2003-08 Vital Source Mag – August 2003
Vegetarianism as spiritual choice.
By Sanut Gloria Tarrer Humans are individuals. That is, we are an indivisible duality. And although body and spirit are divisible by label, and by energy and matter, they are still one and the same. The body is a vessel for the spirit, which grants the foundation of spiritual development, provided the body receives the essential elements to nurture optimal health. Thus, the healthier the body is, the greater the potential for spiritual growth. The connection between vegetarianism and spirituality is profound. But what does it mean to “be spiritual”? Humans function out of three faculties — mental, emotional and spiritual. Most people primarily utilize the first two faculties. They use their thinking abilities and their feelings to solve problems, find a mate, be employed, etc. A spiritual person functions primarily from their spiritual faculty, actively working to overcome conditioned behavior and habits. For instance, it’s not natural for people to be angry, sad, excited, etc. If it were, all people would share the same emotions about the same event every time. Not everyone is overcome by sadness upon losing a loved one. Not everyone gets angry when confronted or accused. These are programmed responses. Spiritual growth takes place when one learns to ignore these emotional responses. Vitality is essential to spirituality. A major component of spiritual growth is vitality. Vitality is essential to ignoring negative thoughts and emotions. Have you ever noticed that when your vitality is high, you have a sunny outlook on life, greater mental clarity, higher decision-making capacity and feel more disciplined and tolerant? Have you noticed that when your vitality is low, you tend to be more emotional, pessimistic and forgetful? An important key to vitality is the quality of food one consumes. Extensive research has shown that vegetable protein is superior to animal protein. The quality of vegetable protein, i.e. nuts, has a greater chance to be more nutritious, especially in raw form. Vegetable protein is full of enzymes. Science shows us that the more you cook food, the more enzymes it loses. Enzymes act as catalysts for chemical processes in the body that produce energy. And many sources of vegetable protein can be consumed raw. For how many sources of animal protein is this also true? Almost none. And if one consumes animal protein raw, what effect does it have on health? Usually it’s harmful. Also, to believe animal flesh must be consumed in order to sufficiently supply the body with protein is unreasonable. If one looks at protein from a spiritual perspective, unfettered by desires and unbound by taste, one will find that protein is abundantly found in beans, peas, nuts and some whole grains. When one consumes food merely based on taste, it demonstrates a violation of spiritual laws, because the pleasure-seeking desires are in control. The spirit is a force of nature, not nurture. With all that said, one must realize that spiritual development is not something that comes when one eliminates animals from the diet. Eliminating the animalistic behaviors […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Riverwest Rising
It’s hard to say where it started. The first “event” could be marked as the racist rally downtown last November. Add to it an undercurrent of widespread frustration stemming from innumerable social ills: a dismal economy; a confusing, seemingly interminable “war on terrorism”; continually decreasing funds for education; a less than successful attempt at welfare reform; long term high unemployment, with hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of Americans having exhausted both benefits and their savings. The list, as they say, goes on and on. In the Riverwest neighborhood, where Vital Source has its offices (as well as sister businesses Bremen Café and The Guardian), signs of unrest have been building over recent months. We’ve come a long way since the early 90s, with areas along Center, Locust and Clarke, as well as pockets throughout the area, blossoming with successful businesses, due in large part to the dedication of early pioneers like Fuel Café and Linneman’s. Home owner occupation is at decades-high levels; property values have (legitimately) increased. Children of all races play along the sidewalks as hipsters, artists and working class Joes walk the streets. Yes, there is crime here. Car break-ins are frequent, as are incidents of burglary and vandalism. But in ever increasing numbers, to the credit of those who won’t be driven “west”, or even east, Riverwesterners are doing what’s required to take Riverwest back from the brink of becoming another urban wasteland statistic. The gauntlet of hate is thrown down. So, as a community, we’ve been collectively horrified over the last several weeks by disturbing events, which, until very recently, have been passed over by both the mainstream media and, if you ask people around here, the serious attention of law enforcement officials. First it was a series of dumpster/garbage can fires set by arsonists with gasoline. Then the now publicized beatings of several residents by groups of youth, often on bicycles. Scean Rose, owner of Riverhorse, a club in the 700 block of E. Center, has reported “frequent” incidents of purse snatchings and worse outside his bar, in plain sight of patrons. In the words of John Mellencamp, it’s hard times for an honest man. People are understandably shaken. And in the midst of the crisis, the gauntlet of hatred has been thrown down. On Saturday, July 12, racist flyers were distributed throughout Riverwest by a group calling itself RAM- the Riverwest Anti-Nigger Movement. The handbill called for “you niggers to vacate all white premises IMMEDIATELY!” There’s more, and it’s even worse. In fact, it’s obscene. It was meant to frighten, to breed hostility and paranoia, to pit neighbor against neighbor. But it has backfired. Riverwest will be walking. And watching. On July 14, two meetings were held. Notice of the first, held at Onopa Brewing Co., spread by word of mouth for less than a day. Over 50 people attended, even though the meeting was held in the afternoon before many people were home from work. It was mostly younger people, and action was […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Jon Anne Willow
"I know what I want to do for the rest of my life."
By John Hughes What do the Pfister, the Milwaukee Athletic Club, Comet and Fuel Cafes, the Hi-Hat, Sanford’s, Trocedaro, St. Bessie’s, The Social, Sol Fire, Sendik’s and the 300 Club at Miller Park all have in common? You might guess, with a group as wide-ranging as that — nothing. But the answer is Wild Flour Bakery, which bakes wholesale for all of the above. Because of that, they all have Greg and Dolly Mertens, the owners of Wild Flour, in common. You might say Greg and Dolly are the leaven in Milwaukee’s yeast. So much the better for us. During a recent visit to the couple’s beautiful, Mayor’s Design Award-winning bakery on 28th and Lincoln, Dolly shows me with beaming pride the stripped original woodwork in the 80 year old shop, the original laminated bread cases, the original tile floor. She shows me the new, hand-built brick oven, which turns 600 pounds of dough into delectables on slow days, 850 pounds on busy ones. She informs me that there are two other bakeries under the Wild Flour name; one in New Berlin, and one baking pastries and croissants at Grand Avenue Mall. She takes me on a tour of her sparkling kitchen, bustling with hard-working Latinos from the neighborhood, and speaks with strength, conviction, and enthusiasm, her brown eyes bright. “Ten years ago I bought a loaf of bread,” she says. “And when I bit into it, I said to my husband, ‘I know what I want to do for the rest of my life.’ He said, ‘what is that?’ I said, ‘be a baker.’ He just said, ‘I’ll support you.’ He’s a honey.” She smiles with megawatt authenticity and leads me back to the front of the store, where employee Rosa is sweeping with vigor and cheer. “I was the 13th of my parents’ 14 kids,” she continues. “And I was raised on a farm in central Wisconsin. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mother. I became an expert dishwasher, I’m great at that. And I learned from my mother the art of sharing. I learned that bread is not so much to feed your belly, but your soul. I learned that when you bake for others, you are sharing not so much food but yourself. And we heal one another through food. So, now I’m doing that, and I love what I do.” Greg is, as Dolly reports, a honey, with an easy smile, gentle voice and approachable spirit. He was one of eight children, but his father died when Greg was 11, and he watched his mother raise the children by herself. He informs me that he decided to marry Dolly when he was 14 and she 13, during the 1950s in rural Wisconsin. The wedding had to wait several years, but they’ve now been married for over three decades. These are people who know the value of hard work and community, pulling together with other “good, honest people” to make something […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
August 2003
Dear Readers, As a community, we love the Harley. Probably more than any otherwise disparate group of mostly non-riders, Milwaukeeans appreciate the growl of the engine, the flash of the chrome and the signature emblem unique to one of our city’s greatest shared treasures. This month marks Harley Davidson’s 100th anniversary, and the party will be long-remembered. We chose to pick a little slice called the Riders Ranch, and tell you all about it. It’s pretty dang cool. Check out the story, and think about heading over. Good seats are still available. Hate has raised its ugly head in Riverwest, but the neighbors are brandishing olive branches and dancing in the streets in answer. See “Riverwest Rising,” this month’s We The People, for more about how this community has come together in the very face of division in its lowest form. This month’s Vital sports several shorter, light reading pieces. If you enjoyed our wine piece last month, check out “Morsels,” Cynthia Vasques’ quest for succulent softshell crabs in landlocked Wisconsin. There’s even a recipe. (We’re not afraid to break the mold that way…) We think you’ll also dig Bill Wandschneider’s piece on con artists, “Slicker than a snake on ice.” He joined a band of them for a weekend, living the life and learning about “the Quickness.” It’s a great story. As we go to press, I am on the way home to Iowa. On July 19th, my grandfather, Russell Rudolph Berard, passed away at the age of 83. The circumstances of his death were sudden and unfortunate, but his legacy to me, and the hundreds of people he quietly helped throughout his life, will live for a very long time. Russ was born to Italian immigrant parents in Des Moines, Iowa. He worked with his hands for the city for most of his life, eventually retiring as a supervisor. For him, this was the beginning of his “real” life in many ways. Uneducated and not exposed to “opportunity” as we know it today, Russ was keenly intelligent, political, and morally outraged at the lack of access to meaningful services suffered by the people with disabilities who fall through the cracks of social services. He spent countless hours — and thousands of his retirement dollars — in the garage workshop of his modest southside ranch home building contraptions to help folks live independently: winches for getting in and out of the shower, mouth-operated wheelchair controls, even a crazy electric leg framework so a young woman suddenly paralyzed from the waist down could walk upright. Some of his inventions were over the top, but all were greatly appreciated. His was a labor of love. He was always there for family and friends. He bailed me out of a number of jams as a rowdy teenager, never spilling the beans to the rest of the family, but “leaving it to me” to “do what (I) know is right” by telling my own parents, at least after the fact. He never judged […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Jon Anne Willow
Dark horse running
By Greg Sampson The end of June was all about Howard Dean. On Sunday, June 22, Dean appeared on Meet the Press, where Tim Russert attacked just about everything about him, from his stance on the war in Iraq to his health care policies to his “evolved” position on the death penalty. The following day he was back in Burlington, Vermont to officially declare his candidacy for the Presidency. The tone of his speech was visionary and thoughtful, surprisingly devoid of much of the confrontational rhetoric for which he had made a name for himself in the previous months. Finally, by the end of the week the Dean campaign announced that it had raised $7.5 million in the second quarter, the most by any candidate, the lion’s share coming through donations on the campaign Web site. Suddenly the press was talking about Dean, turning him overnight from a long shot, dark horse candidate to an insurgent contender who was pushing significant political issues and forcing his competitors to pay attention. Politics at its’ most unpredictable. It was politics at its’ most unpredictable. Beyond the money the campaign raised, there was real energy surrounding Dean himself. While many of his vocal supporters were liberal Democratic activists angry about tax cuts, the pre-emptive war in Iraq, and the Bush administration generally, much of Dean’s buzz was fueled by unaffiliated citizens. They are attracted to him in part because he represented a departure from the detached, politics-as-usual formula that has come to represent national campaigns in the past quarter century. In Dean they see a candidate unafraid to not only go after the policies of the Bush administration, but also the inability of Democrats to challenge those policies or come up with a competing vision of how government should work. Young, white and wired: profile of a Deanophile. One of the most compelling characteristics of the Dean campaign has less to do with the candidate himself than with who is watching him. Dean has been successful at courting the unaffiliated, many of them young and on the Internet. They represent a class of people with financial power and an established (not to mention expansive) community base; a heretofore largely untapped “market” for politicians. In the past, they’ve not been big voters. That may be changing. These people go online and talk about Dean. Through mailing lists, weblogs, or via community Web sites, people are contributing to a discussion about Dean, and to grassroots, Web-based activism. In Dean’s case, this has proven significantly more effective than traditional marketing and campaigning techniques for getting his word out. I have to confess, I fit the profile of a Dean supporter almost to a tee. My professional and personal life is tied to the Web. I care about politics in this country, but feel disenfranchised by the detached, insular behavior common amongst politicians, who court special interests and narrow constituencies at the expense of the will of the society they ostensibly serve. I am more likely to […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Breast is not "best." It’s standard.
By Lucky Tomaszek The first week in August is World Breastfeeding Week, and several international organizations invest lots of time and money into raising the world community’s understanding of the importance of breastfeeding for mothers and babies all over the globe. The decision of how to feed your baby is a deeply personal one, and often starts heated debates. It’s one of the first decisions you will make for your baby and it’s one that most expectant moms spend quite a bit of time reading and thinking about. I want to be clear that it’s not ever my intention to hurt the feelings of any other mother out there, or to anger anyone who has made different choices. I hold the firm belief in my heart that each mother has made the best decision possible for her child with the information she had at the time and based on what she feels will work best for her and her family. Not “best,” standard. The statement “breast is best” is one we’ve all heard for years. It’s in every parenting book, every magazine article about infant feeding and every commercial for baby formula. It’s often accompanied by the statement, “breast milk is a perfect food.” These are very drastic overstatements of fact. I’m going to let you in on a little secret: Breast isn’t best, it’s standard. We were designed as a species to feed our young milk from our breasts. It’s how we got our name, Mammal, from the mammary glands. There are other unique things about Mammals we could have been named for. For instance, we are the only species with hair, and the only species that gives birth to live babies. But it’s our mammaries for which we’re famous. That’s because universally, mammals nourish their babies with breast milk. When you say “breast is best” or “breast milk is a perfect food,” it leaves a lot of room for other things to be good or even great, because perfection is an unobtainable goal. Everyone knows the saying, ‘nobody’s perfect.’ But when we are honest and we say that breast milk is the standard food, it becomes obvious that artificial baby milk is substandard. It’s perfectly logical. The same logic follows for the other benefits of breastfeeding. We are often told that breastfed babies are healthier than their formula fed counterparts. This is another statement that should be turned around. If breastfeeding is the standard, then the babies who are breastfed are not healthier, but simply the standard of health. And so it follows that their formula-fed counterparts (like me) are not as healthy. Think of other, similar statements we hear all the time. Breastfed babies are smarter, talk earlier, need less orthodontic work and have fewer allergies. The list goes on. The logic is easy to follow. Obviously, breastfeeding is not just the standard for babies, but for their mothers as well. We have seen a marked increase in female cancers, heart disease in women, and osteoporosis since […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Lucky Tomaszek
Morsels
By Cynthia Vasques It has always amazed me that human beings can consume just about anything that crawls or oozes out of the earth. Who was that first prehistoric homo sapiens who picked up a disgusting snail and said to himself, “Mmmm, yummy- looking?” Or perhaps it was a Cro-Magnon future Frenchman who said the equivalent of “Zoot alors, I’ll eat ‘zis thing!” I had always felt somewhat ill at ease when faced with eating something whose legs were arranged on the plate and whose eyes were staring blankly upward, so I therefore had never experienced the exquisite crunch of soft shell crabs sautéed to perfection until our family moved to Milwaukee, where I became completely obsessive about these seasonal tidbits. My husband, the inveterate fly fisherman, has always been able to eat anything that swims including sea urchin, so I really had never counted on liking soft shells even though he had often tried to foist them upon me. So, it was a great shock to find myself ordering them for the first time at River Lane Inn, a long-established scion of seafood located in Brown Deer. Fran, the effervescent hostess who we have now spent seven years getting to know and adore, encouraged the choice that started my ensuing obsession. Since that first taste of crunchy, delicate shell releasing a burst of juicy flavor, I cannot get enough of these crabby little morsels. We have ordered them several different ways from creative chef JoLinda Klopp of River Lane Inn this season. In four recent visits she featured them Cajun-style, which packed a real wallop! Everyone at the table was wowed by them, but I felt the preparation over-powered their delicate flavor so I opted to have them sautéed them in a lemon beurre-blanc, a more classic way and my particular favorite. We have always counted on both of Jim Marx’ marvelous restaurants for our yearly fix of soft shells, and recently chef Thomas Peschong of Riversite in Mequon obliged us withhis unique talents, presenting us with impeccable soft shells. Thomas has been creating exceptional seafood dishes using only the finest ingredients for nearly 13 years at Riversite, and shows no signs of depleting his treasure chest of ideas. He and owner Jim Marx are responsible for some Milwaukee’s most creative pairings of exotic tastes in food and wine, and host frequent wine-tasting dinners. Next season we will be back in hot pursuit of the succulent softshells and other flavors to pass on to you. This recipe is one of Thomas Peshong’s simple favorites to try with your own frying pan! “Maryland” softshell crabs 6 live jumbo softshell crabs 1/2 cup seasoned flour* Peanut oil or olive oil for frying 1 shallot, peeled and diced 3 Tbsp. lemon juice 3 Tbsp. capers (nonpariels) 3 Tbsp. dry white wine 4 oz. (1 stick) salted butter, chilled and cut into patties salt & pepper Clean the crabs by snipping off the eyes, lifting the back flaps over the bodies and removing […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Hog Heaven
By Frizell Bailey This August, Harley Davidson riders from all over the country and around the world will rumble into Milwaukee for the Harley Davidson 100th anniversary celebration. For three action-packed (and very loud) days, from August 28 — 30, folks who have a talent for advanced planning will descend on the Summerfest grounds for an orgy of Hog-style entertainment, including concerts by Montgomery Gentry, Peter Frampton, Steppenwolf and Kansas; custom and antique bike exhibits; the Harley-Davidson workforce exhibit; stunt and drill team performances; a cornucopia of summertime food and drink; fireworks of the sort that keep Milwaukee famous, and “much more” (according to Harley’s website). Again, that’s for those who just can’t sleep at night until they have dotted and crossed their vacation i’s and t’s. Ticket packages are long sold out, and only a limited number of single day passes will be available at the gate. Same goes for hotel rooms. Long, long gone. So what’s left for the “free spirits” that once epitomized Harley culture? Where do you go when you want to witness the majesty of the centennial celebration, without the pre-packaged, pre-planning mentality so common in modern times? Although the profile of the Harley Rider has changed dramatically since Easy Rider (no need to expand on this, everyone knows that acid-loving road warriors have been largely replaced by the Titanium AmEx set), there are still remnants of the spontaneous spirit that once characterized hog riders. For a taste, grab your leather vest and head on down to the Rider’s Ranch. Brian Lash, CEO of Target Sport and proprietor of the Ranch, says that Rider’s Ranch visitors are not only last minute, but also interested in staying in a friendly environment with other riders. “Our attendee is someone who appreciates the outdoors and wants to experience the camaraderie the Ranch offers.” Come for the bikes, stay for the party. Diane Bozeicizich, housing finder with Mega Housing, a reservation service partnering with Target Sport, agrees with this assessment. “It will appeal to riders because it’s less expensive and because of the party atmosphere.” It’s that festive air that makes the Riders Ranch a destination of choice, but the sprawling campground cum three ring circus was born out of need. The Ranch was first conceived in 1997 when Harley Davidson became aware that every hotel room in the Milwaukee area was booked. Under pressure from Harley riders who could not get accommodations, Harley contacted Target Special Events, a Boston-based firm that has helped to organize events such as the two Woodstock concerts in the 90s and the Atlanta and Salt Lake City Olympic Games. According to Lash, the 95th anniversary Riders Ranch went off without a hitch. “We did not have a single complaint to us or Harley, and we had over 20,000 visitors.” Lash says that they expect to be at full capacity for the 100th anniversary celebration, and anticipate 45,000 visitors over the course of the three-day event. Life at “The Ranch.” For all its air […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Frizell Bailey
Slicker than a snake on ice.
By Bill Wandschneider I think the first American flag was perfect. You know, the one with a snake on it. And the reason, to me, is that we seem to love the con artist. Our CEOs are often in the news for doing something delightfully sleazy. We live in a country rich in unsavory history. Snake oil salesmen, carpetbaggers, swamp land scams, gold mine speculation and stock market manipulation. I think con artists are at least as entertaining as anything on TV. They used to be called flim flam men. I spent the fourth of July with a band of them. They didn’t really break any laws, they just sold a bunch of junk. Things like silly string, blow up Sponge Bobs, beads and other trinkets of no real monetary value. And in observing their success, I’d say it seems we love to celebrate our freedom by giving money to con men. The greatest show on earth. I ran into them while walking past a park on the third of July. I decided to see if they’d hire me. I asked the guy who seemed to be in charge if they were taking anyone on. He said “yes.” I asked if they were carnival people. “No,” he replied, “we have all of our teeth and we aren’t running from the law.” Then he asked if I had a social security number and some ID. When I told him I did, he hired me on the spot. That’s when the show started for me. It was fascinating. The more I learned about these guys and their lifestyle, the more interesting things got. They have a culture of their own, including their own vernacular. It’s part Cajun, part Ebonics, part broken English and a smattering of Spanish patois. Their norms are a bit wild, but perhaps more of a mirror on the “straight” world than we’d like to acknowledge. Stealing from each other is acceptable and expected. Their worth or status amongst their peers is rooted in their ability to skillfully lie to, con and manipulate unsuspecting consumers. In other words, the best hustler has the most status. They almost never wear shirts. They flirt with every woman they see. They’re drunk almost all of the time. Nights in jail and fist fighting are just part of their routine. Not having a permanent residence doesn’t seem to bother them at all. They’re about as scrappy as could be, and seem to have an unshakable confidence. The operator and the Quickness. A hustler’s job exists in two parts: decorating the booth with items to sell, and actually selling the items. The first is called “flashing your booth.” Flashing is hard to do. It’s a real skill. The second part of the job is the selling. That’s where these people are amazing. They mix with ease equal parts psychology, pressure and indifference. In a different world, where only skills mattered, operators would make powerful floor traders. I watched one of them in action. A […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
public art or urban eyesore?
By Raymond Johnson One of the happiest developments in recent years is the explosion of sidewalk seating at restaurants and cafés in Milwaukee. It signals a renewed commitment to public life, or at least as close as we are able to achieve it in an age in which we are always and everywhere shopping. It seems nearly every establishment that is able has put a few tables out, even the Famous Cigar Shop on Brady St., so that smokers can enjoy their purchases immediately. Brady, perhaps the city’s most public street, has been literally transformed in recent years by the number of establishments with sidewalk seating. All this sidewalk seating, however, is not without drawbacks. The placement of private seating on sidewalks in part co-opts the public realm. Restaurants and cafés with seating on the sidewalk are making money in this public space. Such taking demands something be given back, a responsibility too few uphold. With great seating comes great responsibility. First and foremost amongst these is a requirement to keep the sidewalk passable. Legally, sidewalk seating may not encroach upon a wheelchair user, whose right to sidewalk use is unquestioned. Additionally, seating should allow for the passage of two people shoulder to shoulder holding hands. This distance, four to five feet, is about the width of a residential sidewalk. Couples shouldn’t have to break handholding to bypass outdoor grazers. That on too many of Milwaukee’s commercial streets (Kinnickinnic Av., Center St., Water St.) this would be nearly impossible, signals dysfunctional urban design. Recent violators have included Rock Bottom Brewery on the Riverwalk and Hooligan’s on North Ave. Rock Bottom has been the most serious offendor. In the past, it has placed tables along the narrow right of way east of the restaurant’s parking lot, although this practice seems to have stopped. Rock Bottom still packs its tables onto their main Riverwalk space, blurring the public passage and making those strolling by feeling as if they are walking through a dining room rather than on a sidewalk. Hooligan’s infringements have been less premeditated. Some days there is plenty of space, others not enough even for wheelchair users. Of course it is not only the establishments that are responsible for maintaining the public way. All of us who enjoy outdoor seating must remain cognizant of the amount of space we leave to passersby. This is simply a requirement of living in and using a dense urban environment. The other primary responsibility placed upon establishments utilizing sidewalk seating is aesthetic. Many establishments treat this public responsibility callously. They have simply gone to the local hardware store and purchased the ubiquitous plastic chairs and tables found on every backyard deck from New Berlin to Menomonee Falls. They are fine for that use, but inappropriate for urban sidewalks. There are too many of these places to mention them all. Sidewalk seating as public art. Others are trying harder. Hartter’s Bakery on Prospect Ave., and Cempazuchi’s and on Brady St. feature colored translucent resin slat […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Cherrywine is (Almost) Fine
Cherrywine is (almost) fine. Hey, I just wanted to let you know that there is a typo in the last line (from June Record Reviews). It should read, “Bright Black is AN excellent debut album…” Other than that, it is an excellent review. -Thanks, Amy Redevelopment: a tough topic. Dear Matt & Jon Anne, I have been meaning to write a note of appreciation for your June Developing City article on Walker’s Point re: artists, “gentrification,” etc. I thought it was a good piece, but I see you got some heat from one reader. She made some good points and posed some good questions. It’s a tough topic to do justice to all sides — the pros and cons of redevelopment, revanchist city neighborhoods, etc. Keep going for it though. -Best, Dan Knauss Kiteboarding is cool. Dear Vital, Thanks for the excellent piece on kiteboarding in the June issue. While it’s true that Milwaukee’s little stretch of Lake Michigan ain’t the best for boarding, there are many up and coming spots within a few hours drive. Thanks for taking the time to mention them, and for going straight to the horse’s mouth: Corey Roesler is the godfather of the sport, and no true kiteboarding overview would be complete without him. -Sincerely, Mark Naumansch A deeper understanding of Israel. James A. Henderson’s anti-Israel diatribe in the July Vital Source should not go unanswered. Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and Gaza is not “illegal.” These areas were taken by the Israeli armed forces in 1967, during a war of defense that was imposed on it by the Arabs under the leadership of Egyptian President Nasser. The Arabs were not fighting on behalf of the Palestinian people, but rather to end the State of Israel, as they stated very openly. The capture of these territories was not part of Israel’s initial war plan, which was merely to end the immediate threat to its existence. However, it was hoped that the territories would provide a buffer from future attacks until peace treaties could be signed, and would in fact be traded as part of a land-for-peace settlement. That is exactly what happened in the treaty signed with Egypt in 1978. Except for a very radical fringe, Israelis of every stripe are willing to see the creation of an independent Palestinian state as long as Israel’s security can be guaranteed. One can question the vigor with which the current government has pursued this, but there is no question that it is Arab rejectionism — once again — which has been the main stumbling block, most recently at Camp David in 2000. Israel’s military actions in the West Bank and Gaza have been reactions to attacks on its citizens, and while Palestinians have died, Israel has not targeted innocent civilians. By contrast, that is precisely the tactic that Hamas, Islamic Jihad, Fatah and other Palestinian organizations have followed. “Killing and slaughter, violence and carnage” are not Israeli policy. Perhaps the apparent silence of the peace […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
The Pernice Brothers, The Decemberists, The New Pornographers
By Jeremy Saperstein The Pernice Brothers Yours, Mine and Ours Ashmont Records www.pernicebrothers.com The Decemberists Castaways and Cutouts Kill Rock Stars www.decemberists.com The New Pornographers Electric Version Matador www.matadorrecords.com A long time ago, in a galaxy far away (well, suburban Chicago, anyway — which is like another galaxy), I bachelor-roomed in a worn old bungalow with this guy whose behind-his-back nickname was “Mr. Negativity.” Being as we were both single, disaffected twenty-somethings, our weekends usually revolved around thirty-packs of watery domestics and slices of pizza to go, consumed voraciously in front of a silent television. Ah, youth! We would listen to favored records while we ate and drank and watched the silent moving pictures. I was taking off a record, probably the Beatles, when he slurred, “That’s great stuff, but let’s face it — guitar-based rock is dead.” We were young and single and drunk, so this led to a lengthy and intricate argument, of which I can thankfully remember little but my housemate’s central point. Time has passed now, though, and I haven’t seen or spoken to said housemate since before Britney Spears came on the scene (or since Tiffany left it, for that matter). And the guitar-based hits just keep coming. Three records came across my desk this month, which I’d love an opportunity to use as evidence (or a blunt object) against Mr. Negativity if that argument is ever renewed. The first sneaks into the new release reviews section despite the fact that it was initially released back in summer of 2002 by the ultra-indie Hush label. Happily, it’s being re-released this summer by slightly larger and better-distributed Kill Rock Stars. If this was a just planet, Castaways and Cutouts by the Decemberists would be the sort of record that VH1 specials are made about — y’know, like “…the story behind the classic release that was the soundtrack to our lives…” I find myself waking up in the middle of the night with the lines from “Leslie Anne Levine” — easily one of the saddest lyrics I’ve ever heard, twisted up in a charming, accordion-fueled pop tune — going through my head. Lines like “My name is Leslie Anne Levine/My mother birthed me down a dry ravine/My mother birthed me far too soon/Born at nine, dead at noon.” Equally sad lyrically and utterly pop musically is Yours, Mine and Ours by the Pernice Brothers. Pernice’s previous band, the alt-country Scud Mountain Boys, performed their languid songs onstage while sitting around a kitchen table, as if performances were late-night song-swapping sessions that the audience had stumbled across. Songs from the Pernice Brothers (and Pernice’s solo releases, for that matter) tend more towards energetic and perfect guitar pop, with Pernice’s angelic vocals and sharp-tongued lyrics (“I hope that this letter finds you crying/It would feel so good to see you cry” from Number Two) rising above impeccable arrangements. Electric Version by The New Pornographers is the final entry in this triumvirate of exciting new guitar-based releases, a case of […]
Aug 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
