Always. With “always” capping every line and recurring as a chorus echo, the verbal chime quickly packed a saccharine wallop if it wasn’t you celebrating your 50th or 60th anniversary. I’ve chanced upon another lyric of the stage era that may have Berlin beat by ardor and iteration: Bob Merrill’s “It Was Always You” (also known as “Always Always You”) from the 1961 musical Carnival.
I could find scant trace online, so I’ll transcribe the song here. Weighed by syllable, it’s 25% alwayses:

It was always, always you,
Always, always you.
Though my eyes may wander
To and fro and yonder,
Still my heart’s affection
Always beats in your direction.

Every beat for you, My Sweet,
All the love my beating heart can brew.
It shocks me so, you didn’t know
That it was always you.
Always, always, always,
Always, always you.

Her reprise:

It was always, always you,
Always, always you.
You would cheat your mother,
In your heart a thief, Dear.
Still I want no other
Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief, Dear.

Life is strange, a man can change,
Though years could find me basking in the sun.
But all the same, I’ll dress for rain…
(melody carries line unspoken)
Always, always, always,
Always, always you.

Though CARNIVAL may have sunk into obscurity, its theme song became the pop standard “Love Makes the World Go ‘Round” –not such a surprise if you consider that Merrill also penned “How Much is That Doggy in the Window.”

You’d also recognize “[Everywhere I Look I Can See] Her Face” now a lounge classic. In performance, this is where the bitter puppeteer Paul realizes he loves the orphan Lili. This number was also reprised in duet where angst is given foil with Lili’s “I Hate Him” sung in obbligato.

If I’m giving CARNIVAL its due now, there’s an entire ode I’d like to write about the spot-on “A Very Nice Man” where Lili’s unguarded extemporaneous praise of the traveling bric-a-brac shop cannot conceal its shabbiness. Sample lyric:

What a very nice pitcher, though the handle is off,
But who says that a pitcher needs a handle?

And so I’m compelled to accord CARNIVAL its proper context, therefore I have to confess that ALWAYS ALWAYS belongs to the secondary romantic plot, between Marco the philandering magician and his forgiving assistant Rose, the semi-comic relief to the show’s center ring. CARNIVAL reconciled its main characters’ darker problems, which would probably not confound today’s Codependent No More audiences.

With audiences wised-up, and CARNIVAL’s stage melodies like “She’s My Love” fading to obscurity, it feels like Paul’s nearly lost love, a fiction except in our hearts, slips through his fingers minus the happy/unhappy ever after, when the curtain comes down forever.

She is soft, she is fair, she’s my love.
She is song, she is prayer, she’s my love.
Though I reach, though I try, she is braver than I
And is far less of earth than she is of sky.

She is moon to my night, she’s my love.
She is sight, sound and light, she’s my love.
Still the one heart I own hungers lost and alone
For My Love’s never known she’s my love.

Still the one heart I own hungers lost and alone
For My Love’s never known she’s my love.

Love is the Reason, with grammatical advice, from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Posted on August 30, 2011 by Eric Verlo

I once saw a British TV spot for Hamlet Cigars which featured an oddball posing in a photo booth, but so endearingly. For years on, when asked to smile, I affected his toothy grimace, thinking my rendition channeled but transcended his comically unbecoming turn. I channeled nothing of it, each time, I can confirm.

Now I’ve traced my abuse of adverbs, not to this song, but to the spirit in which Broadway lyricist Dorothy Fields used THREE to frame the verses of Love is the Reason from the musical version of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. In this song showstopping comic Shirley Booth advises her younger sister on love, ornamenting her insight with the authority-robbing qualifiers, meant to be irrelevant. Aspire as I might to stop, HANDILY I am my parody.

Love is the Reason
Each line is echoed by the chorus
(Parentheses indicate where reply varies)

Spoken: Suppose your mother never stood in a dark vestibule with your father, they might never have had to get married. Why do you suppose they did it? It was love.

Love is the reason you was born,
Love was the gleam in Papa’s eye.
People suddenly meet, People suddenly fit,
People suddenly hit, And brother, that’s it!

PERSONALLY Love is a kick right in the pants,
Love is the aspirin you buy.
If you’re flappin’ your fins, If you’re climbin’ a wall,
There must be a reason for it all. (What is the reason for it?)
Love is the reason for it all!

Love is a night you can’t recall,
Love is that extra drink you drank.
Love’s a shot in the arm, Love’s a poke in the ribs,
Buyin’ bottles and bibs, And fillin’ up cribs.

OBVIOUSLY Love is an old established trap,
Ten million suckers walk the plank.
If you land on your tail, Ev’ry time that you fall,
There must be a reason for it all. (Who needs a reason for it?)
Love is the reason for it all!

Love is a toothache in your heart,
Love is a gentlemanly pinch.
Love is stubbin’ your toe, Mashed potatoes with lumps,
Wearin’ very tight pumps, Or catchin’ the mumps.

GENERALLY Love is a blow below the belt,
Love is a holdin’ in a clinch.
If you shut your big mouth When his relatives call,
There must be a reason for it all. (Who needs a reason for it?)
Always the teasin’ in the hall; (Hallways are lovely for a call;)
Call it the season, I say, love is the reason for it all.

Li’l Abner on the debt ceiling panic

Posted on August 1, 2011 by Eric Verlo

Patterned after GM president Charlie Wilson, who said: what's good for General Motors is good for America When the satiric cartoon Li’l Abner was made a musical on Broadway, robber baron General Bullmoose sang Bring back the good old days, lamenting the regulation of capitalism, pondering:
“How can you break the market?
How?
The SEC will not allow
…one little panic.”
Today with graft unregulated and un-policed, the American public is made to panic for every swindle, to extort from them bank bailouts, tax breaks for the rich, and now cuts to “entitlements” such as poverty class pensions and medical care.

The Li’l Abner strip may not have had the legacy of Pogo, or longevity of Gasoline Alley, but it was the Doonesbury of the 30s and up to the 70s. In the introduction to From Dogpatch to Slobbovia, a little compendium of Abner scenarios, cartoonist Al Capp said this about his artistic intentions:

“to create suspicion of, and disrespect for, the perfection of all established institutions. That’s what I think education is. Anybody who gets out of college having had his confidence in the perfection of existing institutions affirmed has not been educated. Just suffocated.”

Avid fans included Queen Elizabeth, Charlie Chaplin and John Steinbeck who wrote:

Capp is probably the greatest contemporary writer and my suggestion is that if the Nobel Prize committee is at all alert, they should seriously consider him.”

As a side note, the Broadway cast of Li’l Abner included the character Stupefyin’ Jones, played by Julie Newmar aka Catwoman, and Appassionata Von Climax, played by Tina Louise, Ginger of Gilligan’s Island –if you always wondered how the character Ginger could not have failed to be a real “movie star.” Tina Louise began her career on Broadway in the 50s and was age thirty-something when the TV series aired. Imagine green-lighting an actress of that age today to play a sex symbol, yet Louise became as yet TV’s most enduring sex symbol.

For people who hate opera

Posted on April 22, 2011 by Eric Verlo

I LOVE LUCY featuring THE MOST HAPPY FELLA
The trouble with introductory collections like “Opera for People Who Hate Opera” is of course that it’s still OPERA. I’m inclined to believe the gateway acquired-taste for American pop music ears is –why not– American Musical Theater. But before I get to the particular show I have in mind THE MOST HAPPY FELLA, for a teaser, get thee to Tevye’s dream of Fiddler On The Roof. Find the original Broadway stage recording (These girls found it: The Dream) where Zero Mostel pretends to be visited by two ghosts, blending three melodies –with dances– to a whirlwind intensity. Discordant, shrill, phenomenal, pure opera.

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF: THE DREAM
Really, you cannot but love the energy and drama of that piece. And it meets the lower brow halfway: it’s in English, mostly, it’s sung in the registers to which we are more accustomed today, and the cacophony is corralled at a driving dervish pace, also most contemporary.

A Broadway convention of the golden age of musicals was the Dream Ballet scene. In Fiddler it was an opera and a ballet, but instead of a dream or a character’s hallucination, this was Tevye’s pretense of a nightmare, conjured to convince his wife to assent to let their oldest daughter marry the boy she loved, instead of the old man to whom she was promised.

The Dream features three motifs: Grandma Tzeitel represented by the Mazel Tov refrain, with the rejoinder of Tevye and his wife Golde, overtaken by the crescendo of the butcher’s deceased wife Fruma-Sarah, clearly borrowing the menace of the Wicked Witch of Oz.

That’s it — you can like opera! Don’t think yourself less sophisticated because lyrics in a foreign language bore you, or because sopranos or tenors strain your ears. You probably wouldn’t favor centuries-ago gruel either.

THE MOST HAPPY FELLA
Just as maturing musical taste builds inevitably toward Jazz, I have a theory that Broadway fans eventually seek for melodies a little less pat. After not so long, the tunes you can easily whistle up the aisle begin to sound the same. Fresh ones don’t solve anything. Trust me, the unsung Broadway shows which didn’t recoup their production costs don’t sound any better now. Great as were all the Rogers & Hammerstein hits, you have heard only half their shows and yet you’ve heard them all. Ironically, R&H tried their hand at an opera-like show, called ALLEGRO, I don’t favor it, and neither did anyone else.

What I do know is that I love THE MOST HAPPY FELLA, a comparatively obscure musical which had the misfortune of opening in the shadow of MY FAIR LADY, you remember that one in your sleep. TMHF is the acknowledged masterpiece of Frank Loesser, who had no need to prove himself after composing GUYS AND DOLLS. Great as it is, how many times can you listen to Luck Be a Lady?

Being labeled an opera has meant ruin for Broadway musicals which stray from the basic musical review format. Musical Theater traditionally meant catchy tunes strung together with comedy. Wartime brought OKLAHOMA and CAROUSEL which introduced more complicated drama, but librettos entirely sung, weaving the collected songs together, didn’t catch on until the pop operas of the seventies, commercial formulas like PHANTOM OF THE– that were neither operatic, nor terribly musical either.

Out-and-out American operas such as PORGY AND BESS have always lost money in production. Like the argument I make here, to entice American audiences, you have to pretend opera is not opera. Even liner notes written today about 1956’s THE MOST HAPPY FELLA have to avoid coming down one way or another on whether it’s an opera. Yes much of the dialog is sung, but critics reassure us that parts are spoken too. There are numbers too popular to be highbrow, you know one of them, Standing on the Corner [Watching All the Girls Go By].

A 1957 episode of I LOVE LUCY featured a visit to a Broadway performance, in probably an early example of the entertainment industry giving itself a lift. Lucy and company are shown watching from a box seat, but we hear only the more palatable popular ballads Don’t Cry and the Texas dance number Big “D”.

To settle the opera matter, I look at a couple obvious giveaways. One, the leading character Tony was sung by the opera star Robert Weebe, a colleague of Maria Callas. And two, the matinee show traditional of Broadway, was sung by Weebe’s understudy, because two shows a day is neither traditional nor possible for opera.

There’s also the comfortable coincidence that the plot centers around an Italian immigrant, thus much of the dialog is Italian-accented. And he runs a farm in Napa Valley manned by other Italians, who sing in outright Italian, the lingua franca of opera. So the Happy Fella Broadway disguise was never very earnest.

What marks Happy Fella most distinctly are the depth and height of emotional expression. Plenty of musicals have plumbed despair, but in contrast I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a happier fella than Tony Esposito. Witness tenors trumpet Abbondanza! (Abundance), then Benvenuta! (Welcome), and then Spozalizio! (Wedding), which are actually in English, punctuated with self-translatable Italian. Another high-spirited refrain is about “Coming Home” with the proceeds of the strawberry harvest, titled Fresno Beauties.

And then where honestly have you heard a love song more overwhelmed with feeling than My Heart is So Full of You? It begins with exclamation, answers as duet, then envelopes the inner reflections of two peripheral characters.

There’s also the deliriously contented duet which begins “Lunedi, Martedi” (How Beautiful the Days).

The peerless Soliloquy from Carousel gets a run for its money in Mamma, Mamma [Up in Heav’n, How you lika my sweet girl?], as near an operatic aria as you can get.

And while I’m inventorying the happy overload, I don’t want to leave out the beautiful Somebody, Somewhere and Warm all over. The charmer Happy to Make Your Acquaintance is also a standard Broadway showstopper with reprise.

While I’m digressing, I’d like to credit the Big “D” number, where two Texans supposedly recognize each other by their drawl, while neither in actuality has a drawl. The drawl is sung, the notes slurred to create a most beguiling familiarity. It’s a duet to prick your ears at just the phrasing, my own introduction to the incomparable Susan Johnson.

If I’ve touched on any clarity here, it’s what you already know: The amplified modulation of opera is not about librettos all sung, or voices in full shriek. Singing out expresses emotional intensity, and in Happy Fella you’ll never meet happier.

Can you manage a World Car-Free Day?

Posted on September 22, 2010 by Eric Verlo

The publishers of Car Busters have proclaimed every September 22 to be WORLD CAR-FREE DAY. Consider taking the bus, riding a bike or walking to work today. Where possible, the World Carfree Network suggests you walk in the middle of the street where the automobile-dependent will get the point. It’s not your fault the MSM hasn’t told everyone we have a chance today to rethink the sustainability of how to get around.

Apropos to how to get people out of their cars, Vancouver scholar Patrick Condon has released a text about Design Strategies for a Post Carbon World, titled Seven Rules for Sustainable Communities, published by the University of British Columbia Press. The table of contents offers talking points enough:

SEVEN RULES FOR SUSTAINABLE, LOW-CARBON COMMUNITIES

1. Restore the Streetcar City
The Streetcar City as a Unifying Principle
Urban Form and the Pattern of Walkin and Riding
Continuous Linear Corridors, Not Stand-alone Nodes
Buses, Streetcars, Light Rail Transit, and Subways
Streetcar as an Urban Investment
Cars, Buses, Streetcar, or Heavy Rail?
Case Study of the Broadway Corridor in Vancouver
What Is the Optimal Transit System?

2. Design an Interconnected Street System
Challenges of the Denritic Street System
Four Types of Interconnected Street Systems
Ideal Block and Parcel Size
Road Width, Fire Access, Queuing Streets
The Corner, Lanes and Alleys
Greenhouse Gas and Street Pattern

3. Locate Commercial Services, Frequent Transit, and Schools within a Five-minute Walk
Sense of Place in Corridors
Transit, Density, and the Five-minute Walk
Designing for the Bus or Streetcar
The Walk to School

4. Locate Good Jobs Close to Affordable Homes
The Historic Relationship between Work and Home
Metropolitan and Community Scale

5. Provide a Diversity of Housing Types
The Influence of Building Type on GHG Production
The Sustainable Single-family Home
Build and Adapt Neighborhoods for all Ages and Incomes
Buildings with a Friendly Face to the Street

6. Create a Linked System of Natural Areas and Parks
Fredrick Law Olmsted and Linked Natural Areas and Parks
Ian McHarg and the Greenway Revival
Case Study at the Regional Scale:
The Damascus Design Workshop
Case Study at the Neighborhood Scale: Sustainable Fairview
and the Pringle Creek Community, Salem, Oregon

7. Invest in Lighter, Greener, Cheaper, Smarter Infrastructure
Watershed Function
Four Rules for Infiltration
Green Infrastructure for Parcels
Impervious Paved Infiltration Streets

Composer Jason Robert Brown wants to protect his unintellectual rights

Posted on July 5, 2010 by Eric Verlo

As a musician and fan of stage musicals, I must proffer this disclaimer about American theater composer Jason Robert Brown: he’s terrible. Brown is a poster child for the music industry’s common mediocrity, of commerce’s habitual triumph over art. Now Brown has appointed himself defender of intellectual property rights, holding that teens should not use the internet to pirate his sheet music. Of course, I can only wish him foolproof success.

American musical theater saw a golden age in the 1940s, with notable glimmers of resurgence since then, in ever infrequent cycles. I don’t think anyone would argue that in-between was constant dreck –to which “show tunes” owe their stigma. Defenders of Andrew Lloyd Webber will find themselves similarly unrestrained enthusiasts for popular music, popular fiction and television. To each his own slop.

I have particular antipathy for contemporary composers of awfulness because they drive the inartistic music publishing industry where it does irreparable harm. School bands and theater departments are influenced to pay royalties for the performance pieces whose rights are most profitably leveraged, at the expense of older works of renown. Instead of seeding young repertoires with melodies and lyrics to enrich their memories, teachers pollute their students with forgettable claptrap, courtesy of bards like Brown.

I have the same prejudice with regard to literature. Why aren’t today’s students reading Stevenson or Poe instead of Blume or Rowling? Of course, composer JR Brown is more on par with author RL Stine, he’s that horrible. But don’t take my word for it, have a listen.

That said, here’s Jason Robert Brown championing not just the exclusive right to sell online what his publishers hawk through their network of scholastic pushers, but he wants the same markup. If ever a commodity could change hands for its true worth, Brown’s entire catalog should be ventilated for free through file sharing. Instead he’s personally joining various trading websites and then emailing each and every member who appears to be trading in his goods.

To paraphrase: Hello, I’m Jason Robert Brown, yes, The Jason Robert Brown, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped illegally sharing my music, since it deprives me of my rightful royalties.

Brown has posted some of the ensuing email exchanges on his blog, without any mention of offering remuneration for their contributions. Most laughable, but consistent with the weakness of his music work, Brown has engaged chiefly teens in his discussion of intellectual rights. He lists one discussion in which he compares his stolen sheet music to a loaned screwdriver, a Xerox’d book, and a copied CD.

Mr. Brown, might I direct you to the innumerable organizations which argue that intellectual property rights are not inalienable. They are restraints to trade, impediments to idea sharing, and diametric to elevating community wealth.

You have every right to contrive a product and sell it by whatever connivance, but your monopoly ends there. Whoever were your customers should have the right to do with their purchases what they will. What right have you to tax the use of your thought fart as it passes from ear to ear? Home Depot can’t charge multiple times for a screwdriver it’s already sold; to use your example.

Consider also that your melody was plucked from the ether of shared cultural experience. Should a rights police attach royalty liens on every whiff of inspiration you borrowed? Better to admit we are all channels of a community expression.

Mr. Brown, please be satisfied to exploit the business advantages you’ve built. Your Tony Award is indication enough of that accomplishment. Insisting that you deserve more only invites scrutiny of your ouevre. Your arguments may find refuge with fans of the “Twilight” caliber, but I am not about to underestimate the sophistication of your own musical taste. If you love Broadway, you know the incredible deficiency of the songs you are peddling. Describing your “music sensibility [which] fuses pop-rock stylings with theatrical lyrics” is faint self-praise enough.

Young stage enthusiasts. To you, JRB may appear a “genius” but what else would we expect of a generation raised on High School Musical. For superior fare, check out the pre maudlin days of Broadway, the shows which see regular revivals. If you want something further afield, look to lesser known works by those same composers. Even their obscure productions eclipse the best efforts of hacks today. Much of this material is freely available, but you’ll find that real showstoppers will have you showing no reluctance to part with your lunch money.

Jason Robert Brown, please stop your indecorous whine about the new leak in your traditional income monopoly. Leave your fans to trade them for their real worth.

Americans upset by viral Single Ladies video don’t know their ass from TandA

Posted on May 17, 2010 by Eric Verlo

You thought ours was an oversexed culture obsessed with youth, but the recent furor over a viral video shows Americans don’t know their ass from their T & A.

Obviously everyone is aghast about too-young dancers gyrating to Beyonce’s SINGLE LADIES, but I think it says something hilarious about our ineptitude with sexuality. Like the mess of clueless philistines weighing in, I too am inexpert at what titillates about 7-year-olds, and it’s not going to stop me either.

Can we agree the Beyonce hit is lewd? I’m guessing her video was unremarkable, I recall the SNL spoof was camp, but what are Beyonce’s lyrics except deliberately crass? You expect a performance of “Single Ladies” to transcend its theme? You’re going to be offended regardless who is lip-syncing it.

Putting aside whether your daughter belongs onstage participating, where have you been? This is dance. Call it Vulgar Nouveaux or Burlesque Outré, it dates to Madonna’s mother’s virginity. This is dance, all you Kansans, onstage and on screen. Flashdance had nothing on Broadway, American Gigolo hid the sex behind clothes. Beside the point. Young dancers aspiring to tomorrow’s auditions want to learn what their role models are teaching. Children today love Spongebob, but they’re watching South Park and Family Guy too. The only uncomfortable party in the room is you.

I recently attended an elementary school talent show that included some dance-schooled troopers. Some of their precocious moves were admittedly out of place and some even off-putting, but it didn’t stop parents from appreciating the talent and obvious dedicated effort. Our little tarts didn’t come close, by the way, to the spirited Single Ladies performance, clearly well choreographed, taught, and executed.

Was outraged America also so unsophisticated to notice that the now infamous video was a multiple camera production? This wasn’t a family recording leaked by an indignant relative. It was a World of Dance competition where no one watching showed any shock at the performance. While I confess I’m still offended by the Jon-Benet pageant aesthetic, these costumes and the next Britney backup dancers did not surprise.

What entertained me most were the comments threading from the now multiple postings of the video. The original post accumulated over two million views and had to be removed for reasons that are self-explanatory apparently. On account of poorly-spelled death threats, I imagine. Eventually you’ll find observations defending the performance, but for the overwhelming part, everyone wants to weigh their indignation against the next, accuse the dancers’ parents of child abuse and round up a posse to chase the pedophiles they’re sure are lurking.

What I find endearing about their best Sunday earnestness is that these commenters wouldn’t know a stripper’s pole from where they get their haircut. Even as internet porn is so pervasive, and we worry it has saturated our psyche, it turns out the prurient pretenders– as hypocritical we know, as Republican congressmen– know as much about erotica as a prudes.

Even more entertaining is a certain tenor to their comments, part of a trend I’m horrified to recognize has been overtaking blogdom. It began I suppose when the personal computer extended the internet outside the lab. Emails used to abide a scientist’s protocol, then with the world-wide-web came spam. Blogs began with people who had something to say, and when comments deregulated to chat rooms, in came the freaks.

There’s a common tone to compulsive opinion-givers, I recognize it too often as I offer my own. It pervades the blogosphere now almost to have rendered discussion threads unreadable. It’s a tone of tone-deafness, in vocabulary, grammar and attitude. Related to a person not knowing what they’re talking about, the tell-tale ingredient is that they don’t care about the subject either. It’s a characteristic recognized in forced conversations and poor sales pitches, not always obvious when we’re regurgitating differences of opinion or ideology.

If I didn’t always before recognize the ignorance in the insincerity, this Tea Party tinctured pile-on has given me the scent.

The too-cursory indignation Middle America is showing about these 7-year-old dancers strikes a feeble, unfunny note. It’s the puritanical call for women of all ages to reduce themselves behind burqas, coming from voices self-loathing and unworldly.

Mother Jones and the children of Ludlow

Posted on April 20, 2009 by NMT

APRIL 20 MARKS THE 95TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE LUDLOW MASSACRE.
From her 1925 autobiography, Mother Jones wrote about the UMWA strike in Ludlow Colorado, over the harsh winter of 1914.

From Chapter 21:

No one listened. No one cared. The tickers in the offices of 26 Broadway sounded louder than the sobs of women and children. Men in the steam heated luxury of Broadway offices could not feel the stinging cold of Colorado hill-sides where families lived in tents.

Then came Ludlow and the nation heard. Little children roasted alive make a front page story. Dying by inches of starvation and exposure does not.

On the 19th of April, 1914, machine guns, used on the strikers in the Paint Creek strike, were placed in position above the tent colony of Ludlow. Major Pat Hamrock and Lieutenant K. E. Linderfelt were in charge of the militia, the majority of whom were, company gun-men sworn in as soldiers.

Early in the morning soldiers approached the colony with a demand from headquarters that Louis Tikas, leader of the Greeks, surrender two Italians. Tikas demanded a warrant for their arrest. They had none. Tikas refused to surrender them. The soldiers returned to quarters. A signal bomb was fired. Then another. Immediately the machine guns began spraying the flimsy tent colony, the only home the wretched families of the miners had, riddling it with bullets. Like iron rain, bullets’ upon men, women and children.

The women and children fled to the hills. Others tarried. The men defended their home with their guns. All day long the firing continued. Men fell dead, their faces to the ground. Women dropped. The little Snyder boy was shot through the head, trying to save his kitten. A child carrying water to his dying mother was killed.

By five o’clock in the afternoon, the miners had no more food, nor water, nor ammunition. They had to retreat with their wives and little ones into the hills. Louis Tikas was riddled with shots while he tried to lead women and children to safety. They perished with him.

Night came. A raw wind blew down the canyons where men, women and children shivered and wept. Then a blaze lighted the sky. The soldiers, drunk with blood and with the liquor they had looted from the saloon, set fire to the tents of Ludlow with oil-soaked torches. The tents, all the poor furnishings, the clothes and bedding of the miners’ families burned. Coils of barbed wire were stuffed into the well, the miners’ only water supply.

After it was over, the wretched people crept back to bury their dead. In a dugout under a burned tent, the charred bodies of eleven little children and two women were found-unrecognizable. Everything lay in ruins. The wires of bed springs writhed on the ground as if they, too, had tried to flee the horror. Oil and fire and guns had robbed men and women and children of their homes and slaughtered tiny babies and defenseless women. Done by order of Lieutenant Linderfelt, a savage, brutal executor of the will of the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company. The strikers issued a general call to arms: Every able bodied man must shoulder a gun to protect himself and his family from assassins, from arson and plunder. From jungle days to our own so-named civilization, this is a man’s inherent right. To a man they armed, through-out the whole strike district. Ludlow went on burning in their hearts.

Everybody got busy. A delegation from Ludlow went to see President Wilson. Among them was Mrs. Petrucci whose three tiny babies were crisped to death in the black hole of Ludlow. She had something to say to her President.

Immediately he sent the United States cavalry to quell the gunmen. He studied the situation, and drew up proposals for a three-year truce, binding miner and operator. The operators scornfully refused.

A mass meeting was called in Denver. Lindsay spoke. He demanded that the operators be made to respect the laws of Colorado. That something be done immediately. The Denver Real Estate Exchange appointed a committee to spit on Judge Lindsey for his espousal of the cause of the miners.

Rockefeller got busy. Writers were hired to write pamphlets which were sent broadcast to every editor in the country, bulletins. In these leaflets, it was shown how perfectly happy was the life of the miner until the agitators came; how joyous he was with the company’s saloon,. the company’s pigstys for homes, the cornpany’s teachers and preachers and coroners. How the miners hated the state law of an eight-hour working day, begging to be allowed to work ten, twelve. How they hated the state law that they should have their own check weigh-man to see that they were not cheated at the tipple.

And all the while the mothers of the children who died in Ludlow were mourning their dead.

A Colorado coal mining family

The Obama Mission Impossible caper

Posted on November 6, 2008 by Eric Verlo

South Park this week lent its usual on-the-spot spot-on insight to the Obama victory. The South Park plot suggested Tuesday’s triumph was the result of McCain colluding with Obama to seize the White House, solely to access a presidential escape tunnel which runs under the Smithsonian, putting them within grasp of the HOPE Diamond (get it?). An Obama-McCain Oceans-08 Mission Impossible heist might be stretching it, particularly with Palin cast as the technical mastermind, but would it be entirely a fiction?

Did you hear McCain campaign director Steve Schmidt recently answering critics of his strategy? Schmidt described John McCain as “the only Republican who could have mounted a campaign that would come anywhere close.” Was that Schmidt’s directive? To come close? Was the nominee his to choose?

It’s been revealed that Schmidt himself chose Sarah Palin as the VP pick. A good choice? Not? It makes me wonder about the objective of the McCain bid. To put up a good show, or to be a contender? As unthinkable as Palin was as a potential national figure, her draw as center of attention was undeniable.

The McCain/Palin ticket sure looks to have been a setup. Was it but a straw-man against whom an African American couldn’t lose? Both McCain and Palin, in their own ways, seemed epically comic caricatures of awful. They played the bad-guy opponent for the majority of wrestling fans to cheer against. There are of course always legions of WWWF fans who back the bad ass. They follow the underdog’s career as the heavy, maybe hoping someday he’ll be picked for a stint of glory. Even if wrestling is fixed, you can hope to influence the fixing with your cheers.

Tuesday night also reminded me of watching the loser of the 2004 presidential election, dutifully giving his concession speech attended by his multi-millionaire wife. Remember the Heinz heiress who would be First Lady?

The Producers Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder knew where the money was made on Broadway, from widow pensioner investors with dreams of stage glory. Maybe political party apparatchiks know it too. You can defray a bunch of your expenses if you can draw the lonely heiresses into the ring. They’ve got the billions/millions, with the wardrobes to match. Where would they find comparable spotlights to highlight those baubles? Make them queen of the ball, with the chance to be First Lady Win or not, they’ll get their money’s worth of attention.

Does America have a two-party system, or a single corporate party? Well then, are the Republican and Democratic parties a single political machine or not? Ergo, wrestling match aside, do the match promoters care whether the democracy torch bearer is Red or Blue or black?

The much we already know must color the election result.

What did you make of the orchestration we saw in Grant Park? A celebration of historic proportion was laid out in Chicago. In Arizona, the GOP assembled their booing chorus of hangers on. En toto, Obama’s CHANGE movement was executed without a single hitch. The train came into the station like clockwork, like an MI08 final scene. Concession and acceptance speech delivered like a College Football game. No overtime please, climax within the prime time alloted.

Warnings about how “power never yields without demand” appeared to be so much crying wolf. So, did we witness a shift of power, or simply the inauguration of a more palatable figurehead? If there’s a Lion King remake to re-stage for Broadway, maybe Steve Schmidt should be tapped for the job.

Obama rally invites silent partners only

Posted on October 25, 2008 by Eric Verlo

DENVER- “Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama will speak at an 11:30 a.m. Sunday rally in Denver’s Civic Center park … Gates for Obama’s Denver rally open at 10 a.m. Members of the public should enter at the Greek Theater on West 14th Avenue Parkway between Bannock and Broadway … For security reasons, attendees are asked to not bring bags and to limit personal items. No signs or banners will be permitted.” Does it sound like they’re trying to set up an Obama-flocked-by-thousands St Louis/Berlin style backdrop? I think this scene begs for an ANTIWAR reminder. OBAMA: NO WAR ON IRAN/AFGHANISTAN/PAKISTAN/SUDAN

Will there be somewhere to position an antiwar message? A background spot along the perimeter of Obama’s intended backdrop? Will Obama be speaking from the Greek Theater or in reality from the capitol steps? It seems more likely that this “Civic Center Park” engagement is really going to comprise War Memorial Park, the state capitol and the legislature building, surrounded entirely by fence, with Bannock, Broadway and Lincoln blocked off. Where buildings don’t provide barriers, rows of large trees block visibility from across Colfax and 14th Avenues.

Will this be the size of the real nogo zone ???

A PEACE NOW message can be put forward to attendees streaming in at 14th/Bannock/Broadway obviously. But to try to project to Obama’s intended national audience looks to be a stage-managed shut out. I’ll be curious to see the anti-riot police muscle they’re going to bring to enforce Obama’s corporate brand of populism.

Unconventional Action takes to street

Posted on August 24, 2008 by Eric Verlo

DENVER- Let’s start with the second confrontation. DNC disruption-minded Unconventional Action held Broadway Ave beneath the Capitol building, prompting riot police to close in.

Unconventional Action to RECLAIM THE STREETS
3PM 16th Street Mall

Departing from permitted route
“To locations downtown, particularly near delegates’ hotels, where coordinated direct action and protests may take place after the End the Occupations march.”

First Confrontation:
Unconventional Action moved up from Civic Center Park, unto Lincoln Ave and stayed. Mounted police were the first responders.

Horses were used to advance against the crowd and split it.

Eventually Unconventional Action relinquished their position and moved over one block.

Second Confrontation
Back to Broadway Avenue. After riot troops formed their line, UA marchers stepped up against them.

This lead to some tense moments. Police commanders could be heard instructing each other “if anyone (unintelligible), shot them.” Just as abruptly, Unconventional Action broke off and marched North, beckoning all to follow. “Off the sidewalks, into the streets!” Few takers.

Riot police jumped on SUVs and gave chase.

To be continued…

R68 Festival of Democracy band line-up

Posted on July 30, 2008 by NMT

The R68 Festival of Democracy Music Schowcase fliers have hit the street. The 2-evening lineups includes Boulder bands BLACK SHEEP BRIGADE, DARIO ROSA, NIGHT KITCHEN and WHISKEY BLANKET.

Festival of Democracy MUSIC SHOWCASE
August 25
3pm SAVAGE FAMILY Illegally Occupied US
4pm DINIGUNIM San Diego
5pm DJ CAVEM/MOETAVATION Five Points
DJ ASAR HERU Brooklyn
KARMA Barbados
7pm WHISKEY BLANKET Boulder
8pm MIDSTATES MUSIC Chicago
9pm DARIO ROSA Boulder

August 26
3pm DEBAJO DEL AGUA Denver
4pm DKO-ELECTRIC HORNS Denver
5pm MELANIE SUSURAS BAND Denver
6pm REBEL DIAZ Bronx
7pm THE NIGHT KITCHEN Boulder
8pm FROM THE DEPTHS North Carolina
9pm BLACK SHEEP BRIGADE Boulder

With speakers and poets between acts.

CIVIC CENTER PARK, DOWNTOWN DENVER
Broadway/Bannock & Colfax/14th FREE!

Counterpoint duets in American musicals

Posted on December 28, 2007 by Eric Verlo

A now Christmas classic has breathed new life into Frank Loesser’s “Baby it’s cold outside / I really must go.” After burning out the household listening to all available recordings, I yearned for other counterpoint duets. Neither Broadway, nor the internet was very forthcoming, hence this post.

For a duet with a similar whimsical wolf vs. mouse dynamic, there’s “Small Talk” from Frank Loesser’s Pajama Game. (Preferred duo Doris Day and John Raitt).

“An old fashion wedding” from the 1966 revival of Irving Berlin’s Annie Get Your Gun. (Ethel Merman and Bruce Yarnell).

“I wonder why / You’re just in love” from Irving Berlin’s 1950 musical Call Me Madam. (Ethel Merman and Russel Nype or Donald O’Connor).

Irving Berlin’s earlier “Pack up your sins and go to the Devil” features syncopation on both parts.

There’s the “Will I Ever Tell You” counterpoint to “Lida Rose” in Meredith Wilson’s The Music Man. And the combo of “Goodnight my someone” with “Seventy-six trombones” (Shirley Jones and Robert Preston).

There’s the infamous “Tonight Quintet” from West Side Story. (Best remake: South Park).

The 1959 musical Little Mary Sunshine lampoons counterpoint with three parts: Playing Croquet, Swinging, and How Do You Do?

Stephen Soundheim repeated the feat in A Little Night Music with “Now,” “Later” and “Soon.”

Less romantic counterpoint could include “All for the best” from Godspell. Can you think of any other?

(The best pairing for “Baby it’s cold outside”? Physical performance: Esther Williams and Ricardo Montalban, best repartee: Margaret Whiting and Johnny Mercer, best contemporary match: Zooey Deschanel and Leon Redbone.)

A puppeteer

Posted on November 30, 2006 by Marie Walden

puppeteer I wanted to study dance in college. I wanted to perform on Broadway. I wanted to walk through campus, and life, with “jazz hands.”

As a freshman, I was at CU-Boulder, living the life of a lab rat as a Molecular/Cellular/Developmental Biology major. My older brother was a year ahead of me, also an MCDB major, brilliant beyond belief. He seemed to understand the “cell,” with all of its asinine complexity, at an intuitive level. He understood physics, chemistry, had memorized the Periodic Table and was even capable of making hilarious jokes about it. I, meanwhile, stumbled around campus humiliated by the forehead crease left by my lab goggles wondering what geek could help me figure out the molarity of my latest unknown.

I eventually changed my major to business, accounting more specifically. It wasn’t so much that I was wildly excited by debits and credits, I’m still not, or that most of the gorgeous fraternity boys were in the B School (they generally studied “finance,” accent always on the second syllable, and went on to be successful brokers or developers), but that I didn’t come from a particularly wealthy family and I needed a career, not just an education. Becoming a CPA seemed a safe bet. It has proven to be such.

Because of my college experience, and maybe my perceived lack of personal creative freedom, I always find it interesting to hear what young people are studying these days. I wonder how the parents feel, especially the fathers, when they hear that their young son is going to be, say, a puppeteer. Does this revelation cause Dad to puff out his chest and smoke a stogie on the back deck? Does Mom call over her coffee klatch girlfriends to boast about her son’s incredible prowess with a hand puppet?

When my son (now 21) was little he had a puppet as his constant companion. We got it at Poor Richard’s Toy Store and it was, sad to say, a beaver. Furry brown with lewd teeth and a hopeful demeanor. Bren wanted to take it everywhere. Unfortunately, after about five minutes, he wanted me to hold it. He was a very engaging child and, frequently, when he saw someone he found interesting he would shout, in a loud Mickey Mouse voice, “Look at my mom’s beaver!” This, of course, had an EFHutton effect. Everything would slow to a crawl, people would turn their heads deliberately toward me to see how I would respond.

I learned quickly to deal with this recurrent nightmare. I “worked up” a little beaver dance and performed it on the person nearest to me that appeared somewhat sympathetic. I would take “Beav” and bite the person’s forearm and say “Come help me build my dam!”

I don’t want to malign puppeteers. In fact, I want to laud puppeteers. In my immediate family, we have three CPAs, a pathologist, an attorney, a pharmaceutical drug rep. Our parents are proud of us. We all have careers and children, big houses and big mortgages, lots of demands for our money and our time. We’re living the American dream!

I can’t help but wonder, though, if any of my siblings ever feel like I do while I’m scurrying through the office clutching my mechanical pencil and my laptop, wearing the latest Ann Taylor fashions, picturing myself instead in fishnet hose and a bustier, standing under the bright theater lights, bowing demurely to thunderous applause. When my older brother holds his stethoscope does he secretly wish it were a paintbrush? When my sister makes her closing arguments in front of the judge and jury, would she rather be doing improvisational comedy in a little club somewhere? I don’t have any idea.

I know one thing. I hope my children will pursue their passions. It may be an uphill battle. Already their Dad and I have college funds set up for each of them. We have firm ideas about which elite schools they should attend and what careers might hold promise. I imagine we’ll have a doctor or two, maybe a physicist, probably a computer whiz. The IQ tests have been administered and we know where their strengths lie. But not where their dreams lie.

I have secret wish. I want a puppeteer.

Songs banned by Clear Channel radio stations

Posted on November 21, 2006 by NMT

As part of the project to mirror web resource material that the media would otherwise hope to bury, here is the list of music recordings which Clear Channel banned from the airwaves of its enormous network of radio stations. On the heels of 9/11, Clear Channel asserted these songs had “questionable content.”

Drowning Pool “Bodies”
Mudvayne “Death Blooms”
Megadeth “Dread and the Fugitive,” “Sweating Bullets”
Saliva “Click Click Boom”
P.O.D. “Boom”
Metallica “Seek and Destroy,” “Harvester or Sorrow,” “Enter Sandman,”
“Fade to Black”
All Rage Against The Machine songs
Nine Inch Nails “Head Like a Hole”
Godsmack “Bad Religion”
Tool “Intolerance”
Soundgarden “Blow Up the Outside World”
AC/DC “Shot Down in Flames,” “Shoot to Thrill,” “Dirty Deeds”
“Highway to Hell,” “Safe in New York City,” “TNT,” “Hell’s Bells”
Black Sabbath “War Pigs,” “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath,” “Suicide Solution”
Dio “Holy Diver”
Steve Miller “Jet Airliner”
Van Halen “Jump”
Queen “Another One Bites the Dust,” “Killer Queen”
Pat Benatar “Hit Me with Your Best Shot,” “Love is a Battlefield”
Oingo Boingo “Dead Man’s Party”
REM “It’s the End of the World as We Know It”
Talking Heads “Burning Down the House”
Judas Priest “Some Heads Are Gonna Roll”
Pink Floyd “Run Like Hell,” “Mother”
Savage Garden “Crash and Burn”
Dave Matthews Band “Crash Into Me”
Bangles “Walk Like an Egyptian”
Pretenders “My City Was Gone”
Alanis Morissette “Ironic”
Barenaked Ladies “Falling for the First Time”
Fuel “Bad Day”
John Parr “St. Elmo’s Fire”
Peter Gabriel “When You’re Falling”
Kansas “Dust in the Wind”
Led Zeppelin “Stairway to Heaven”
The Beatles “A Day in the Life,” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,”
“Ticket To Ride,” “Obla Di, Obla Da”
Bob Dylan/Guns N Roses “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”
Arthur Brown “Fire”
Blue Oyster Cult “Burnin’ For You”
Paul McCartney and Wings “Live and Let Die”
Jimmy Hendrix “Hey Joe”
Jackson Brown “Doctor My Eyes”
John Mellencamp “Crumbling Down.” “I’m On Fire”
U2 “Sunday Bloody Sunday”
Boston “Smokin”
Billy Joel “Only the Good Die Young”
Barry McGuire “Eve of Destruction”
Steam “Na Na Na Na Hey Hey”
Drifters “On Broadway”
Shelly Fabares “Johnny Angel”
Los Bravos “Black is Black”
Peter and Gordon “I Go To Pieces,” “A World Without Love”
Elvis “(You’re the) Devil in Disguise”
Zombies “She’s Not There”
Elton John “Benny & The Jets,” “Daniel,” “Rocket Man”
Jerry Lee Lewis “Great Balls of Fire”
Santana “Evil Ways”
Louis Armstrong “What A Wonderful World”
Youngbloods “Get Together”
Ad Libs “The Boy from New York City”
Peter Paul and Mary “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Leavin’ on a Jet Plane”
Rolling Stones “Ruby Tuesday”
Simon And Garfunkel “Bridge Over Troubled Water”
Happenings “See You in Septemeber”
Carole King “I Feel the Earth Move”
Yager and Evans “In the Year 2525”
Norman Greenbaum “Spirit in the Sky”
Brooklyn Bridge “Worst That Could Happen”
Three Degrees “When Will I See You Again”
Cat Stevens “Peace Train,” “Morning Has Broken”
Jan and Dean “Dead Man’s Curve”
Martha & the Vandellas “Nowhere to Run”
Martha and the Vandellas/Van Halen “Dancing in the Streets”
Hollies “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”
San Cooke Herman Hermits, “Wonder World”
Petula Clark “A Sign of the Times”
Don McLean “American Pie”
J. Frank Wilson “Last Kiss”
Buddy Holly and the Crickets “That’ll Be the Day”
John Lennon “Imagine”
Bobby Darin “Mack the Knife”
The Clash “Rock the Casbah”
Surfaris “Wipeout”
Blood Sweat and Tears “And When I Die”
Dave Clark Five “Bits and Pieces”
Tramps “Disco Inferno”
Paper Lace “The Night Chicago Died”
Frank Sinatra “New York, New York”
Creedence Clearwater Revival “Travelin’ Band”
The Gap Band “You Dropped a Bomb On Me”
Alien Ant Farm “Smooth Criminal”
3 Doors Down “Duck and Run”
The Doors “The End”
Third Eye Blind “Jumper”
Neil Diamond “America”
Lenny Kravitz “Fly Away”
Tom Petty “Free Fallin'”
Bruce Springsteen “I’m On Fire,” “Goin’ Down”
Phil Collins “In the Air Tonight”
Alice in Chains “Rooster,” “Sea of Sorrow,” “Down in a Hole,”
“Them Bone”
Beastie Boys “Sure Shot,” “Sabotage”
The Cult “Fire Woman”
Everclear “Santa Monica”
Filter “Hey Man, Nice Shot”
Foo Fighters “Learn to Fly”
Korn “Falling Away From Me”
Red Hot Chili Peppers “Aeroplane,” “Under the Bridge”
Smashing Pumpkins “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”
System of a Down “Chop Suey!”
Skeeter Davis “End of the World”
Rickey Nelson “Travelin’ Man”
Chi-Lites “Have You Seen Her”
Animals “We Gotta Get Out of This Place”
Fontella Bass “Rescue Me”
Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels “Devil with the Blue Dress”
James Taylor “Fire and Rain”
Edwin Starr/Bruce Springstein “War”
Lynyrd Skynyrd “Tuesday’s Gone”
Limp Bizkit “Break Stuff”
Green Day “Brain Stew”
Temple of the Dog “Say Hello to Heaven”
Sugar Ray “Fly”
Local H “Bound for the Floor”
Slipknot “Left Behind, Wait and Bleed”
Bush “Speed Kills”
311 “Down”
Stone Temple Pilots “Big Bang Baby,” “Dead and Bloated”
Soundgarden “Fell on Black Days,” “Black Hole Sun”

Phantom taste

Posted on January 9, 2006 by Eric Verlo

Nouveaux Tricheurs
News is that PHANTOM OF THE OPERA has now surpassed CATS as the longest running Broadway musical.

Is that worthy of celebration? Yes I certainly think it is. It is a milestone of the triumph of crap. Not just style over substance but crap over style and substance. The “style over substance” put-down always grants that a thing has style if little else, when in fact it may have neither. These days you only recognize style because someone’s large budget has declared it so.

Phantom of the Opera is crap. It has three quarters of a good melody at best, and the adaptation is awful. Phantom overtook Cats which had itself one full good song and retold an older story also badly. But don’t take my word for it, Google it!

What do they have in common, beside Sir Andrew Lloyd W? A Manhattan audience that doesn’t know art from something their precocious tyke made for them at school. The triumph that spanned the Reagan era and the present lawless frontier has yielded an audience of wealth mongerers, brokers, marketers, influence peddlers and their retenue that redefines philistine. They would applaud monster truck lap dances, for the irony of course. In the Alanis sense of the word I suppose.

Is Phantom of the Opera, good spectacle? Sure! Maybe like other mega-spawns of Broadway Vulgar, it should seek its own genre to dominate. Or step off Broadway to find its real competitors like Cirque du Soleil or that white lions show.

Operetta doesn’t presume to be opera, the Radio City Rockettes don’t pretend to present American Musical Theater. If we are celebrating the 8000 performance of Phantom on Broadway, that’s a lot of Broadway stage which could have been schlocking art.

This reminds me of the recent literary award given to Stephen King, for popularity.

Does it matter? I think so. It’s like giving the teacher of the year award to Xbox.

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