California Schemin’

Earlier this month, the Blue Cross and Blue Shield Association commandeered the National Press Club for a “media briefing.” Reporters from publications like the New York Times and Wall Street Journal showed up en masse. The news of the day on March 11 was the filing of a mammoth lawsuit…

10-Pin Pimpin’

Some chicks just hate to see a man enjoying himself. And Jett, the PHX’s bisexual Rachel Bilson, is one of those. The other day, I’m lounging in my New Times office, feet up, halfway through a box of peanut-butter Girl Scout cookies, crumbs all over my shirt, when the bizzatch…

Letters

SEX AND THE CITY Perversion, plus a buffet!: My wife and I have wintered in the Valley for many years, and we often read New Times for the informative articles. But this past week, I was shocked and appalled to discover that you sent one of your writers to one…

The ME Show

It’s 11 a.m. on a Wednesday, and Christian Brower steps over the doggy gate into his office, adjusts the shutters on the window facing the front yard of his home on a quiet residential street in Gilbert, and gets to work. Sitting down in front of his computer, Brower pulls…

Feed Your Head!

To get up and running with what the best vloggers and podcasters are putting out — without putting yourself out — it’s best to start by installing a pair of free programs that do all the work of searching and downloading for you. Start with a “podcatching” client, like iPodder…

Letters

What Would Jesus Write? Bunch of martyrs: I just wanted to say that Charles Pyeatte’s rant in last week’s Letters column (“The Passion of the Priest,” March 10) was more of the same tired-ass Christian/Catholic/law enforcement rhetoric that we have all heard a million times. Quit milking the Jesus thing,…

Almost-Almost Famous

“Jeez, Jett, try not to pull a Dale Earnhardt on our ass!” I croak as the PHX’s sultry, bi-lovin’ speed-demoness skids around a corner toward the alt-music nightspot Modified Arts near Seventh Street and Roosevelt. “Plus there’s po-po all around, and I’ve got an open bottle of Stoli in my…

Illusions of Grandeur

Three years ago, Bill Tonnesen self-published a book announcing his plans to become one of the top modern artists in the world. The undisputed giants of the field were Richard Serra and James Turrell, he wrote. “Then I thought, there would be me.” At the time, Tonnesen wasn’t just little-known…

Religious Wrong

Mesa Republican Representative Russell Pearce, co-chairman of the powerful Arizona House Appropriations Committee, is launching a pitched assault on the First Amendment to the Constitution. Pearce, a member of the Salt Lake City-based Mormon Church, put language in this year’s state budget bill to eliminate funding for campus publications in…

Sex Club Shenanigans

“No matter what happens here tonight, Kreme, we ain’t knockin’ boots,” declares my sometimes Sapphic, sometimes stick-happy sidekick, Jett, as we’re parking the Impala near Club Chameleon, the PHX’s premier palace of swing. “So don’t get any ideas!” “Hell, girl, you can keep ’em on,” I smirk as we head…

Letters

Barely Legal Amend the institution: Thank you for your insightful article regarding Father Dale Fushek (“Cross to Bare,” Robert Nelson, February 24). My guess is there are many more victims of Father Dale’s out there who may never come forward. When is the Diocese of Phoenix going to start helping…

Destiny’s Child

Sometime soon, a marked man named Ike Diogu will make a momentous decision — whether to stick around Arizona State University for his senior season or set sail for the National Basketball Association. The Pac-10’s Player of the Year would be a probable first-round selection in the upcoming NBA draft…

Contaminated Splendor

There’s no fishing, swimming or boating on Arizona’s second largest lake, which has suddenly appeared in the desert about 80 miles southwest of Phoenix. It’s been 12 years since there was enough winter rainfall to swell the Gila River to the point that it creates the huge lake behind the…

Low-Rent Libertines

It’s midnight at Sadisco’s monthly ball of glorious, gutter depravity, and the debauch is in full swing. Some industrial joint is screeching from the speakers, and the TVs are screening the grisly serial-killer pic Saw. There’s trash on the floor and bloodstains on the checkerboard pattern pasted all over Jugheads,…

Letters

Let Us Prey Two lives devastated: I just finished reading Robert Nelson’s article regarding Dale Fushek (“Cross to Bare,” February 24). Nelson did a wonderful job. I have to say that when I began reading and I saw my and Jim Partsch’s names, my heart started racing. I don’t know…

Detour for Dummies

It’s probably been terribly tough getting ahold of your artist friends lately. Don’t worry, that monolithic mixed-media piece of theirs hasn’t toppled over and pinned them helplessly. Chances are, your pals’ve been furiously focused with putting final flourishes on their contributions to this year’s Art Detour. After all, they’ve gotta…

State of the Art

What began as a quiet gallery stroll is approaching full-blown street fair now that thousands of regulars clog Roosevelt Street on the first Friday of even the hottest Phoenix month. Walking a block can take strategy and patience, because the art isn’t just in the crowded galleries anymore. Recently, countless…

Paint the Town

You don’t fool me for a minute. You’re admiring that Jeff Falk painting, maybe even whispering to your companion about Jeff’s confident use of tempura and his canny allusions to Marc Chagall, but I know what you’re really thinking. You’re thinking about the turkey and Brie sandwich at My Florist…

Uncle Gonzo

Trouble is, now I’ll never be able to collect that $21,000 that Hunter S. Thompson’s owed me for going on 20 years. Not that I ever had expected to see a bloody nickel of the money that the son of a bitch had avoided coughing up until he recently blew…

Chill Like That

What’s up with all the freakin’ rain in this town? Sure, I’ll be singin’ another tune come August, but I didn’t move to the middle of the desert to live in Seattle south. Now I know why everyone in the Pacific Northwest does heroin. Damn, if I have to spend…

Letters

Much Ado About Joe We’re the ones who pay: John Dougherty’s article (“Recall Joe!” February 10) should form the foundation of a well-deserved recall movement, but I’d like to add two points: When he first ran for office, Joe Arpaio campaigned on the concept that his tough-on-crime policies would reduce…

Turn Up the Heat

Tents have gone up in flames before at Sheriff Joe Arpaio’s infamous outdoor compound. And there’s no reason to think it won’t happen again at Tent City. With virtually unlimited access to cigarettes, booze and drugs, enraged inmates could torch the tents, just like they did on October 4, 1994,…