Methology Redux

One scorching afternoon in June, a cadre of Phoenix New Times writers and editors gathered at a small, dark bar in downtown Phoenix. What better way for journalists to plan a drug series than over cocktails? We knew crystal methamphetamine was a tremendous problem in our community, overwhelming law enforcement…

Crystal Not-So-Clear

Crystal Not-So-Clear The Bird wouldn’t be surprised if readers who’ve been following New Times’ series “The Perfect Drug,” on crystal meth in Arizona (the final installment of which is in this issue), are left with a certain distrust of the so-called “facts” presented by our fearless civic leaders. After all,…

Trill Thrills

The Thandie Newton of P-town and I plan to stay fly ’til we die just like the Dirty South’s Three 6 Mafia, but we also wanna keep it trill, y’all. That’s the combo of “true” and “real.” And I can’t think of a spot truer or realer at the moment…

Letters From the Issue of Thursday, December 15, 2005

Judge Not Jurist prudence: In reading about Judge Warren Granville’s attitude on the bench and the issues with the County Attorney’s Office, I say one thing: “Bravo! You go, Judge” (“Judicial Blacklash,” Paul Rubin, December 1)! It isn’t often that one gets to see a truly competent jurist like Granville…

Bad Medicine

If you’re super bored, or really desperate, you can make crystal meth from Tylenol Cold/Severe Congestion cool-burst caplets. You need denatured ethanol, or acetone, or anhydrous ammonia. You need iodine crystals and red phosphorous. And then you need 16,560 Tylenol caplets — a purchase that alone will set you back…

Meth Treatment

Pretty, blond, and poised, Jamie doesn’t look like a meth addict. But she’s been using for four years, since she was 19. She smoked some this morning. She smokes some every day. She has to. “I need it every morning to get started, and then on my lunch hour,” she…

Crash Course

As the December 3 Colorado City Unified School District board of governors meeting draws to a close, Alvin Barlow, Arizona’s longest tenured public school superintendent, instinctively opens his pocket calendar to set the date for the next meeting. Barlow flips through the calendar for a few seconds and fumbles with…

Boobs in Scottsdale

Attention, fight fans: The Bird would like to direct your attention to Scottsdale, where anxious strippers are gearing up for a battle that may prove epic. In this corner, the City of Scottsdale, armed with the best legal advice money can buy and a burning desire to save its citizens…

Letters From the Issue of Thursday, December 8, 2005

The Meth Plague How to deal: My hat goes off to Maggie Voss and her accomplishments. What she’s done for herself and her family is no easy feat (“Ice, Ice, Baby,” Robert Nelson and Joe Watson, November 24). I know this because my story is very much like hers: hard-core…

Judicial Blacklash

Warren Granville is about the last judge anybody expected to become the target of attack dogs from the Maricopa County Attorney’s Office. Granville was a prosecutor for two decades before he became a judge in 2000. He takes the city bus to the downtown Phoenix courthouse every day, walks to…

Life Teen Founder Busted

Monsignor Dale Fushek, once second-in-command of the Phoenix Diocese and founder of the nation’s top church-based program for Catholic teenagers, has been arrested on 10 misdemeanor counts involving sexual misconduct with teenage boys and young men. The charges stem from the accounts of six men who all say they were…

Wisdom of the Ancestors

I first met former Hopi tribal chairman Vernon Masayesva in December 1992, when my then-wife and I were publishing a weekly newspaper in Flagstaff. Masayesva called one afternoon and said he wanted to tell me a story of great importance to his tribe. A few days later, we met at…

Dead Man Driving

Dead Man Driving In one way, the ticket James Hamburg got for running a red light on Country Club Drive in October wasn’t so unusual. He was heading south when the light at University Drive turned red, and he kept going. Woo hoo! The camera snapped his picture, and the…

We Be Buggin’

“Ready to wrap your lips around a hookah, Kreme?” asks the J-Unit as we worm our way through the party people toward the bar at Mythos, this fly Mediterranean joint in Scottsdale that looks like it’s right out of Jabba the Hutt’s throne room in Return of the Jedi, with…

Letters From the Issue of Thursday, December 1, 2005

Music Scene Stealers In his Element: Great article! Element is the man! But I didn’t realize I was shopping or “primping myself” for a major-label record deal until I read your story (“Quiet Riot,” Jimmy Magahern, November 17). I agree about people not paying attention to the locals in the…

Ice, Ice, Baby

Maggie Voss cried as her 7-year-old son, Ryan, received a Student of the Month award from his school’s principal recently. The weeping was a little weird, but the other parents didn’t seem to notice. Some suburban moms tend to overreact to their babies’ accomplishments. That’s a given. It’s better than…

What’s Eating Crow?

Arizona State University president Michael Crow’s stepped up his campaign to turn the most populous main campus in the nation into America’s most sterile institution of higher learning. Having already neutered ASU’s unruly fraternity community and squashed any display of politically oriented window decorations in dorm windows (because college kids…

Letters From the Issue of Thursday, November 24, 2005

Polygamyland On the run: I fully expect to see a cartoon in New Times soon of staff writer John Dougherty — white mane flowing and tape recorder in outstretched hand — chasing tall, skinny polygamist leader Warren Steed Jeffs down that long driveway leading to the polygamists’ new temple in…

Meth and Sex

Nothing about Theresa’s Noxzema-fresh face, curvy body, and just-washed auburn hair reveals the hell she put herself through for more than 20 years. “I know I don’t look like it now,” Theresa says, sipping an iced chai tea at Willow House, a downtown Phoenix coffee house, “but I did some…

Quiet Riot

There’s a party going on Thursday nights at the Shaker Room — if you’re savvy enough to find the dance floor. The club, practically hidden across a patio and up a flight of stairs behind Martini Ranch, is, to begin with, too far back from Stetson Drive to draw in…

Torturous Times

Welcome to America, where our fearless leader’s busy golfing and barely bothered by reports that the CIA’s been hiding al-Qaeda prisoners in secret Eastern European jails formerly operated by the Soviet KGB. Where our entertainment’s provided by Team America’s second-in-command, Dick “Terrorist Your Game Is Through” Cheney, who’s lobbying Congress…

Funktified Friday

“Suck a duck, Jett, you’re getting collard juice all over my brand-new kicks!” I yelp as the AC/DC Gabrielle Union spoons some greens into her kisser. “I just got these K-Swiss at Steven’s Shoes, you crazy chickenhead.” “Mmmm, these truffled collards are delish,” she moans, as if in heat. “And…