Saturday is April Fools Day. However, this is not a blog where I make anything up. Last night, I went to bed as soon as I could after work. I believe that it paid off, as I awoke with enough sleep felling as though I want to get out on the bike. The bike is not an option when, in search of having enough sleep, I accept a ride from my boss to work during open to close shifts. As I can sleep later, even a couple of hours. And I prefer not to ride in precipitation. But it hardly stops me, unless the city is covered in ice. And if you travel far enough south in this metro area, you will find
no crosstown bus service during the weekend. The train will shoot you many places now throughout said area, and even all the way to the airport. But once you step out of the train car, it either a bus, your feet, or your bike. But I heard my chain squeaking earlier this week. And the front tire needs air. After both issues are taken care of, and after closing my front door, I must reenter to replace the valve cap I left inside. I am then out on the dark and quiet streets of my neighborhood at 5:15 AM. You can be sure that they won't stay this way, but for now it's an intimate place with one lone rider. I forget that, on the route I am taking (the shortest from home to the train) I must ascend a mud patch at the top of a hill. It's an underpass under construction. I don't know if the zone is open to pedestrian and bicycle traffic, but concrete berms delineate a path to the closed side of the avenue. At the station, some guy shadows me on the platform. I wonder why passengers on the trains stare at me before I remember that I am in a camouflaged poncho. I suppose that they don't shop at Army/Navy Surplus. I've been going on and off, to the store I've been working at during the end of this week, many times over the past twelve years. And I've been going by train. Without a bus transfer, travel by train used to be weighed by zone. That is to say, prices varied depending which zone you got on the train and which one you got out, and more specifically the distance between these. I'm going to the end of the line, which from this station fell into the zones of furthest distance between each. This morning, it appears to be more simple. I may purchase a "local" ticket or a "regional' one. I opt for the most expensive round trip option in my attempt to cover the most bases. Yet, it's lest up to the passenger to figure it out. The metro transit system may in fact announce all of the changes it makes. It may even do so in some detail. If so, in my twenty-six years in this city, I have never discovered where this information is posted. Which is too bad, because the city transit system has recently made improvements which not only make it easier to comprehend what you need to get where you want to go, but they have extended their bus transfers to stay valid from two hours to three. Having said all this, the simple truth is that after I disembark at the end of this line, I have a beautiful snow-frosted ride.
...Denver photographer Terry Ratzlaff tries to bring attention to...the more unsavory elements of life...
in the Mile High City, it's challenging to know whom to cast your anger toward, because there's a diverse economy with a growing number of jobs in management, health care, and professional business services. Gentrification in Denver is a time bomb... ...solution for solving the city's housing shortage...companies building their own housing.
...The Harm Reduction Action Center in downtown Denver [is a place I walked past a couple of times with my sister on the way to lunch earlier this year, wondering what it is.]
... HRAC's 37-year-old director... In nearly eight years running HRAC, she has developed an unusual consortium of pushers, cops, drug users, and politicians... About 150 people funnel through the office every morning - from homeless users to white-collar workers...one of nearly 200 nationally... In her office...has banned words like "dirty," "clean," and "addict"... ...a cartel shipping heroin, cocaine, and methamphetamine from Mexico. ...through Pueblo and Colorado Springs to Denver...to be used by everyone from homeless men to soccer moms. Jesse gets his black tar [heroin]
from a Mexican middleman. His heroin is "the best in the city," he brags. "My shit will kill you." A vast majority of the heroin in Denver is black tar and comes primarily from the Sinaloa Cartel in Mexico. Among his clients, he says, are lawyers and teachers. He claims he's sold to a television journalist. Stacy was never sober enough to attend her kids' school functions. ...she'd sometimes walk out the door and disappear for weeks. She didn't remember birthdays. When her son...died by suicide in 2008, she didn't attend the funeral. When she turned 18, Brittany left her home in Littleton for Colorado State University: she was forced to drop out when she couldn't get financial aid because her parents hadn't paid taxes in years. ...pursued...political science... ...decided to run for office. ...not all of her political colleagues know her past. If they...met her mother...Brittany's not sure how she would explain the situation. She has trouble explaining it to herself. "I don't know if she's purposefully lying or if she's making up her own reality, or if that's how she's really remembering things," she says. Brittany has hardly ever mentioned her accomplishments as a legislator to her mother. ...her spot. ...the new Democratic whip... ...in 1996, Purdue Pharma released OxyContin. ...well-meaning men and women were getting hooked on opioids. ...the prescription drugs reconstruct neural pathways, warping boundaries between actual pain relief and full-blown addiction. "I got into this profession to help others... I was personally responsible for giving people lifelong addictions." "There's no quick fix when your brain gets damaged this way." Private insurers began to crack down on prescriptions over the past decade... ...painkillers became more expensive on the black market. ..."we potentially had thousands of people across Colorado ripe for heroin addiction." ...cartels in Mexico ramped up production of black tar heroin... ...the list of heroin-overdose deaths in Denver from the past 10 months. ...where the overdoses happened, where bodies were found. An apartment. A 7-Eleven restroom. A bus stop. A sidewalk. A stairwell. A park. A creek. A car. - 5280, 4/2017
To Rest
The A & D Motel on West Colfax. Mental Health Center voucher. Torn up carpet. Small fridge.
...the old woman running the place, implying I broke the toilet - "She's mental," she says...
Ground Into Dust
Sick sensation in my gut...hungry and scared...Just a few weeks...I can hang...
I smell awful...How do they do it? I have a family that loves me...but I'd rather be dead...
No...I'm still alive...Commitment to time...my job stolen from me...Such a freak...
My way back home...Time to wait...but so will the tears...Safe...Safe...Safe...
Safe eventually...Gone...Space occupied...Compassion died...To reap the fruits of labor...
stripped of the chance to work...Back to the hospital...my way back home...Time to wait...
but so will the tears...Hope...Pain...All the same...What happened to my name?
Ground into dust...Must I try? Ground into dust...Goodbye... - Denver Voice, 4/2017
...a series of efforts the city has taken in recent years to address the public safety issues related to the day laborers who congregate each morning...to find part-time work. For more than a decade, dozens of people, mostly men...darting across the thoroughfare ...and relieving themselves in alleys. To address those issues, the city purchased the...small building - formerly a Nepali bodega...a more amenable spot for workers to gather. The city...has put about $100,000 of repair work into the small structure... ...initially...the intent was to...hand off the management...to a local nonprofit...El Cenrto Humanitario... [A city council person]
said she would personally be interested in leading a civics class there. [She]
said no matter what happens during the lot's stint as a day laborer haven, the parking lot will eventually serve as a much needed parking lot for the arts district in the future. - Aurora Sentinel, 4/6-12/2017
I needed to get out of this really high-stress environment of college and running in Division 1. I moved to a tiny village in the middle of nowhere and showered out of a bucket for a year, removed from everything I knew that was normal. I quickly realized how lucky I was... I was stripped raw from a human standpoint ...opportunities to do more badass running-related philanthropy trips are huge for me. I want to find a voice. ...different from this elite ultra-runner voice.... - Elevation Outdoors, 4/2017
...they introduce new drinkers to beverage [sic]
as well as providing quality refreshment to their loyal fan base. ...has become the number one selling flavored malt beverage nationally in convenience stores. ...the beverage landscape has changed and become more competitive. "There are...countless beverage profiles..." To bring the NASCAR experience to their drinkers...has a sweepstakes...where you and 3 friends...have your own personal pit BBQ master prepare all your meals. - Rally News, vol. XXV, no. 1, 2017
Sunday. I'm out of the gym sometime after 11 AM. On the way to the bus stop, I see small clumps of neighborhood Caucasian residents gathered at random points along the sidewalk. They are just out of the nearby church and many have a big bible in an arm. Across the avenue, a couple of women wait to cross at the light, along with the pastor. I get the sense that they consider it a privilege as thre three proudly stroll to the other side, the tall pastor maintaining exemplary posture. Apart from this neighborhood congregation is the guy at the bus stop. In his cap and zippered sweatshirt, and comb in his back pocket, he mumbles to himself as he sorts change for the bus. He mumbles that he's skipping out on lunches. He wants a potato. "C'mon (bus) let's get going," he mumbles.. My transfer is good for another twenty minutes. I had breakfast at a decent hour before coming out here, and I may as well have lunch before grocery shopping. Today is the first day I can remember ever running into anyone drunk at the freaking supermarket. Where was this guy yesterday, on April Fools Day? He's a day late and some brain cells short. He's a little, pudgy guy with his hand in a cast. He wanders up from behind me, singing some song about running. He explains in a weak voice that his injury happened because he was running. He weakly points to his cast. I watch him as he heads toward the doors to where the deliveries come in, and where the rest rooms are. He turns to give me some kind of inebriated smile. When I have my groceries, I am on a bus home. Today must be Drunks' Day. A drunk passenger is picking fights. A woman gets out with her kids as she verbally spars with the drunk ("She's trying to fight me with my kids," she tells the driver), and the drunk ends up spraying mace in back. People begin choking but I don't smell anything. The bus isn't going anywhere and I haul out my heavy box of groceries. I don't realize that I leave my knit cap on the mace bus. A toothless guy with three small dogs on leashes sat across from me. While I am at the next stop, waiting for another bus, he comes along and hands it to be. The next bus pulls up, and I am waiting to get on board, in line behind a guy with one shoe on. On the short ride to my stop, he keeps repeating, "Fuck!" He's a young guy. Before we boarded this bus, someone at the stop asked him what the matter is. "I lost my woman," he replies. I wonder if 'his woman' is the one who walked off without him after fucking spraying mace inside of a city bus. When I get home, I read online that a crash happened a couple blocks from my home, at 4:15 AM this morning. I see a photo of an upside down SUV which appears as if it was T-boned. I don't see how this vehicle could have ended up like this unless it was hit by some racing at top speed. The crash killed one person in the vehicle. As I head out for dinner, I pass some friends and a young adult neighbor in my townhome complex. They are hanging out with their vehicles, smiling and laughing, one guy swinging his keys on a long chain. They look like they are anticipating an evening of motor sport activity on these neighborhood streets. I want to ask them if they knew someone died in a crash some yards away. Somehow, it's the cars on the street which are not street racing that end up being folded in half, and those who don't race bu rather raise families who end up dead.
Vera Wang and Humpty Dumpty Stuck to My Shit
Monday. I awake with only four hours of sleep. After a half hour I decide that I am not getting back to sleep. I get up and spend the next nine hours getting some stuff done around the place. Then I am out the door and up the street to my old deathburger, to grab a late lunch to conform to my new diet. After I place my order, in comes four Caucasian women and teenagers. The mom asks me if I am "on line?" I suppose I am off line. I notice that her teenage daughter is wearing a skirt and women's dress shoes. A chatty female customer comes over. With her hair in braids, she looks like Pippi Longstocking, She approaches the mom and makes a big deal about how nice her winter coat looks. "It's Vera Wang," replies the mom. This deathburger remodeled this year or last. I think my neighborhood has just seen its first Vera Wang coat. I'm out of there and hustling to catch the bus which is here. When it brings us to the train station, we pile out, including a girl with a big yellow balloon which looks like Humpty Dumpty. I hear her say, "I got a balloon stuck to my shit." I am told that I have the following two days off. On Tuesday, around 9:30 AM, I'm at the bus stop in front of the supermarket. Tiny flakes of snow are coming down. Who comes along the sidewalk but the singing drunk from Sunday. He asks another guy in the shelter with me what time it is.
...the French (of the governing class) had...ambitions...to assist the Tunisians...very gradually...to self-government. The French are proud of their accomplishments in Tunisia since...their occupation was legalized. ...announced in late 1953 that full "internal" autonomy for Tunisia was the eventual aim of French policy. ...otherwise it could too easily go the way of Indochina. Many Tunisian nationalists are Paris-educated... They speak French among themselves...have close intellectual ties to Egypt, and..dismiss as..."savage"...think of fellow nationalists in Morocco or Algeria as hopelessly "feudal" or "bourgeois," and indeed...are more...mature than Moroccans. There has never been a general election in Tunisia. ...civil liberties are unknown. Martial law has been in force sine World War II. There is no freedom of the press, or of speech or assembly. There are...6,000 political prisoners in Sahara concentration camps...without any process of law... ...an African nationalist...like Ho Chi Minh...qualities are...what might be expected. He is an intellectual and...an...inflammatory mass orator. ...anti-communist, and would like to be a friend of the West. ...responsible rather than extreme nationalist point of view. In 1954...the rector of...one of the supreme institutions in the Moslem world, issued a statement...appealing to Moslems everywhere to boycott France...and to raise funds for their oppressed brethren in North Africa.
Libya, this child learning to walk...has three foster parents - Great Britain, the United States and the United Nations... It has Idris, the newest king in the world. ...the United States maintains an important airbase near Tripoli... Libya is the first nation ever put on its feet...by the UN. IT is a test case...of how well a new nationalism can work. ...Marshal Giaziani...grabbing a local Sheikh, taking him up in an airplane...a placard tied around his neck, and pitching him alive - on whatever village...in need of "pacification." ...Mussolini...wanted to re-create a Roman Africa. ...he had to...try to win Arab goodwill. He built up "Arab-Faciest" formations, and boasted that he would be a "father" to Islam. ...when old fashioned colonial policies were still considered to be respectable, and when nobody dreamed than an educated African could be anything but a marionette or tool. ...if Italy had an outright colony. There is no reason to think that its administration would not be enlightened. It seemed fantastic that the UN would want to give part of Libya back to the "Italians," the beaten enemy. ...the scheme was defeated by only one vote. ...people became bored with the topic. - Gunther
...the ECDC African Community Center (ACC), a refugee settlement organization... In late January, there was a bomb threat at ACC's youth program site in Aurora. South High School...is the DPS magnet high school for refugees. ...over 65 languages are spoken at the school. "...incidents...of hate...have happened to them on public buses and other places... ...we had to have a number of mental health counselors come to school to work with students who were upset." Mayor Hancock...visited the school...in order to reassure students and staff. DPS has also established a district-wide protocol outlining policies and procedures if immigration officials show up looking for a student." ...Somali...seniors at South...had very minimal education...living in refugee camps in Africa... Sophomore...from Iraq... ...her father's friend was killed by the Iraqi army... All three women ride RTD buses 45-60 minutes each way to school. - the profile, 4/2017
...what is this whole American thing? The first is heritage...American history. It might be the thirteen colonies, Native American history... ...Colorado heritage... ...trying to define Colorado. The next...is seasonal and regional... The third is relationships. farm-to-table is dead. People finally realized that everything comes from a farm... ...they intersect at preservation - we're preserving American food heritage. - Westword, 4/6-12?2017
...he takes his food to Urban Peak...and cooks a meal for homeless youth. ...also hosts a men's group titled Men's Struggles. The group creates a space where he can break down the construct of masculinity and allow men to let out what they may not in other company. - Denver Herald, 4/6/2017
Wednesday. On my way to replace a bike wheel tire and tube. It went flat yesterday afternoon on the way back from renewing my drivers license. I stop for breakfast along the way. I sit across from a guy with "Flooring Mafia" embroidered on his cap and the side of his hoodie. Between here and the train station, the entire street is under construction. By the time the next bus comes along, I will probably be at the train station. During my hike to the train, I pass a corner where a construction guy is directing traffic. He says to me, "Sir, it appears you dropped your smile back there..." He strikes me as a 21st century neo-hippie, working a temp job for the establishment. I proceed without "my" smile.
Last year...DINK, the largest independent comics convention in Denver history, was in full swing... "The first thing I reacted to was the people around me. There was this euphoric sense. There was this energy." ...when "Star Wars'"came along in 1977. "It was huge. It legitimized all the science fiction...that people considered fringe... ...the landscape o Thornton, Colorado...we very much had to turn inward to find that creative energy. ...you had to work for your nerd fix..." "...I would always go to Rexall Drugs to buy comics. We would walk up 88th Avenue... We would have shit thrown at us from cars. Someone threw a full beer can at us once. Beer was all over my back." ...when the church closed its school, they were forced to transfer... "At public school, they had drama, they had music. They had all these things that Catholic school didn't support." When...arts programs were in danger of being reduced... He formed a committee and went door to door collecting signatures. They won. "If he hadn't done that, I wouldn't have had the artistic experience I had in high school." "I think the sense of irreverence was a reaction to...a very reverent environment in Catholic school." In 1981, the Colorado Comic Art Convention was launched. ...helping solidify the emerging fan scene in the area. ...in 1985... He studied art, but was frustrated by the department's resistance at the time to teaching comic-book art. ...in 2006... Denver was no longer the Cowtown of their youth; it was becoming a cultural hot spot and an attractive base for creatives. The film "Iron Man"...released in '08, kicking off the Marvel Cinematic Universe in earnest...generative...acceptance...surrounding geek culture. "DINK emerged when we realized that Denver needs a new platform...independent creativity and innovation... We were inspired by ...the punk-rock ideology here in Denver. " Along with...Mutiny Information café,...Nerd Nite Denver... "That's what I needed, that reminder from the people." ...forged partnerships with...the Denver Zine Library. "Every show has to have its own identity and energy and vibe." - Westword, 4/6-12/2017
Friday. The bus home, after work, is ten minutes late. At the gate is a guy who is coughing non-stop. His pants are falling down, and his T-shirt has a hole a foot in diameter. The result is that it's obvious that he's not wearing underwear. In his defense, he probably owns none. The bus pulls up, he gets on, and must dig in his pockets for change while holding his pants up. He continues to cough as he juggles holding his pants and searching for bus fare. Another guy pays his fare and moves around him. The other guy yells, "Cover your mouth! Cover your mouth!" before taking a seat in back. The other guy continues to mock him. He does not respond to the other guy. Instead, he takes a seat himself and begins talking to himself. We circle through a neighborhood in the dark. A passenger behind me speaks to the driver in a voice like a sea lion. "Uh. Uh.. Hey bus driver can I get off right here?" Saturday. 6 AM. Train platform. No sleep? Too bad. The cross town buses far enough south don't run on the weekend. And I'm working far enough south. And it's the weekend. Ready or not, I'm out on the bike. I sit next to someone eating something out of a bag. He asks me if I want any candy. A mole sent by my doctor to see if I am on my diet?
Sunday. After two days at work without enough sleep, I had a good one last night. Which means that I am getting a late start this morning. At 11 AM, I'm at a stop for the bus to the gym. Along comes strolling a guy in a black hoodie with a grey crew cut. His mobile device is playing out loud some kind of 1970s folk/rock ballad. He's handing out I know not what, probably some kind of digitally-made card which wouldn't surprise me if at first glance appears to be an ad for a tattoo parlor, but is actually an invitation to church. He's asking us if we would "like an invitation to church?" A woman in a wheelchair takes one. At the gym is a guy with a mug of beer, complete with foam, embroidered on each of his socks. Some time after noon I'm out of the gym and walking up the sidewalk. People are walking home after church. Coming toward me is a guy in a hoodie and shorts which both are camouflaged for hunting. On the front of his hoodie is "John Deere." On the way to the gym, I passed a driveway where a couple of small kids were riding their bikes around the vehicle parked there. Each had a helmet with a mohawk running along the top from front to back. On the way back, they are now throwing a rubber ball back and forth with their dad. It bounces into the street, and in a vision of classic suburban tranquility, traffic slows to a halt. The dad waves. He looks like a dad from the Lifetime Channel, flannel shirt over a T-shirt, beard and cap. At the corner, navigating the churchgoers, are a trio of teenagers on bicycles. The tallest has shaggy hair and a fractal tie-dyed hoodie. An hour and a half later, I'm out of the supermarket. A guy with a flat face and a five o' clock shadow is in a camouflaged jacket and has a US Army backpack. He's telling customers the exact same line, that he needs "a dollar to get to work."
...the King of Libya...he asked us - with a bright gleam - why we worked so hard to liberate countries behind the Iron Curtain, which would probably turn out to be enemies no matter what... ...the Senussis. ...are Muslim reformists who want to return to the original hard-and-fast purity of Islam. The movement...by the end of the nineteenth century...had established..."a theocratic empire," spilling over political frontiers. ..continued to maintain their cohesion and identity... The "zawias" are a combination of town hall and seminary, where the teachings of the fraternity are kept alive... The point of issue was whether Libya should be...an old-style theocratic state...or...with the king governing within...the Federal Constitution. For thirty years or more the struggle in Egypt was triple - between the British, the palace, and the Wafd (nationalist party). The 1952 "coup d' etat" cut across all three... What holds it up mainly is the army and the "street"...the people at large, the masses, the mob. Nasser has to keep feeding it. ...Nasser's. ...chief source of power is that he stands for...the liberation and advancement of the masses. ...Nasser wants above all to bridge the yawning, desolate gap between rich and poor. ...Nasser and his men never cease to think in terms of future long-range economic development, so that the standard of living of the masses as a whole may be raised. "...just as in the Balkans in the old days, they will become postal clerks and then revolutionaries. ...a "half-educated class." Many oriental countries go through a period...when they probably "need" dictatorship. Nasser's chief justification for arbitrary rule is that he acts solely as an agent of the people... - Gunther
Morning, February 24th, National Harbor, Maryland, the Conservative Political Action Conference. "Sitdown [sic],
everybody, come on," he says. A lot of people can't sit down because they're in standing-room-only sections. "You know," he says, "the dishonest media, they'll say, 'He didn't get a standing ovation.' You know why? You know why? No, you know why?" He goes on, "Because everybody stood and nobody sat. Right?" ...his trademark red tie hanging like the tongue of a sled dog. ...he...flashes a...thumbs-up. The crowd breaks out: "U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!" Reporters stare... They were route bystanders seconds ago, now they're the 1980 Soviet hockey team. "U-S=A? What the f..." Was the idea that reporters wouldn't notice a standing ovation unless the crowd eventually sat down? ...CNN...expecting to make a billion dollars... If Trump hates the press, being the first person in decades to reverse the industry's seemingly inexorable financial decline is a funny way of showing it. Trump ...picked a hockey-team owner to be Secretary of the Army. ...Trump...had brutalized...his...pick for energy secretary...as [someone]
whose "smart glasses" affection didn't fool anyone. ...to send someone you're on record calling an idiot to run the nation's arsenal [is surely] mischief, evil, incompetence - it's even a little extreme for nihilism. ...Trumps...Health and Human Services Nominee...with...the voice of a man complaining to a waitress. Another early nominee...CIA chief...once called politics "a never-ending struggle...until the Rapture." ...NSA communications pick...blockhead Monica Crowley, had to step down over plagiarism allegations. [The Labor Secretary nominee's] ex-wife had appeared in disguise on 'The Oprah Winfrey Show" back in the Nineties to talk about being abused. - Rolling Stone, 4/16/2017
"He was not a combatant in the civil war, but because he was indigenous and a more progressive voice, he was associated with the left." "You only need religious sanctuary if you don't have proper sanctuary from the city." - Westword, 4/13-19/2017
Demons and monkeys battle. Noblemen and women fall in love... ...the magical events of the world of superheroes...of the legendary Indian prince Rama. ...the divine hero, the stalwart heroine, the powerful monkey ally, and the ten-headed demon king...
...to break the cycle of poverty and crime ... Trainees...can choose options such as working in a cafe', making crafts for the shop, or helping in a massage parlor. They are also taught how to cook and speak English. ...the creation of Wat Phra That centers on Gautama Buddha... A king placed a fragment of Guatama's bone on top of a white elephant. The elephant then made its way up the mountain, trumpeted three times, and died. The king took this as an open and immediately ordered construction of the temple.
...Korean churches...have not assimilated into mainstream American culture. These churches are complete with conservative, male-dominant, and patriarchal tendencies. ...continue to insist on serving traditional rice-and-soup meals. The process of decision-making and communication is highly centralized and hierarchical. - asian avenue magazine, 4/2017
Monday. I'm notified that I have today off. I'm convinced that, from now on, I need to take any opportunity available to fit my workouts into whatever schedule I end up with. Around 12:30, I am at the stop for the bus to the gym. Standing here is a very young woman. She;s in a Playboy shirt and has a Playboy tote bag over her shoulder. She's pregnant and smoking. A low rider pickup truck rumbles to a stop at the light. From an open window comes a repeating sound of a crowing rooster. At the green light it rumbles and crows through the intersection.
...as LoDo started gaining in popularity - and marketability - the nickname was applied to areas far beyond the borders of lower downtown. ...in order to make their places more appealing. ...on the lower edge of what had once been the actual town of Highland. "We...started calling it the LoHi Marketplace." The name just applied to the Olinger complex. But no more than a month later...a realtor used the term "Lo-Hi" in an ad. Then it showed up in more ads, and on businesses in the area. "Next thing you know, we're in LoHi." The next thing Denver knew, LoHi was booming; the number of restaurants and bars in the area doubled, and then tripled... Denver's white-hot real-estate market continues to burn through previous records and boundaries, scorching feelings and facts along the way. And memories of Denver a generation ago, a decade ago, a year ago, wind up tossed in the dustbin of history. ...in 2003, the city issued its River North Plan...an area "with enormous potential to create a unique community that will take its position among Denver's great places."
...lawyers with the Denver City Attorney's Office state at two community forums...that the city had no knowledge of ICE using Denver's courthouses to apprehend people. ...inside...the courthouse. ...three men who looked like undercover cops...standing awkwardly... ...law clerk...pulled out a cell phone and began shooting a video... "Hi. Are you here with ICE?" One jerked his head back in surprise... "Do you have a warrant?" One of the men grimaced. ...a practice that Denver officials weren't acknowledging...that the ICE agents appeared ready to make an arrest without a warrant , much less without having informed the court's staff of their presence. ...representative plaintiffs...volunteered for the dollar-a-day program... ...as time went on, guards started ordering her to more and more tasks, beyond what she's volunteered for. It seemed like the Geo Group...which brings in more than $1 billion a year from private prison contracts...was making detainees essentially run the place in order to cut operational costs. ...maybe half a box...of Frosted Flakes cereal...cost $6 ...36 hours of scrubbing bathrooms. "You don't have rights. You've got to do what we tell you,"...guards telling her. While [Denver Mayor] Hancock was equivocating about Denver's sanctuary-city status, other mayors around the country were openly defying ... - Westword, 4/13-19/2017
Friday. It's closing in on 10:30 AM. I didn't think, when I woke up from a dream early this morning, that I had enough sleep. By the time to leave for work, I feel fine. I'm back out on the bike, on the long trail over the river and through the woods to work. Shortly after getting on the bike trail, I see my first park rangers on bicycles. They are patrolling the river bank. (Looking for homeless?) I come to a bridge where a gaggle of neon-clad middle-aged cyclists are gathered. There are folks like these all over the trail this morning. Coming along is a weathered guy with long grey hair, love beads, and a US Army cap. He enters the bridge. I don't know him. He and I meet at the other end, where he refers to the gaggle as "a gang" whereupon he laughs. Coming from the other direction of the trail are a neon-clad, bicycle-riding family. A mom with kids asks me directions to a brewery. I give her my directions. The Army cap guy gives her his... I get to the shopping center where I am working today. I grab lunch at a seafood place. When I come out, I take a snap shot of an elderly guy on a bench. He has bright green pants on. He's on his phone, and when he hangs up, he tells me that he's speaking to his grandson. He's here to have fish for Good Friday.
Late in 1951 the United States and western powers proposed the creation of a Middle East Defense Organization to be called MEDO... ...the project had to be dropped. The last thing any Egyptian government could tolerate...any new military installation... Egypt...woke up to see a projected chain of...defense agreements...across the whole Mediterranean and the Middle East, into the heart of Asia... Then (early in 1955)...Iraq intended to sign a defense agreement with Turkey...pulling out of the Egyptian orbit and the virtual breakup of the neutralist Arab League. Nasser...would stand [with]
the West in...any Soviet aggression in the Middle East... Al Azhar University has students from Soviet Moslem areas. ...Egypt is a powerful force behind the spread of Islam in the world; naturally it hopes to see as much of Black Africa as possible go Moslem. "What will be the effect of the immense reserves of black African manpower as they spread, irresistibly, out into the world? Africa is like a bottle with the cork being pulled out. One temperate, civilizing force is Islam. ...the more Africans who are...Mohammedanism the better." ...Egypt regards itself as a kind of ,other and father to African nationalist movements everywhere... ...Nasser wrote in his "Philosophy of the Revolution": "We cannot...remain aloof from the terrible struggle...in Africa today between the five million whites and 200,000,000 Africans . . . . The peoples of Africa will continue to look to us, who guard the northern gate...their link with all the outside world. ..our responsibility. The spread of enlightenment and civilization to the remotest depths of the jungle... The Dark Continent is now the scene of a strange and excited turbulence... ...what is going on in Africa...will effect...us...I...dream of...in Cairo a great African Institute dedicated...to the enlightened African consciousness..." - Gunther
Monday. 11 AM. Just entered the trailhead on my bike to work. It's a very nice spring day. Out on a small pond are a collection of children in life vests of various shades of neon. They are in a huge raft. Under a tree is another group of kids. Just past an underpass is a homeless guy staring at the moving water in the river. A short distance from there is another homeless guy. He's down by the bank. His orange shopping cart from Big Lots! is parked next to the trail. It's full of his stuff, complete with leather briefcase on top. Further down the trail, I am passed by a couple of different middle-aged guys on reclining bicycles. The first has a big American flag on the back. The second wears a US flag jersey. He pensively says, "Hello..." as he goes past. It's another day of cyclists everywhere. Everyone says "Hello," or "Good morning." It feels as though I am nowhere near my own neighborhood. Across one last bridge and down a connecting trail to work, I encounter a class of middle school kids. hey are running toward me, all of them loosely wearing the same uniform. One says, "Biker!" Shortly after 7 PM, I am back out on the same trail, this time for home. Not far along, I come upon a guy in a buttoned down short making his way along. He has a bloody gash across his nose and blood on his neck. This is a bizarre sight in this neck of the woods. Just beyond, under a bridge, are a couple of teenagers. There is a third running down a ramp onto the trail.
In 1898...the dervishes lost 9,700. One of...General Sir Horatio...Kitchener's officers was none other than the youthful Winston Churchill. In 1899 joint Anglo-Egyptian rule was set up over the Sudan... The British ran the country. ...Egyptian resentment...grew...at being ignominiously squeezed out of the Sudan. Meantime "Sudanese" nationalism was also growing steadily in pitch and volume. ...the local administration in Khartoum had...almost autonomous - powers. A few Balkanesque night clubs exist drearily in Khartoum, with girls... One troupe...there had a Viennese, a Greek, an Italian, A Finn, a Frenchwoman, two Hungarians and a Portuguese. But "English" women are not allowed to be night-club entertainers or prostitutes in the Sudan. For fifty years...British...administration gave the Sudan education, justice, public order, and almost complete political tranquility, with opportunity of development... There has never been a revolt... Considerable danger exists of Communist penetration into the unions... As always the Communist party appeals to the have-nots and the newly created and inadequately educated intelligentsia. It operates from subterranean cells in Egypt. "Most Moslems...do not care for an ideology so "emaciated." ...Haile Selassie...said that he would like very much to see a common defense program established for the Middle East, with American participation. He believes firmly in collective security... ...Halie Selassie himself. an extremely devout Christian, more or less runs the Ethiopian national church. Delicate and protracted negotiations with the Alexandrian patriarch were necessary... The church became national... Moslems in Ethiopia...are a powerful force. ...Moslem landowners make pockets over the whole country. ...complete religious freedom provided they remain loyal Ethiopians...have their own special civil rights, and...their own "kadi" courts. What would Egypt's attitude be if, by some conceivable chance, a Moslem Brotherhood government should take command in Cairo some fine day? Ethiopians of the ruling class... Semites entered Ethiopia from across the Red Sea - thousands of years ago. There is practically no contact cultural or economic, with Black Africa. - Gunther
...the unprecedented intervention from abroad...began around 1840. ...a whole series of wars sapped the country's reserves. These wars...as Western powers invaded, became fratricidal as these same powers backed one warlord against another...or their favorite of the moment against popular resistance. the whole superstructure...political, military, religious, and cultural - and...the policies of imperialist powers propped the superstructure up...while they attacked...the economic foundation upon which it rested. ...power...hovered in the background in the shape of county, provincial, and national officials...adequate to...crushing internal revolt and...protect...interests of...families who stood to gain from...the old agrarian system. ...this group maintained a virtual monopoly of power. Several thousand years of Confucian teachings had established a climate...in which no one...questioned the system...land ownership... The squires...impressed..."right thinking"... A village school for...Confucius; operas...of...virtue and vice...ancestor worship...Buddhism, with its passive acceptance of fate...the Catholic Church...in defense of...feudal remnants - a stalwart bulwark against social change. ...the village government, with its power to tax, arrest, flog, fine, and...execute. ...the main purpose of the village government was the collection of taxes, the supply of manpower for public works, and the conscription of soldiers. ...a never-ending "war of all against all"... ...corruption, favoritism, influence peddling, and violence...drove...gangster-type secret societies...made...powerful gentry...into local warlords...over whole...provinces. ...many an adventurer built a career and fortune looting and killing...hunting rebels and...communists. ...Chaing Kai-shek introduced...the Kuomintang Party organization. [A]
hundred families [as a unit]
were held collectively responsible for each...of their members. - Hinton
Tuesday. I'm at a stop for the bus to the gym. One middle-aged guy gets on a bus. He's in a Jack Daniels T-shirt and is carrying a golf club. My own bus comes. Sitting up front is another middle-aged guy. He moves like an old cowboy. He's in a cap and a Tupac T-shirt. After my workout, I have twenty minutes before my bus home shows up. In a room with chairs, off the lobby, are some kids from the middle school next door. We're in a neighborhood where families walk back and forth to church each Sunday. One is in sweat pants and no shirt and a ball cap. He looks like Marky Mark. From the speaker of another kid's i-pod comes, "I put my dick on her forehead..." At the front desk is a girl who appears to be in high school. She's in Capri-length jeans and a shirt with "STAFF" on the back in big letters. With her iron curled blond hair, he appears to be standing and wondering what she should do next. She goes into the office. Out at the stop for the bus home is another student from the school. She is wearing knee-length unicorn socks. I get on the bus when it comes. In a seat is a silent middle-school student with a buzz cut. At one stop a tall blonde girl gets on and recognizes him. From the corner of my eye, I think I see her sit next to him and give him a kiss on the mouth. For the next couple of minutes, without stopping, she tells him about her day. As quickly as she showed up, she is off the bus. I get out at Walmart, where I need to pick up a new microwave oven. Oven on a dolly, I'm headed back to the bus stop through the parking lot. A nearby private school has let out. Middle or high school-age students are making their way on foot through the same lot. Everyone is wearing a shirt with the name of the school on the breast. I notice one particular girl with a blouse which appears very much like the uniform. On the breast, instead of the school name, it reads "SKYE Vodka."
Wednesday. Out on the bike trail to work. It's a beautiful day, and bicycles are everywhere. It's warm enough for short sleeves and shorts. One guy on a bike is dressed in black denim from head to toe. His bike has a bike trailer attached on the back of his bike. In it is his black leather jacket. I'm on a part of the trail which runs along side a long energy plant. Standing outside of one gate to the plant is someone holding a hot pink sign. It reads, "Now hiring." Someone next to him is on a bicycle. (He's there to sign up?) The trail detours over a bridge and onto a road. Off to the side is the black denim guy's bike. He somehow made it past me in stealth mode. I continue on, turning down another trail which travels through park after beautiful blooming wooded park. Walking from the other direction are three guys, two of whom have knit caps pulled down low. One is pointing across a creek, telling them, "...right there...that motherfuckin' TV and shit." I get to the shopping center where I work and grab lunch. I have dessert at a yogurt place. Sitting outside on the patio, I listen to a pair of middle-aged ladies next to me. God has been speaking to someone they know, according to one of them, providing employment advice. Kind of like a psychic. There is, in this tale, a family who prayed al lot. A woman they know "started going to church.." Something about a wheelchair. because of the traffic, I can't make everything out. The woman was lonely and loved her church. It 'was real strong for believing for healing." Kind of like a shaman. The next thing I hear about this woman is that fire went up her body, "and she didn't stop it." Okay. "She didn't know what to make of it." I know how she feels. On my way home after work, I'm on the last trail home, around 8 PM. I'm passed by a biker listening to a radio. When I come upon an underpass, he's parked there, sitting under the bridge. I've seen someone in this very spot,before, bike parked next to a shopping cart and someone under a sleeping bag, listening to a radio. I wonder.
The following day is another double shift. I head over to a Starbucks around 7 AM. My barista has a blue Mohawk. I take a look at a postcard advertisement for a stage production of The Rocky Horror Show. Another barista tells me, "Our very own Colin (with Mohawk) is producing this." The odd thing is, I am familiar with a different barista at this Starbucks. I don't know either one of these, one of whom speaks as though she is a regular. But I'm only here sporadically. The following evening, I hop on the bus home, driven by a middle-aged woman with her hair dyed the same shade of blue as many teenagers I've seen. Fifteen minutes later, I am on a train home. At the station, I see my first choice for a bus home. I step out just in time to see it take off, and I jump back on the train. At the next station is my next choice for a bus home, which I make just in time. I sit down in front of a grey-haired guy with an eye patch. I have another full weekend...and plenty to do. I head out around 3 PM to what is much more traffic than should be, even on my street. The boulevard is blocked off south of my corner. I wander past a police officer taking a statement from the driver of a vehicle hit on the back corner. It sounds as if the other car hit him at 70 mph. Both streets are full of traffic which wants to continue the race, having been detoured and coming out of alleys and through any available parking lot. Accident investigation be damned. Tires continue to squeal, horns honk, sound systems rattle.
"...the city's priorities have shifted from the arts to corporate development." ...as rents have exploded. Some have moved to Commerce City...Englewood...Aurora. "It's the suburbanization of art. There are pressures on all sides of the Navajo Arts District." ...just north on West 38th Avenue and in Sunnyside, to west along Tennyson Street, south in LoHi and quickly creeping up Navajo, which now is full of monster-sized modern homes where bungalows and shotgun houses once stood. "Navajo is just surrounded by a lot of success." ...Denver's artists have been priced out of LoDo, RiNo, South Broadway and now the Navajo Arts District. - Westword, 4/20-26/2017
He wore a military grade helmet with a "Make America Great Again" sticker across the back, goggles, a gas mask, and knee pads. He blamed people opposed to [Ann]
Coulter and President Donald Trump for forcing him to gear up for problems. Many at the park...also wore such helmets and body armor. Some had "Build That Wall" or Trump stickers across their headgear. Officers took selfies with students in an attempt to lighten the mood. ...co-founder of [a media company]
and a founder of the pro-Trump "proud Boys," spoke at the park... "...Ann Coulter... She is an American hero." On its Facebook page, the group calls itself a fraternal organization aimed at "reinstating a spirit of Western chauvinism during an age of globalism and multiculturalism." In a letter to the campus... "This is a university, not a battlefield,"...Chancellor Nicholas B. Dirks...wrote. Earlier this month, a bloody brawl broke out in downtown Berkley, at a pro-Trump protest that featured...members of the white nationalist right. They clashed with a group of Trump critics who called themselves anti-fascists. [At a protest against Ann Coulter,]
an anti-fascist group did not show up in force. - msn news, 4/28/2017
Monday. Seven more days in the month. Around 7:30 PM, I am on the way home after work, rolling down the bike trail at sunset. Just off the side of this trail which follows the river is a couple. The guy has a bicycle parked. The woman has a stroller full of crap. She lights a cigarette. Her face is full of deep lines. A half hour or so later, the trail goes past a VFW hall. Along the side of the street come a guy with a leather-colored face with white hair. It's a striking combination, even at twilight. He appears with some effort to be hauling a bicycle with a bike trailer attached. The trailer must be loaded with who knows what. Off the trail, as I approach my neighborhood, I see that the weather is nice enough for the police helicopter to make an appearance. Wednesday. I'm headed to the gate where my last bus has pulled up at 7:40 PM. At the head of the line of passengers ready to board is a middle-aged guy with a crew cut-length mohawk, and a colored ink tattoo on the back of his neck. He says, "Oh shit, I just had my pass." The driver steps out for a smoke, waving everyone else aboard.
...the Kuomintang Party...a counter-revolutionary political force... They agitated in favor of that...blend of nationalism, fascism, and Confucianism immortalized by Chiang Kai-shek in his book "China's Destin," maintained strict thought control over all village life and mobilized the landlord class for a showdown with the rising peasant revolution. ...weakness in the peasants as a political force...was...the...struggle to beat the other fellow in the market place. ...of the great wares of political, cultural, and scientific thought that broke on China's shores in the early twentieth century scarcely a ripple reached...inland villages... In 1916...churches built under the direction of Catholic missionaries from Europe...disrupting and dividing the community...won...the bitter hatred of the majority outside the Church. ...the great powers were...openly preparing to divide up China... ...people...carried on their Buddhist rites in secret, and lived in fear of...the priests. [Of female children abandoned or sold to orphanages...]
Once they became property of the orphanage...they were reclaimed by the Church... ...put to work [domestically.]
...products of their labor were...sold...to provide...income for the orphanage and the Church... Having paid their way...up to...14 hours a day - the young women were betrothed...to local peddlers, traders, peasants or soldiers... [Of the institution which kept the books of the Church...]
By the 1930's [it]
was the largest single landholder in the village. [This institution loaned money to peasants.]
...the families who owed money...were forced to sell all the land they had [or]
their houses. {It]
occupied by force the land of [others.]
Other families sold sons, daughters... [It,]
as a religious institution, paid no taxes on the land it owned, the tenants had to pay all... - Hinton
Sunday. The last day of the month. I'm at the supermarket late in the morning, talking to a new Front End Supervisor. She lives close by, but here at this store, she hasn't noticed the customers in camouflage and pajamas. I head out with groceries to the stop for the bus home. The bus arrives at the street light. It has a big "31" on the front. From behind me, I hear "Fuck!" Along comes someone, not in camouflage or pajamas, but with a big bag of organic dog food over his left shoulder. He asks me, "Is that the 31 bus?" After I get home and put away the food, I head over to m the salon of the woman who cuts my hair, Mrs. Thuy. She's an ethnic Vietnamese woman in her 50s, and the most beautiful woman you will ever see. This afternoon, the digital antenna on her TV brings in a channel called Me TV, full of old TV shows. She remembers them just as I do. She makes a distinction between these shows, which she thinks of as "family oriented," and newer programming which she considers full of post-pubescent issues. Later in the evening I head over to the Vietnamese restaurant behind my house. As usual, it's full of more Caucasians than I ever see in any other corner of this neighborhood. One young guy is dressed up like Arlo Guthrie. There's a girl in a hoodie with "education is liberation" on the back.
