Dr. Dobson flip flops

The week started out with a ‘weepy’ Doctor Dobson pledging to be part of the national evangelical team to rehab the now much gayer, Teddy Haggard. But within one day, Pastor-Doctor Dobson found his work schedule to be ‘too busy’ to stay with the spiritual counselling team assembled. A shame, too, since he was the big CS local authority on deviant sex, besides Haggard himself, of course. Ted will now have to depend much more on telephone spiritual counselling by a more long distance prayer team. So why did Dobson bail out on this medical case? lol…….. Can’t gays be reformed into good heterosexual family men by the power of modern day medicine welded to such strong spirituality that Dobson surely has in hand?

It’s not just me that is interested in the firm character or lack thereof of Doctor Dobson. The Gazette has printed 2 letters quite upset at our Focus on The Evangelical Family leader, and one gets the impression that they had thousands more in their offices that they could have published if the paper had just been there in sufficient enough quantities. Did Doctor Dobson jump the spiritual Titantic that Ted ran aground due to his own personal fear? Fear that all that nonsense he has preaching through the years about homosexuals just being full of sin that could be tossed aside just like that, was nothing more than total bunk. Pastor Dobson, in his soul, knows that he has been preaching a lie, I think. And he fullly expects Ted to continue with ‘sin’ once agin.

Well, even the best friendships go astray when one’s career becomes endangered. Dobson thought that distance was the best part of valor. And as distant he will try to get. Speaking of not so distant…. Mexico.

All those ‘gay marriage’ proposals that got sunk in the states, and now the Mexican people have decided to legalize gay marriage in their capital. Satan pulled a fast one, it seems. Juan Gabriel, go for it! We need more gay mariachi music up North, so we hope to see you again in Santa Fe after your honeymoon! Viva Mexico!

Reimagining Guernica and Oaxaca

Mickey Mouse bombs defenseless civiliansThe Smokebrush Gallery has an exhibition of art running through November 19 at its gallery located under the bridge at 218 W. Colorado, on the theme of Pablo Picasso’s epic work in honor of a city destroyed by the Spanish fascists. That city was Guenica, Spain. I enjoyed some of the art I saw during the opening last Friday, and the prices were quite reasonable if one has the desire and money to purchase something there. There was one large painting of Disney Surreal that I liked which was only $200. A total bargain. It would definitely be an attention getter in somebody’s living room, say.

In similar vein to this exhibit, is yet another online video about the events in Oaxaca, which is a surreal montage of video shots mixed with some quite surreal grunge? music. Very effective in communicating the horrors of Mexican government repression in a style that Picasso would certainly have approved of. Check out the sight, and especially the sound, of Reimagining Oaxaca.

3 Fort Carson snipers die, no reason to cry

Probably one of the most disgusting lines of work the Pentagon arranges for ‘our troops’ to do, is the role of sniper. And three of these Fort Carson trained assassins just got blown up yesterday in Iraq, according to The Gazette headline today. The article had sort of a tearful quality to it, and this is part of the neo-con rehab for the reputation of snipers, torturers, and thugs of all stripes and varieities.
 
Cybersniper.com will give you even a musical rendition of this sniper rehab propaganda, and another sniper.com site had a collection going to help out US military snipers to get better equipment to shoot down Arabs with. Kind of a Toy for Tots thing, Bless their damned souls. But when most Americans think of snipers, they generally still think of Lee Harvey Oswald, and Charles Whitman, who shot down close to 50 people from the University Tower at the University of Texas in Austin. Let’s hope that people also remember that both got their training in the US Marine Corp, but they might not, I guess?

These three soldiers who just died in Iraq all trained as snipers at Fort Carson, but their dead bodies will head back to their hometowns, where no doubt the local press will talk about how proud their families are of them, how proud their local communities are of them, and how proud America is that they gave their lives in service to Bush and Cheney and the oil companies they represent. Hahaha, that last part is just untrue. The local press won’t mention that part of their ‘sevice’ for sure. My bad. They will be called hereoes, ‘sniper heroes’ even! Tears will wash ashore in remembrance of what fine men they were to choose this fine line of endeavour.

But the time to cry was when they joined the military and began to have the aspiration to train as long distance killers. They threw their lives away THEN, plain and simple. No reason to cry now. RIP, you three made the wrong turn in life. I’m crying for the orphan children of Iraq instead.

Batanga

Let’s face it. Colorado Springs has some of the crappiest radio stations of any sizable city in the country. I like Spanish language music, but the reception is so bad that 101.9 hardly comes in. And their selection of music isn’t so hot anyway. So you might try checking out this site, especially with high speed access. There are many different styles of Latin music available here for free. Try cumbia, bachata, and baladas for starters. Batanga

RIP, Freddy Fender

One of the greatest musicians of our times died last Sunday. My ex- next door neighbor recorded his Kentucky gospel music at Freddy’s studio in Corpus Christi, which I drove by numerous times before moving to Colorado Springs this summer. But I also grew up with the music of this great musician constantly being played on the radio and elsewhere, and it always lightened the mood for me. RIP, Freddy. You lived in a cruel world, with cruel laws and cruel punishments. Thank goodness you were able to overcome the cruelty of being tossed into Angola prison in Louisiana for merely smoking marijuana, and were able to write and play such beautiful songs that gave pleasure even to those who jailed you. We will miss you.

For the love of our war profits

The Home Front Cares. This event screams out for parody. The Gazette ran “For the Love of Our Troops” from the website above inside its entertainment pages on Friday, the same time it put the Quaker EWO Boots stuff up on the front page. Here is just a first run idea of how to counter this event:
 
FOR THE LOVE OF OUR UNGODLY PROFITS – HELP US KEEP ON MAKING A KILLING!

$2,500 a Plate Dinner Brought to you by Locknoheed Corporation and the rest of the Colorado Springs Military-Industrial Complex, the trashy local rag, the Colorado Slumlords Association, Mayor Rivera on behalf of Curious George Dubya to thank the US troops for slaughtering off half a million dirty Arab civilians PLUS them dirty Pashtuns of Afghanistan too. So sad some of you good ol’ boys got hurt, too.

5:30 PM, November 8, 2006 Antlers Hotel. Be there, or be shelled! You’ll get food, bad country music, and bullshit philosophy from a basketball coach, and all at the very low price of $2,500 a gold seat!

Leaflet brought to you by peace activist groups who support bringing our Troops Home Now. We’ll be there with you protesting this war without end.

MILFs and the state of public education

Yes, I know. I’m lucky. I was born under a lucky star. I have my health and my wealth. I have a big house, two fantabulous cars, and six exceptional children. I recently won the Filling the Deep End of the Gene Pool award. “Oh my goodness. I am so honored. I’d like to thank the Catholic Church, especially Father Foxhoven for his guidance during my difficult teenage years.” I have big boobs, a small butt (think upside down pear), and I’m generally considered a MILF, my daily affirmation. If you don’t know what a MILF is then (A) You don’t know any high school boys or (B) You don’t watch WEEDS.

My point? I am supposedly part of the elite….the people who have NO WORRIES….NO HEARTACHE….GOOD HAIR EVERY DAY. We wake up each morning and weep tears of joy at our good fortune. We drink mimosas before school and feel compassion for those who have less. “God, why? Why, oh why, isn’t everyone as blessed as I?”

Speaking of school. I am in a district with an incredible curriculum. We have a college prep program, Gifted and Talented programs, Science and Math Olympiad programs, Music programs, Advanced Placement programs that can get our kids into Stanford quicker than you can say “Will that be MasterCard or Visa?”

So what is my gripe? Well, the Ninth Court of Appeals recently ruled that when we turn our children over to the public school system, we check them at the door. THEY are in charge of MY children. My dynasty. They determine what my children learn, both in and out of the classroom. THEY? Who are they? Do THEY live on my street? Play golf at my country club? WHO THE FUCK ARE THEY?

Here’s who they are. THEY are the administrators who allowed a troubled little girl, out-of-district-but-we-do-like-to-be-inclusive, push my perfect baby boy off the top of the slide and break his arm with absolutely no punishment. THEY are the principal who suspended my perfect baby girl for writing a clever cartoon about how girlz can deal with pesky boyz by spraying them with freeze spray and framing and hanging them in the hallway–something about a specific threat against a named individual. THEY are the government fuckheads who make my perfect darlings walk through the halls with “safe hands” clasped behind their backs so they can’t threaten anyone. THEY are the counselors who called my children in during my very amicable divorce without my permission to tell them about how uncertain their futures are now that their parents have split up.

I am one of the fortunate individuals who has options. I can move my children to another school within the district. I can change districts. I can move to a private school. I can home school. Actually, I’ve opted to do several of these over the years. But since I pay my property taxes and abide by the Constitution, I would rather bitch. Bitch about government overstepping its bounds. Bitch about social engineering. Bitch about the NEA. Bitch about revisionist history. Mostly I want to bitch about people–people who control people. The unluckiest people in the world.

The dark side of white music

What’s insidious about Country & Western Music? I’ll tell you. I thought I was just incensed at its hypocrisy because it rewards multimillionaire entertainers for talking like hicks. Country singers pretend to be simpleton hillbillies, possessed maybe with down-home smarts, but really they are finely-honed corporate media assets.

That used to just burn me up. The lying tight-jeaned shits, selling America on poverty vices like alcohol, tobacco and firearms while appearing to champion the little man. Honoring the blue-collar joe while keeping him down.

The worse consequence of Country Music has not shown itself until recent times, now that we have conservative hayseeds -or appear to have- good ol’ boys in charge of everything. Pretty abruptly we can see the danger of idolizing dim-witted cowpokes.

Country Music elevates and ascribes a kind of wisdom to dumb in-bred kids who eschew school lernin. To them it’s all about thinking from your gut, hell, thinking while drunk. It’s drinking wisdom, commonsensical wisdom, the wisdom of seeing no further than your own holler, of black and white issues and ass-kicking diplomacy.

That’s the damn insidious result of worshiping a west that never was, and a motto that is not real. That’s the uncomplicated, eternally pubescent world of Country Music.

America is a nation dominated by a low common denominator. It gets lower every day as people grow dumber from pellagra malnutrition and being left behind by our education system. That denominator has an anthem: Country & Western Music.

It’s the same melody, the same guitar riff, the same build, the same harmony. You can hum it the first time you hear it because it’s the same song. And it always says:

I’m proud to be a [dumbshit],
Where at least I know [what do I know?]
Bla bla bla [we’ll shit on whoever we please],
Bla bla bla God Bless the [arian nation of dumbfucks]!

Digital reproduction of aluminum

1. Aluminum Siding
In the German film epic HEIMAT, an unscrupulous brother brags about the lucrative post-war business of aluminum siding. Barry Levinson’s 1987 TIN MEN depicted the same competitive salesmanship arena stateside. In Germany the aluminum siding industry was more of a scam because the aluminum wasn’t covering clapboard houses.

In Germany the salesmen were offering aluminum siding to replace historic decorative trim. Modern aluminum doors and window frames were being offered to replace old-world crafted wood pieces. The same salesman installing shiny new aluminum were warehousing the original antique pieces for resale to more savvy consumers.

Aluminum has been the wonder material with the cache of being aeronautic light and rust free. But took a hit when aluminum cooking ware was linked to alzheimer’s.

Element Digit2. Digital a new aluminum
Is digital the new miracle element on the alchemist’s Periodic Table? Is it better than its representative predecessor, analog? A digital watch might be easier to read than an analog dial because you don’t have to learn how to convert the information. But digital time is not really as versatile from a distance, or at an angle, or upside down.
 
But so it began. Digital is cheaper to manufacture, no mechanical parts, and without it we would not have computers. Computers rung in the digital age. Thus the digital halo.

Next up for the consumer, digital sound, and next, digital visuals. That’s where digital’s ascendancy may stumble.

Are digital compact discs indeed better than vinyl records? Music audiophiles will tell you no. Let’s revisit that question in a moment.

Who is convinced that digital cell phones are better than analog? Cheaper to make certainly, cheaper to broadcast, the recordings are easier to archive. Better for the telecoms, but for you? Digital cellphone service means more drop-outs and degraded signals. Remember when you could say, “wow, it sounds like you’re in the next room”? That wasn’t digital. Digital is the age of “can you hear me now? Um, how about now?”

I am not sitting in judgment of the potential of digital representation obviously, merely of cheap digital representation. With the technology of digital processing came fuzzy logic and compression. Each innovation was designed to reduce the digital reproduction to its most efficient lowest quality necessary.

CDs reproduce music for the average not so discerning ear. Sony’s Minidiscs reduced the complexity of the signal for what they determined the average ear could discern in the midst of car or jogging noises. MP3s filter out further signals based on the user’s own sense of what quality is good enough.

3. Digital is unnatural
It turns out we’re all a little more discerning with our vision. We can easily tell the difference between film and video. The film image is richer, warmer and more lifelike. Video is higher contrast and more stark. On the Internet we can all recognize compression artifacts and noise, even if we don’t know it by name. We see it because it does not look natural. That’s digital compression and it’s creeping into TV and DVD products because it’s cheaper for someone along the line.

Do we mind digital images? I guess not. Do we prefer them? No.

Musicians prefer the more natural sounds produced by analog amplifiers. Of course everyone is trying to represent the original, natural sound.

We can see the unnatural aspects of digital imagery. It may hurt our vision or it may not. Perhaps we can deduce that our ears are being assailed with similar digital mediocrity. So far it’s only the discriminating audiophiles who liken digital reproduction to nails on a chalkboard. Until it’s linked to Alzheimer’s.

Bush the yapping idiot

Gotta get Hezbolla to stop this shitIn Al Gore’s film AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH, much is made of Gore’s new found demeanor. Yes he’s a lot smoother and passionate. It helps that the camera captures him more intimately, and that he had directorial control over how he is portrayed. Contrast this to a hostile media determined in 2000 to make Gore look as bad as possible. Corporate media made Gore’s I-discovered-Love-Canal, I-invented-the-Internet, and Love-Story-was-written-about-me remarks look buffoonish instead of the remarkable half-truths they really were.
 
Juxtapose Gore’s role with George W’s microphone gaff at the G-8.

Not just his expletive, not just his eating with his mouth open and talking with his mouth full, but the inanity of his statements. “Syria has got to get Hezbolla to stop this shit” duh. (See a GREAT musical lampoon at the Huffington Post!)
 
What about his earlier observation: “Russia’s big. So’s China.” Wow.

Our media made hay with Bush’s expletive. The world press came to the bigger conclusion. Idiot. The British saw and heard their Tony Blair, normally of impeccable intellect, play lap dog to a yapping idiot.

To compare Bush and Gore reminds me of the 2000 presidential debates when it was clear as day that Bush was Edward E. Neuman to Gore’s everyman. Bush was Lilliputian.

Yet when the cameras went out to “spin alley” to consult the pundits, wee conservative dweebs told us giddily that Bush had won.

Affluenza

The hills are alive with the sound of music
Are you worried that your children might be suffering from Affluenza, a degenerative virus pervasive among the world’s affluent cultures? Many of America’s youth can easily grow up insulated from an understanding of the human condition. Here are some recommended films for introducing affluent children to the larger world.

All these films are kid friendly. They are about children and are not too traumatic. The only mature subject presented is the world view.

While you endure your daily travails in the security of American suburbia, ninety percent of families on earth live in houses with a single room and no furniture. Meals are prepared and served on the floor, and the floor is of dirt.

Here are three films which can provide a gentle visual introduction to the reality of impoverished humanity: Baraka, Powaqqatsi: Life in Transformation and Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance. Each of these feature photographic images set to music, from Philip Glass to classical. Latcho Drom is another film without dialog. It depicts the traditional Gypsy migration from India to Spain, told entirely in musical performances.

For examples of children showing determination under adversity, with subtitles, Children of Heaven tells of a brother and sister in Iran who must share a pair of shoes. Another warm depiction of everyday muslim life is The White Balloon. A child’s upbringing in India is portrayed in Satyajit Ray’s 1954 masterpiece Pather Panchali.

For children who are ready for a little more adversity there’s A Time For Drunken Horses about boys hired to smuggle goods into Iraqi Kurdistan. For a light hearted glimpse of the challenges faced by Romany beggars there is The Time of the Gypsies and Mondo.

And now for something completely different, in English, here’s a humorous look at the life of the Bushmen of the Kalihari, The Gods Must Be Crazy. Another incredible tale, set on the coast of Ireland, The Secret of Roan Inish offers an appreciation of the mystical possibilities of life.

To see this collection for growing minds at TOONS.

Hee Haw rides again

Hee Haw rides again!
Reprise: Junior Samples, Grandpa Jones, Buck Owens and Roy Clark.
 
No I’m messing with you. This is the cast of Blue Collar Comedy Tour Rides Again or something like that. Three funny guys who make an enormous living by speaking for the common man, plus the Cable Guy, their greek chorus, in this case impersonating the common lower common man. Really, when Larry The Cable Guy, Bill Engvall, Jeff Foxworthy and Ron White appear in promotional pictures, CD covers or movie posters, they are never shown in any other order than where their fans have seen them sit on their Comedy Central special. What an interesting opinion of the intellectual incapacity of your target audience.

I caught a little of this popular act on TV and I knew I’d seen it somewhere before. HEE HAW! It was funny then, and it’s funny still. But back then we didn’t have hicks for country music stars and for race car drivers and for president of the United States. Is this where you get when you idolize people who behave like they were schooled in a barn?

We make multi-millionaires out of people who talk like hayseeds. Nothin’ wrong with hayseeds, on tractors naturally. And clearly country music stars, like redneck comedy stars and like NASCAR driving stars have a lot more going for them upstairs than your average service station gofer. Most of the time we can tell that politicians and preachers who pander to the lowest common denominator, are not themselves so gullible. However, we don’t want our doctors to be hayseeds, nor our scientists, nor our news reporters, nor even customer service representatives. Why are we looking for comedic wisdom from hayseeds?

Lauding a hayseed for comedic wit seems to me to set a terrible example. We’re supposed to laugh at what stupid thinks is stupid? It’s terrifying to me that there’s even an entire auditorium full of stupids who want to hear country dumbkins opine about life. This is misogeny and gay-bashing and oversimplification of everything. Sure it’s funny to laugh at political correctness, until you consider why something is thought correct or incorrect in the first place. Life is a little bit complicated, and we don’t mind admitting that we like the most qualified person to be driving the bus. What is so funny about an idiot sounding off? Especially in a world where the court jester resembles the radio commentator and worse our presidential dauphin.

These guys tell the same jokes to each other, even work in ad libs for each other from their own original routines. This would not be so bad except that the good ol’ boys give each other kudos for their clever repartees, even though the audience would know from the CD they’ve already memorized that even the joviality is canned.

Most of us, when retelling a story in the presence of someone who we might have told already, will begin by saying “I was telling such-an-such…” so awkward are we about repeating ourselves. Performers naturally have to repeat themselves, and have to act among each other like the material is fresh. But to give each other credit for extemporizing a put-down is pretty damn lower denominator.

Phantom taste

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.

Veteran’s Day parade, part 1

Prussian charge
I should say that I had never watched a veteran’s parade, I think. Wasn’t it supposed to be a parade of veterans? This was a parade of mostly active duty soldiers and soldiers-to-be. It was very disturbing.

There was a flatbed trailer, there may have been several of these interspersed, on which stood a current war hero. He straddled the platform, his hands on his hips, striking a valiant pose, his chin held high and to the side. A large placard read: recipient of medal so-and-so.

There were marching bands, real young faces. I hoped that as excited as they were to be in the parade, that they weren’t thinking of joining the military.

I had just met a gentleman looking for legal advice for his daughter who’d recently signed up. She was a promising musician in high school, she played the coronet. A recruiter had told her that the army was in desperate need of musicians. They needed her for their marching band. The recruiter assured her that she wouldn’t have anything to do with the fighting, but that she could serve her country in its hour of need, by offering to do something that she loved. She signed on.

No sooner was she through boot camp that she learned she was being sent to Iraq. She and her fellow musicians were told: leave your instruments at home, you won’t need them.

Among the marching bands was a band called the Rampart Regiment, (actually Rampart High School’s marching band, and state champions). But their uniforms were terribly unfortunate. They were black, a sort of turn of the century look with high hats, and a large black feather. They looked like Prussians, or what we would recreate in our minds if we were trying to visualize those mercenary Hessians! Their outfits hearkened to a day when the uniforms meant to intimidate.

Does anyone remember what distinguished the aggressive from the defensive soldiers in the last world wars? The Allies had the frumpy uniforms because they didn’t mind being seen as sympathetic. The aggressive soldiers are the ones who want to scare the bejezus out of their enemies. This has been true since warfare began.

White hat versus black hat, it’s true for cowboys and hackers. Good guys and bad guys.

What was Rampart thinking to dress their band looking like black draped raiders? They look like Cossacks about to swing down and slice you in the back as you try to flee from them.

What business do we have trying to glorify the terror of war?

I was horrified too by what appeared to be den mothers, preening their little kids in their little uniforms, to salute the passing soldiers. These were not just boy scout uniforms but miniature military outfits. I couldn’t help but think these kids were wishing that someday they too could be featured in the parade.

At that point I noticed there weren’t any wheelchairs in the parade. Top be sure many of the WWII vets may not be so ambulatory nowadays, but their disabilities were concealed by the antique cars from which they waved. Why couldn’t something like that have been arranged for the wounded Iraq war vets?

There weren’t any crutches or wheelchairs or homeless drunkards which comprise the largest contingent of Vietnam vets. Now we’re learning it’s even more true for the Gulf Gar vets. And there were no mentally addled vets with bandaged heads to symbolize their injuries.

And certainly the Veterans For Peace and the Iraq Veterans Against the War were denied permission to participate.

Then there was something most disturbing of all: a guy in army fatigues, youngish, stocky, probably a drill sergeant but uncharacteristically casual, and he was working the crowd. In nonchalant fashion, he was rallying both participants and spectators with a call and response routine.

“God bless America” he would shout. “God bless America” the crowd answered. I was reminded of something Bismark had famously said in the 19th century: “God protects fools, drunkards, and the United States of America.”

There we were, this veteran’s day, a day to honor veterans, ignoring the veterans altogether. An active duty soldier rallying soldiers and the families of soldiers: “God bless America.” “God bless America.”

Over and over. “God bless America.” “God bless America.”

We will need it.

Uncouth party crasher

Rude cowhand showoff
Have you seen the 60-second TV spot by Chemistri called “Party Crashers?” A vulgar Cadillac STS drives into a ballroom where other performance sedans are dancing a well choreographed eighteenth century Gavotte. They’re opening their doors to each other in gracefull salutes when the Caddie interrupts, and barges to center. The music changes to Led Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll” and the other cars are forced out of the way.
 
Reprinted from Subvertize.com

Get your own radio station

I took umbrage with the INDEPENDENT reader last week who responded to a call for more public input into public radio station KRCC news programming with the cry “Get your own radio station!”

Isn’t that the old “love it or leave it” retort?

While efforts to develop a community owned radio station are underway, let’s not ignore that the Colorado Springs public already has its own radio station: KRCC. We love it, and we’d love for it to be better.

No one wants to politicize KRCC. Rather, we’d prefer to see more balance in its news coverage. If NPR is your idea of non-partisan news reporting you are mistaken. Last week’s Indy “white wash” issue was full of stories you didn’t hear even on NPR. What does anybody have against hearing the real news?

NPR beat the war drums like every other corporate mouthpiece. Even this summer they under-reported the half million turn-out at the RNC peace march. NPR’s political agenda is I believe unforgivable.

The traditional obstruction to public input at KRCC is always exasperating. A Prairie Home Companion would not be on KRCC but for the lobbying efforts of KRCC listeners. Imagine that! The Thomas Jefferson Hour as well.

The KRCC managers are not neutral, they are obstinate. Let’s get them to air some real grassroots news and see how much more popular the station will become, again thanks to its listeners.

If you’d like your programming opinions to be heard, The Pike Peak Media Alliance has set up a website to gather your ideas. At myKRCC.org we can accumulate public input into a groundswell KRCC management will no longer be able to deny. Let’s reclaim KRCC for the public radio station it is supposed to be. The music’s fine. Who’s afraid of a little informative news?

Reprinted from The Independent

Dear Vivendi

TOONS 45 sleeve
On behalf of TOONS, a music and video store in Colorado Springs, I’m writing you to ask for your help to obtain the domain TOONS.COM, where many of our customers automatically presume to find us. Even friends try to email me there.

Your company has held the rights to TOONS.COM, although it is currently in expiration. We’ve learned that a cyber-squatter is poised to seize it and that is why you are uniquely capable of helping us.

TOONS has been in business since 1990 and we possess the trademark in Colorado. When in 1995 we sought the domain name we found it was already owned by JAMTV for their TUNES.COM website. As a phonetic surrogate, TOONS.COM was used to redirect surfers to TUNES.COM. Fair enough.

Later we notice that JAMTV has been absorbed into the EMUSIC empire and the TUNES site no longer exists. TUNES.COM now redirects to ROLLINGSTONE.COM, again a logical use, but TOONS.COM, perhaps because it is no longer phonetically relevant, is being abandoned.

Now that EMUSIC.COM, MP3.COM and ROLLINGSTONE.COM are all under the VIVENDI umbrella, we have been unsure as to who we might contact about the discarded domain.

TOONS can be found on the web at TOONSMUSIC.COM where we host a popular film website. We’d be most grateful to have TOONS.COM.

Toons is discovered by Business Journal

Here’s a very nice article about the unique film collection at TOONS.
Reprinted from The Colorado Springs Business Journal:

‘Oasis’ for the offbeat
By BOZENA WELBORNE, Editorial Intern

Most people, when they think of Toons — if they’ve heard of the store at all — will envision a graffiti-ridden former gas station-turned-store on Nevada Avenue. Its location and its ambience make it a likely hangout for the Colorado College students in its vicinity.

But it’s much more than that. Toons actually draws much of its clientele from “working, commuting students from UCCS or other community colleges, as well as students who come by during the holidays,” said Eric Verlo, the founder of the music, video and vintage items store.

The store has an eclectic collection of videos, used albums and CDs, vintage posters and collectibles that run the gamut from “clairvoyant,” heat-sensitive gummy fish (the cheapest item in the store at 25 cents, and very popular with those CC students) to $2,000 vintage jukeboxes (the most expensive item and the least likely to be sold, Verlo says).

Most of the used goods come directly from the closets and attics of the Colorado Springs community. Generally, Toons will purchase used items at 50 percent of their original price, though it may vary according to the quality of the item or how many copies of the item Toons has in stock.

Toons’ owner is especially proud of the store’s diverse video collection, with 4,700 titles and maintains they are not merely hard-to-find videos, but videos the average person has “probably never even heard of.” What the store can’t make up in number, it makes up in the sheer diversity of its collection. There is also a very strong Eastern European film collection, as well as the obligatory French films.

Verlo emphasizes the highly academic nature of a portion of the collection, maintaining that many of the films are chosen specifically because of their sociopolitical or cultural significance.

Because the store carries such a diverse assortment of items diverging from the mainstream, Verlo is hard-pressed to identify any competitors. The most likely candidates would be Media Play, Best Buy and Blockbuster Video. Verlo says those retailers are just beginning to realize the potential of catering to the non-mainstream market, of “introducing people to new things,” and may increasingly compete directly with Toons.

Few people know that there are actually two Toons stores, one at 802 N. Nevada Ave., but also a less well-known store at 3163 W. Colorado Ave. The latter, actually called the Bookman, opened first in 1990, while the Nevada Avenue location opened at the site of an old gas station in 1993, in a conscious effort to drift away from the typical strip-mall-feel evident at many stores.

Verlo came up with the idea of opening such a store while visiting his retired parents in Colorado Springs. Verlo started contemplating what he would do after his own retirement and, considering his passion for books, decided that he would like to own a bookstore and thus, the initial idea of Toons was formed. Verlo’s unique life has also had an influence on the eclectic nature of the store. Verlo is a graduate of UCLA who has lived in France and the Philippines, and has traveled extensively.

Verlo estimates startup costs fell somewhere in the $10,000 range. Since the idea of the store was a gradual development, the inventory itself was gradually collected without a specific vision. So, the cost of accumulating the inventory wound up being more expensive. Today, Verlo knows that probably was not the best way to purchase the store’s inventory, but the method is responsible for the store’s unique, museum-like feel. He emphasizes that the store’s existence is not really driven as much by a profit motive as it is by the idea of creating a collection of unusual items to intrigue and be enjoyed by the entire community. Toons is still pretty much breaking even with any excess profit immediately re-invested into enlarging the diversity of the store’s wares. This accentuates the fact that it is really a labor of love on Verlo’s part, as well as that of the staff.

Although it expanded to the Nevada Avenue store in 1993, Toons is now branching out onto the Internet with its own Web site at http://www.toonsmusic.com. The store’s staff created and maintains the site.

Ironically, Colorado Springs’ growth has not benefited Toons. Verlo said most of the growth has been at the outskirts of the city. Because of this, he says, fewer people come downtown, where the store is located.

Currently, Toons is trying to attract a more upscale, older clientele at the Nevada Avenue store and has consequently sectioned off a portion of the store, hoping to appeal to this new client base. Jitterbuzz.com, a top Washington D.C.-based Web site for swing and lindy hop aficionados, called the section “the largest swing selection of any record store in town (Colorado Springs).” Verlo hopes the store’s new setup offers some variety, while allowing the older and younger generations to choose whether to interact or keep to themselves.

Verlo believes that Toons’ ultimate legacy for the Colorado Springs community is its very existence. It provides the city with an oasis of non-mainstream ideas. Verlo advises those who seek success or at least contentment in the business arena to “do what (they) want in life,” as he did in creating Toons.