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    Coachella Junkie fatbastard's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    The Brazilian Bus Magnate Who’s Buying Up All the World’s Vinyl Records
    By MONTE REELAUG. 8, 2014

    Paul Mawhinney, a former music-store owner in Pittsburgh, spent more than 40 years amassing a collection of some three million LPs and 45s, many of them bargain-bin rejects that had been thoroughly forgotten. The world’s indifference, he believed, made even the most neglected records precious: music that hadn’t been transferred to digital files would vanish forever unless someone bought his collection and preserved it.

    Mawhinney spent about two decades trying to find someone who agreed. He struck a deal for $28.5 million in the late 1990s with the Internet retailer CDNow, he says, but the sale of his collection fell through when the dot-com bubble started to quiver. He contacted the Library of Congress, but negotiations fizzled. In 2008 he auctioned the collection on eBay for $3,002,150, but the winning bidder turned out to be an unsuspecting Irishman who said his account had been hacked.

    Then last year, a friend of Mawhinney’s pointed him toward a classified ad in the back of Billboard magazine:
    Freitas is a wealthy businessman who, since he was a child, has been unable to stop buying records. ‘I’ve gone to therapy for 40 years to try to explain this to myself.’

    RECORD COLLECTIONS. We BUY any record collection. Any style of music. We pay HIGHER prices than anyone else.
    That fall, eight empty semitrailers, each 53 feet long, arrived outside Mawhinney’s warehouse in Pittsburgh. The convoy left, heavy with vinyl. Mawhinney never met the buyer.

    “I don’t know a thing about him — nothing,” Mawhinney told me. “I just know all the records were shipped to Brazil.”
    Just weeks before, Murray Gershenz, one of the most celebrated collectors on the West Coast and owner of the Music Man Murray record store in Los
    Angeles, died at 91. For years, he, too, had been shopping his collection around, hoping it might end up in a museum or a public library. “That hasn’t worked out,” The Los Angeles Times reported in 2010, “so his next stop could be the Dumpster.” But in his final months, Gershenz agreed to sell his entire collection to an anonymous buyer. “A man came in with money, enough money,” his son, Irving, told The New York Times. “And it seemed like he was going to give it a good home.”

    Those records, too, were shipped to Brazil. So were the inventories of several iconic music stores, including Colony Records, that glorious mess of LP bins and sheet-music racks that was a Times Square landmark for 64 years. The store closed its doors for good in the fall of 2012, but every single record left in the building — about 200,000 in all — ended up with a single collector, a man driven to get his hands on all the records in the world.
    In an office near the back of his 25,000-square-foot warehouse in São Paolo, Zero Freitas, 62, slipped into a chair, grabbed one of the LPs stacked on a table and examined its track list. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, khaki shorts and a Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt; his gray hair was thin on top but curled along his collar in the back. Studying the song list, he appeared vaguely professorial. In truth, Freitas is a wealthy businessman who, since he was a child, has been unable to stop buying records. “I’ve gone to therapy for 40 years to try to explain this to myself,” he said.

    His compulsion to buy records, he says, is tied up in childhood memories: a hi-fi stereo his father bought when Freitas was 5 and the 200 albums the seller threw in as part of the deal. Freitas was an adolescent in December 1964 when he bought his first record, a new release: “Roberto Carlos Sings to the Children,” by a singer who would go on to become one of Brazil’s most popular recording stars. By the time he finished high school, Freitas owned roughly 3,000 records.

    After studying music composition in college, he took over the family business, a private bus line that serves the São Paulo suburbs. By age 30, he had about 30,000 records. About 10 years later, his bus company expanded, making him rich. Not long after that, he split up with his wife, and the pace of his buying exploded. “Maybe it’s because I was alone,” Freitas said. “I don’t know.” He soon had a collection in the six figures; his best guess at a current total is several million albums.

    Recently, Freitas hired a dozen college interns to help him bring some logic to his obsession. In the warehouse office, seven of them were busy at individual workstations; one reached into a crate of LPs marked “PW #1,425” and fished out a record. She removed the disc from its sleeve and cleaned the vinyl with a soft cloth before handing the album to the young man next to her. He ducked into a black-curtained booth and snapped a picture of the cover. Eventually the record made its way through the assembly line of interns, and its information was logged into a computer database. An intern typed the name of the artist (the Animals), the title (“Animalism”), year of release (1966), record label (MGM) and — referencing the tag on the crate the record was pulled from — noted that it once belonged to Paulette Weiss, a New York music critic whose collection of 4,000 albums Freitas recently purchased.

    For the truly compulsive hobbyist, there comes a time when a collection gathers weight — metaphysical, existential weight.
    The interns can collectively catalog about 500 records per day — a Sisyphean rate, as it happens, because Freitas has been burying them with new acquisitions. Between June and November of last year, more than a dozen 40-foot-long shipping containers arrived, each holding more than 100,000 newly purchased records. Though the warehouse was originally the home of his second business — a company that provides sound and lighting systems for rock concerts and other big events — these days the sound boards and light booms are far outnumbered by the vinyl.

    Many of the records come from a team of international scouts Freitas employs to negotiate his deals. They’re scattered across the globe — New York, Mexico City, South Africa, Nigeria, Cairo. The brassy jazz the interns were listening to on the office turntable was from his man in Havana, who so far has shipped him about 100,000 Cuban albums — close to everything ever recorded there, Freitas estimated. He and the interns joke that the island is rising in the Caribbean because of all the weight Freitas has hauled away.

    Allan Bastos, who for years has served as Freitas’s New York buyer, was visiting São Paulo and joined us that afternoon in the warehouse office. Bastos, a Brazilian who studied business at the University of Michigan, used to collect records himself, often posting them for sale on eBay. In 2006, he noticed that a single buyer — Freitas — was snapping up virtually every record he listed. He has been buying records for him ever since, focusing on U.S. collections. He has purchased stockpiles from aging record executives and retired music critics, as well as from the occasional celebrity (he bought the record collection of Bob Hope from his daughter about 10 years after Hope died). This summer Bastos moved to Paris, where he’ll buy European records for Freitas.

    Bastos looked over the shoulder of an intern, who was entering the information from another album into the computer.
    “This will take years and years,” Bastos said of the cataloging effort. “Probably 20 years, I guess.”
    Twenty years — if Freitas stops buying records.

    Collecting has always been a solitary pursuit for Freitas, and one he keeps to himself. When he bought the remaining stock of the legendary Modern Sound record store in Rio de Janeiro a couple of years ago, a Brazilian newspaper reported that the buyer was a Japanese collector — an identity Bastos invented to protect Freitas’s anonymity. His collection hasn’t been publicized, even within Brazil. Few of his fellow vinyl enthusiasts are aware of the extent of his holdings, partly because Freitas never listed any of his records for sale.
    But in 2012, Bob George, a music archivist in New York, traveled with Bastos to São Paulo to prepare for Brazilian World Music Day, a celebration that George organized, and together they visited Freitas’s home and warehouse; the breadth of the collection astonished George. He was reminded of William Randolph Hearst, the newspaper magnate who lusted after seemingly every piece of art on the world market and then kept expanding his private castle to house all of it.

    “What’s the good of having it,” George remembers telling Freitas, “if you can’t do something with it or share it?”
    To help him locate records in his personal collection, Freitas uses objects like “Star Wars” cards (Disney LPs) and a Heineken bottle (soccer LPs). Credit Sebastián Liste/Noor, for The New York Times

    The question nagged at Freitas. For the truly compulsive hobbyist, there comes a time when a collection gathers weight — metaphysical, existential weight. It becomes as much a source of anxiety as of joy. Freitas in recent years had become increasingly attracted to mystic traditions — Jewish, Christian, Hindu, Buddhist. In his house, he and his second wife created a meditation room, and they began taking spiritual vacations to India and Egypt. But the teachings he admired didn’t always jibe with his life as a collector — acquiring, possessing, never letting go. Every new record he bought seemed to whisper in his ear: What, ultimately, do you want to do with all this stuff?

    He found a possible model in George, who in 1985 converted his private collection of some 47,000 records into a publicly accessible resource called the ARChive of Contemporary Music. That collection has grown to include roughly 2.2 million tapes, records and compact discs. Musicologists, record companies and filmmakers regularly consult the nonprofit archive seeking hard-to-find songs. In 2009 George entered into a partnership with Columbia University, and his archive has attracted support from many musicians, who donate recordings, money or both. The Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards has provided funding for the archive’s collection of early blues recordings. David Bowie, Paul Simon, Nile Rodgers, Martin Scorsese and Jonathan Demme all sit on its board.

    Freitas has recently begun preparing his warehouse for his own venture, which he has dubbed Emporium Musical. Last year, he got federal authorization to import used records — an activity that hadn’t been explicitly allowed by Brazilian trade officials until now. Once the archive is registered as a nonprofit, Freitas will shift his collection over to the Emporium. Eventually he envisions it as a sort of library, with listening stations set up among the thousands of shelves. If he has duplicate copies of records, patrons will be able to check out copies to take home.

    Some of those records are highly valuable. In Freitas’s living room, a coffee table was covered with recently acquired rarities. On top of a stack of 45s sat “Barbie,” a 1962 single by Kenny and the Cadets, a short-lived group featuring the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson on lead vocals and, as backup singers, Wilson’s brother Carl and their mother, Audree. In the same stack was another single — “Heartache Souvenirs"/"Chicken Shack,” by William Powell — that has fetched as much as $5,000 on eBay. Nearby sat a Cuban album by Ivette Hernandez, a pianist who left Cuba after Fidel Castro took power; Hernandez’s likeness on the cover was emblazoned with a bold black stamp that read, in Spanish, “Traitor to the Cuban Revolution.”

    While Freitas thumbed through those records, Bastos was warning of a future in which some music might disappear unnoticed. Most of the American and British records Freitas has collected have already been digitally preserved. But in countries like Brazil, Cuba and Nigeria, Bastos estimated, up to 80 percent of recorded music from the mid-20th century has never been transferred. In many places, he said, vinyl is it, and it’s increasingly hard to find. Freitas slumped, then covered his face with his hands and emitted a low, rumbling groan. “It’s very important to save this,” he said. “Very important.”

    Freitas is negotiating a deal to purchase and digitize thousands of Brazilian 78 r.p.m. recordings, many of which date to the early 1900s, and he expects to digitize some of the rarest records in his collection shortly thereafter. But he said he could more effectively save the music by protecting the existing vinyl originals in a secure, fireproof facility. “Vinyl is very durable,” he said. “If you store them vertically, out of the sun, in a temperature-controlled environment, they can pretty much last forever. They aren’t like compact discs, which are actually very fragile.”

    In his quest to save obscure music, Bastos told me, Freitas sometimes buys records he doesn’t realize he already owns. This spring he finally acquiesced to Bastos’s pleas to sell some of his duplicate records, which make up as much as 30 percent of his total collection, online.
    “I said, ‘Come on, you have 10 copies of the same album — let’s sell four or five!’ ” Bastos said.

    Freitas smiled and shrugged. “Yes, but all of those 10 copies are different,” he countered. Then he chuckled, as if recognizing how illogical his position might sound.

    Freitas and the interns joke that the island is rising in the Caribbean because of all the weight he has hauled away.
    In March, he began boxing up 10,000 copies of Brazilian LPs to send to George in an exchange between the emerging public archive and its inspirational model. It was a modest first step, but significant. Freitas had begun to let go.

    Earlier this year, Freitas and Bastos stopped into Eric Discos, a used-record store in São Paulo that Freitas frequents. “I put some things aside for you,” the owner, Eric Crauford, told him. The men walked next door, where Crauford lives. Hundreds of records and dozens of CDs teetered in precarious stacks — jazz, heavy metal, pop, easy listening — all for Freitas.

    Sometimes Freitas seems ashamed of his own eclecticism. “A real collector,” he told me, is someone who targets specific records, or sticks to a particular genre. But Freitas hates to filter his purchases. Bastos once stumbled upon an appealing collection that came with 15,000 polka albums. He called Freitas to see if it was a deal breaker. “Zero was asking me about specific polka artists, whether they were in the collection or not,” Bastos remembered. “He has this amazing knowledge of every kind of music.”

    That afternoon, Freitas purchased Crauford’s selections without inspecting them, as he always does. He told Crauford he’d send someone later in the week to pick them up and deliver them to his house. Bastos listened to the exchange without comment but noted the destination of the records — Freitas’s residence, not the archive’s warehouse. He was worried that the collector’s compulsions might be getting in the way of the archiving efforts. “Zero isn’t taking too many of the records to his house, is he?” Bastos had asked a woman who helps Freitas manage his cataloging operation.
    No, she told him. But almost every time Freitas picked up a record at the archive, he’d tell a whole story about it. Often, she said, he’d become overwhelmed with emotion. “It’s like he almost cries with every record he sees,” she told him.

    Freitas’s desire to own all the music in the world is clearly tangled up in something that, even after all these years, remains tender and raw. Maybe it’s the nostalgia triggered by the songs on that first Roberto Carlos album he bought, or perhaps it stretches back to the 200 albums his parents kept when he was small — a microcollection that was damaged in a flood long ago but that, as an adult, he painstakingly recreated, album by album.
    After the trip to Eric Discos, I descended into Freitas’s basement, where he keeps a few thousand cherry-picked records, a private stash he doesn’t share with the archive. Aside from a little area reserved for a half-assembled drum kit, a couple of guitars, keyboards and amps, the room was a labyrinth of floor-to-ceiling shelving units filled with records.

    He walked deep into an aisle in search of the first LP he ever bought, the 1964 Roberto Carlos record. He pulled it from the shelf, turning it slowly in his hands, staring at the cover as if it were an irreplaceable artifact — as if he did not, in fact, own 1,793 additional copies of albums by Roberto Carlos, the artist who always has, and always will, occupy more space in his collection than anyone else.

    Nearby sat a box of records he hadn’t shelved yet. They came from the collection of a man named Paulo Santos, a Brazilian jazz critic and D.J. who lived in Washington during the 1950s and who was friendly with some of the giants of jazz and modern classical music. Freitas thumbed through one album after another — Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Leonard Bernstein, Dave Brubeck. The records were signed, and not with simple autographs; the artists had written affectionate messages to Santos, a man they obviously respected.

    “These dedications are so personal,” Freitas said, almost whispering.

    He held the Ellington record for an extended moment, reading the inscription, then scanning the liner notes. Behind his glasses, his eyes looked slightly red and watery, as if something was irritating them. Dust, maybe. But the record was perfectly clean.

    Monte Reel is the author of “Between Man and Beast” and “The Last of the Tribe.”
    ...
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    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

  2. #572
    zeezus amyzzz's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    http://america.aljazeera.com/watch/s...probation.html

    Pay up or pay time: Alabama’s private probation industry



    Alabamans who can't pay a fine may end up in a vicious cycle of fees and even jail time – and someone'€™s profiting
    August 12, 2014 12:00PM ET
    by Sarah Hoye @Sarah_Hoye


    CHILDERSBURG, Ala. – Elvis Mann dropped a freshly sliced green tomato into a skillet, bringing it life. One by one, he flipped the slabs with a fork, his worn fingers immune to the popping grease.
    “It’s a secret recipe,” he said with a thick drawl and flashing a Cheshire Cat grin.
    The 55-year-old Mann wasn’t always so carefree. Trouble began in 2006 when the police stopped him for a broken taillight and ticketed him for not having a valid driver’s license. When Mann couldn’t afford to pay the fine, he was told he was on probation.
    “They put me on probation for 300 and some dollars,” he said.
    Mann was told to report to the small non-descript Childersburg offices of Judicial Corrections Services (JCS), a for-profit company that has probation contracts with more than 100 courts across Alabama. In the areas where it operates, JCS manages the probation of offenders who are unable to pay a ticket in full, collecting the court fine plus a monthly supervision fee.
    Unemployed and surviving off disability payments, Mann couldn’t afford the mounting costs. When he didn’t pay up, JCS asked the court to issue a warrant for his arrest.
    “I don't think it's right for them to do people like that. You know, if you ain't got the money, you just don't have the money,” Mann said. “And I don't think by putting people in jail ain't going to make them pay the money, you know what I mean? It ain't going to help them.”

    'Barely getting along’







    In the U.S., a dozen states have private probation services.America Tonight

    Every year, hundreds of thousands of people across the country who are ticketed for minor offenses are sentenced to probation managed by private companies, according to Human Rights Watch. In Alabama, it’s become a vicious cycle of fines, mounting fees and even jail time.
    JCS collects fines for violations like drunk driving, speeding or driving without a license, all at no cost to taxpayers. The Atlanta-based company charged Mann an additional monthly fee of $35 and also dug up old fines that Mann owed from past offenses dating back to the 1990s, including disorderly conduct, public intoxication and resisting arrest.
    “I was a drinker, heavy drinker,” he said. “I was wild.”
    But Mann was a sober, married churchgoer when he started making regular payments to the city – paying down a debt that JCS claimed was almost $9,000.

    Elvis Mann used to be a drinker and had several brushes with the law. But today, he's sober and married. America Tonight
    “That's all I was doing – digging holes, making it deeper and deeper,” he said. “At first, I felt hopeless that nothing could be done.”
    Danny Evans, Mann’s attorney, has filed a class-action lawsuit against JCS, accusing it of illegally preying on the poor.
    “They pretend that they're a probation service,” Evans said. “In fact, they're not certified as state or federal probation officers. They're not trained as probation officers. What it provides to the city is a collection service.”
    Mann said he was jailed for 30 days for non-payment. On another occasion, the Army veteran said JCS told him that if he didn’t pay $600 by the end of the day the town would lock him up again.
    “He looked like he was crying,” said Mann’s wife, Rita Mann. “It scared me, ‘cause we didn't have $600. We were barely getting along… making and trying to pay bills.”
    Rita Mann was able to borrow the money from her aunt. But she said the monthly JCS bills were unrelenting, even when her husband was in the hospital with an infection and she begged the company for a respite.
    “I was struggling. I had to go to the hospital every day for my husband,” she said, her voice quivering. “I almost lost my husband. He likely died. And I explained that to them and they still didn't care. It was all about their money.”



    An 'offender-funded' system


    Deaundra Bell, from Birmingham, Ala., said his probation started after police spotted him drinking a beer on a friend’s porch and ticketed him for public intoxication.
    “It put pressure on me and my family 'cause I can't provide for them right now,” Bell said. “And it's really hard to get a job and I have bills to pay.”
    Also in Birmingham, Teresa Halston’s three sons have all struggled to make their JCS payments.
    “They mail you notices, saying, ‘You've gotta pay this amount of money by this date, or we're gonna put you in jail,’” she said. “They mail you little postcards. I mean, it's just a bombardment. They're bill collectors.”

    Hali Woods's family can't afford a new tag for the car, so she now has three expired tag tickets at $186 a piece, she said. America Tonight
    Hali Woods fell into debt with JCS when she was only 16. In August 2013, Woods was ticketed for not wearing a seatbelt. That $25 ticket coupled with court costs ballooned into $300. She paid that off, but is now back at town hall, saddled with another debt because her mother can’t afford a new tag for the family’s only car.
    In 2012, Judge Hub Harrington temporarily shut down JCS in an Alabama town, calling the “offender-funded” system a “debtor’s prison.”
    “I called it judicially sanctioned extortion racket,” said Harrington, now a retired circuit court judge. “What happens is it's kind of a shake down, because the individuals are told, ‘If you don't bring a payment I will put you in jail.’”
    In the 1980s, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that it was illegal to lock someone up simply because they can’t pay a debt, especially if there hasn’t been a hearing to determine economic status.
    “There's nothing legal about it, which is basis of my opinion. In fact, I think I even wrote something that violations were too egregious and too numerous to mention in the short space,” Harrington said. “…They were following none of the procedures set out by the constitution, by the State of Alabama, by the Code of Criminal Procedure.”
    JCS CEO Robert McMichael declined America Tonight’s repeated requests for an interview. However, two years ago, he wrote an op-ed saying, “JCS does not levy fees or fines” against those who are “ordered by the court.” He added: “JCS does not have the authority to jail people. Only the judge may do so.”
    It’s true that JCS doesn’t directly send people to jail. But that isn’t always clear to the debtor, according to Harrington.
    “They use that apparent authority to the utmost to coerce and threaten and extort the people that they're serving,” he said.



    Easing the burden


    Alabama State Sen. Cam Ward believes private probation companies can serve a useful purpose.
    “There's a role for it, because there's a lot of municipalities [that] have no way in the world of collecting a lot of those fines and fees. And that's not fair to them,” Ward told America Tonight. “Privatizing part of it’s fine as long as there's good, proper government oversight to make sure it's being carried out properly.”
    Earlier this year, Ward introduced legislation to better regulate industry, including more oversight and training, which failed to pass.

    Attorney Danny Evans, who's filed a class-action lawsuit against JCS. America Tonight
    “If I get a $100 fine or citation I should be required to pay it and there should be a method to collect it,” Ward said.
    But Evans, Mann’s attorney, doesn’t believe a for-profit company belongs in the probation business.
    “There's nothing that I can tell you that makes sense about it,” Evans said. “It's a system that's run amok, that is completely ignorant and has no concept or any consideration for these constitutional protections.”
    After eight years on probation – six years beyond Alabama’s legal limit – and thousands of dollars paid, Elvis Mann finally won his fight and his fines were dismissed. It’s a small victory Mann and his lawyer hope to build on through the class action suit for the thousands of others caught in the cycle of debt and unable to dig themselves out.
    “When they said I'm dismissed and that was the happiest day of my life,” Mann said. “The burden just lifted up off of me.”




    This is really horrifying to me, putting poor people in HUGE debt for having committed minor offenses like not wearing a seatbelt or having an expired driver's license.
    Quote Originally Posted by RandyInHeaven View Post
    So it turns out Jesus is a LOT like cr***

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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    Henry Stone, 93, Dies; Produced the Miami Sound


    By BRUCE WEBERAUG. 13, 2014


    Henry Stone, who produced early recordings by Ray Charles and James Brown and whose Hialeah, Fla., company, TK Records, was a fountain of disco in the 1970s and the source of what came to be called the Miami sound, died on Thursday in Miami. He was 93.

    His death was confirmed by his son Joe.

    Mr. Stone was in the record business in Miami for more than 60 years, as both a distributor and a producer. A trumpeter as a young man, he arrived in 1948 after playing in an Army band during World War II and working in Los Angeles peddling records to restaurants and bars for their jukeboxes.

    In the early 1950s he recorded a handful of songs, including “St. Pete Florida Blues,” on Rockin’ Records, one of the many labels he created, by a young blind singer, then known as Ray Charles Robinson, who would later go by the name Ray Charles. On De Luxe Records, he recorded “Hearts of Stone” by the Charms, which reached No. 1 on several rhythm-and-blues charts.

    A friend and confidant of James Brown, who recorded for a competitor, King Records, Mr. Stone stepped in when Brown had a dispute with King. Identifying Brown and his band as Nat Kendrick and the Swans (Nat Kendrick was Brown’s drummer) to keep the arrangement secret from King’s proprietor, Syd Nathan, he recorded the instrumental “(Do the) Mashed Potatoes” and released it on the Dade label in 1960.

    “One of the repeated lines was for someone to shout ‘mashed potatoes’ and Brown volunteered,” Mr. Stone is quoted as saying by the website HenryStoneMusic.com. “At the last minute I decided it was too risky using Brown’s very recognizable voice and turned to him and said, ‘You can’t do that! I can’t use your voice on this record because Nathan will” go after the label. “We have to leave your voice off and strictly make this an instrumental.’ I still liked the idea of someone shouting ‘mashed potatoes,’ but I had to use someone else.”

    Mr. Stone continued to record rhythm-and-blues artists in the 1960s, but he focused largely on record distribution until several major labels decided to distribute their own product, forcing him to set up his own company, TK Records — named for Terry Kane, a sound engineer who built the recording studio. The company, which Mr. Stone ran with Steve Alaimo, a former pop singer, grew to become one of the industry’s largest independent labels during the disco era.

    Its biggest hit makers were KC and the Sunshine Band, whose leader, Harry Wayne Casey, was a part-time employee at the company before the band began turning out a string of hits, including “Shake Shake Shake (Shake Your Booty),” “I’m Your Boogie Man,” “That’s the Way I Like It” — uh-huh, uh-huh — and “Get Down Tonight.” But the company and its subsidiary labels also released successful records by other artists — among them George McRae, Benny Latimore, Timmy Thomas, Betty Wright and Anita Ward — whose upbeat melding of funk, soul and disco came to be identified as the Miami sound.

    When disco faded, so did TK, which ceased operations in 1981; one of its last recordings was “Another One Rides the Bus” — a parody of the Queen hit “Another One Bites the Dust” — by Weird Al Yankovic.

    Henry David Epstein was born in the Bronx on June 3, 1921, and grew up for a time in the Washington Heights neighborhood in northern Manhattan. His father, Charles, a salesman, died when Henry was a boy. His mother, Leah, a seamstress faced with dire straits and two other children to care for after the stock market crash, placed Henry in an orphanage in Pleasantville, N.Y., where, having been inspired by the music of Louis Armstrong, he took up the trumpet.

    He served in the Army during World War II, playing in an integrated band that was based in Fort Dix, N.J. After his discharge, he changed his last name to Stone and began his professional life in Los Angeles; shortly thereafter he moved to Miami.

    Mr. Stone’s first marriage ended in divorce. In addition to his son Joe, he is survived by his wife, the former Inez Pinchot; another son, David; five daughters, Donna Stone-Wolfe, Lynda Stone, Crystal McCall, Sheri Watson and Kim Stone; 12 grandchildren; and three great-grandchildren.

    A documentary about Mr. Stone and the Miami music scene, “Rock Your Baby,” is in the final stages of postproduction, one of its producers, Mitchell Egber, said in an interview. In a clip from the film, Mr. Stone gives a pithy summation of his life’s main focus. “Instead of playing golf or pool,” he says, “I loved to make records.”





    ...
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    ankle biter guedita's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    Cord Jefferson's essay on his mother: https://medium.com/matter/on-kindness-819ce388f976

    5/1: Giegling Showcase @ Oakland
    5/2: Sleater-Kinney @ The Masonic
    5/8: Talker, Patricia @ f8
    5/28: Refused, White Lung @ GAMH
    5/29: Spoon @ The Fox Theater, Oakland
    5/29: Max Cooper EMERGENCE @ PW
    5/30: Neutral Milk Hotel @ Pappy & Harriet's
    6/2: Kiasmos ft. Olafur Arnalds, Rival Consoles @ The Independent

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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    Aw shucks, any parent who instills those prime values in their children, and then reinforces them with their own actions, should get a nice letter like that from thier children.

    And, that's how most men were back then. We have come a long way in a short period of time.

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    Hunting has been part of our society since the first Europeans came over and shot buffalo and Native Americans and whatnot.
    ---
    Sappy

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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    So there are two great pieces in the Feb. 2 edition of The New Yorker: one, a look at the problematic regulatory structure of US food inspection/safety and the lawyer that's been particularly influential in pressuring companies to account for their misdeeds in addition to how the entire infrastructure likely needs to be reworked, the other an expose of Albuquerque's police unit, which has one of the highest rates of officers killing civilians in the country.

    But also I came in here to post this avocado article: http://www.theatlantic.com/health/ar...vocado/385047/

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  8. #578
    Coachella Junkie chairmenmeow47's Avatar
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    there are always people who wonder why women don't step forward in sexual assault cases. this is probably why. jesus.

    http://www.azcentral.com/story/lauri...rape/22813107/

    AG's Office: Raped teacher should have known better
    Laurie Roberts, columnist | azcentral.com 8:51 a.m. MST February 4, 2015

    The Arizona Attorney General's Office is asking for dismissal of a lawsuit filed by a teacher who was brutally assaulted and raped after being left in an unguarded prison classroom with a convicted sex offender.

    The AG's reasoning is essentially this: the woman knew she was in a prison, so what did she expect?

    No, seriously. That's the reasoning.

    "Plaintiff is an ADOC (Arizona Department of Corrections) employee who routinely worked at the prison complex," Assistant Attorney General Jonathan Weisbard wrote in his motion to dismiss. "By being placed in a classroom at the complex, the officers were not placing Plaintiff in any type of situation that she would not normally face. The risk of harm, including assault, always existed at a prison like Eyman."

    Weisbard made his pitch on Monday to U.S. District Court Judge Susan Bolton, who is pondering the matter.

    Hopefully, she's pondering a nice strongly-worded response to AAG Weisbard.

    The woman, who works for DOC as a teacher, was scheduled to give a GED exam to seven sex offenders housed at the Arizona State Prison Complex-Eyman on Jan. 20, 2014.

    Normally, such tests are given in the visitation room, which is monitored by security cameras and corrections officers. But on that day, because of a special event, she was sent to an unmonitored classroom, handed a radio and told to use it if there was any trouble, her lawsuit says.

    The test lasted 90 minutes during which not a single corrections officer checked on her or radioed to ask if everything was OK. As they finished, six inmates left, returning unescorted to their dorm. One, Jacob Harvey, lingered.

    According to the lawsuit, the 20-year-old inmate grabbed her from behind and took her to the ground as she struggled. He then stabbed her repeatedly in the head with a pen, choked her, slammed her head into the floor, tore away her clothes and raped her, the lawsuit says.

    The teacher told investigators she screamed for help, but no one came. After the attack, Harvey tried to use her radio to call for help but it was tuned to a channel the guards didn't even use. Eventually, Harvey allowed her to phone for help.

    "As a result of the brutal rape and assault, (the woman) suffered physical injuries, great fear for her life and well-being and severe and traumatic emotional distress with which she continues to struggle to this day," her attorney, Scott Zwillinger, wrote.

    She sued, questioning why a civilian employee with no means of defense would be left to fend for herself in a room full of sex offenders.

    And why she would be left alone with an inmate who less than a year before had been sentenced to nearly 30 years after a daytime home invasion in which he beat and raped a Glendale woman in front of her toddler.

    And why such an inmate would be classified as medium security and thus in her classroom.

    Weisbard, in his motion to dismiss, wrote that the teacher can't prove that corrections officials knew she was being put into a dangerous situation.

    "Plaintiff wants to create an artificial impression that the ADOC officers knew she was in danger but she did not know," he wrote. "It makes no sense. Of course, if Plaintiff did appreciate the danger of her situation, as an employee, she could have done something about it."

    Translation: it's her own darn fault.

    Certainly, not the fault of trained corrections officials who downgraded this guy's status then left him in an unguarded room with a civilian teacher armed only with a radio tuned to the wrong channel.

    Sure, it was all her fault.
    Quote Originally Posted by malcolmjamalawesome View Post
    It's when we discuss Coachella that we are at our collective dipshittiest.

  9. #579

  10. #580
    zeezus amyzzz's Avatar
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    Oh God. Context. That sucks for her. I'm sure she was just ironically joking. BAD JOKE for sure, but ugh.
    Quote Originally Posted by RandyInHeaven View Post
    So it turns out Jesus is a LOT like cr***

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    Member gazercmh's Avatar
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    This is too long for me to read closely right now, but the bits I skimmed were pretty cool.

    Shoegaze: An Oral History

  12. #582
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    The scene that celebrates itself! Yes I remember reading that term a lot back in the 90s in the Brit magazines! Ah, memories.
    Quote Originally Posted by RandyInHeaven View Post
    So it turns out Jesus is a LOT like cr***

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    A Black Mississippi Judge's Breathtaking Speech To 3 White Murderers

    FEBRUARY 13, 201512:54 PM ET
    NPR Staff

    U.S. District Judge Carlton W. Reeves, for the Southern District of Mississippi. Courtesy of cleoinc.org hide caption
    Here's an astonishing speech by U.S. District Judge Carlton Reeves, one of just two African-Americans to have ever served as federal judges in Mississippi. He read it to three young white men before sentencing them for the death of a 48-year-old black man named James Craig Anderson in a parking lot in Jackson, Miss., one night in 2011. They were part of a group that beat Anderson and then killed him by running over his body with a truck, yelling "white power" as they drove off.
    The speech is long; Reeves asked the young men to sit down while he read it aloud in the courtroom. And it's breathtaking, in both the moral force of its arguments and the palpable sadness with which they are delivered. We have decided to publish the speech, which we got from the blog Breach of Peace, in its entirety below. A warning to readers: He uses the word "******" 11 times.

    One of my former history professors, Dennis Mitchell, recently released a history book entitled, A New History of Mississippi. "Mississippi," he says, "is a place and a state of mind. The name evokes strong reactions from those who live here and from those who do not, but who think they know something about its people and their past." Because of its past, as described by Anthony Walton in his book, Mississippi: An American Journey, Mississippi "can be considered one of the most prominent scars on the map" of these United States. Walton goes on to explain that "there is something different about Mississippi; something almost unspeakably primal and vicious; something savage unleashed there that has yet to come to rest." To prove his point, he notes that, "[o]f the 40 martyrs whose names are inscribed in the national Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery, AL, 19 were killed in Mississippi." "How was it," Walton asks, "that half who died did so in one state?" — my Mississippi, your Mississippi and our Mississippi.

    Mississippi has expressed its savagery in a number of ways throughout its history — slavery being the cruelest example, but a close second being Mississippi's infatuation with lynchings. Lynchings were prevalent, prominent and participatory. A lynching was a public ritual — even carnival-like — within many states in our great nation. While other states engaged in these atrocities, those in the Deep South took a leadership role, especially that scar on the map of America — those 82 counties between the Tennessee line and the Gulf of Mexico and bordered by Louisiana, Arkansas and Alabama.

    Vivid accounts of brutal and terrifying lynchings in Mississippi are chronicled in various sources: Ralph Ginzburg's 100 Years of Lynching and Without Sanctuary: Lynching Photography in America, just to name two. But I note that today, the Equal Justice Initiative released Lynching in America: Confronting the Legacy of Racial Terror; apparently, it too is a must-read.

    In Without Sanctuary, historian Leon Litwack writes that between 1882 and 1968 an estimated 4,742 blacks met their deaths at the hands of lynch mobs. The impact this campaign of terror had on black families is impossible to explain so many years later. That number contrasts with the 1,401 prisoners who have been executed legally in the United States since 1976. In modern terms, that number represents more than those killed in Operation Iraqi Freedom and more than twice the number of American casualties in Operation Enduring Freedom — the Afghanistan conflict. Turning to home, this number also represents 1,700 more than who were killed on Sept. 11. Those who died at the hands of mobs, Litwack notes, some were the victims of "legal" lynchings — having been accused of a crime, subjected to a "speedy" trial and even speedier execution. Some were victims of private white violence and some were merely the victims of "****** hunts" — murdered by a variety of means in isolated rural sections and dumped into rivers and creeks. "Back in those days," according to black Mississippians describing the violence of the 1930s, "to kill a Negro wasn't nothing. It was like killing a chicken or killing a snake. The whites would say, 'niggers jest supposed to die, ain't no damn good anyway — so jest go an' kill 'em.' ... They had to have a license to kill anything but a ******. We was always in season." Said one white Mississippian, "A white man ain't a-going to be able to live in this country if we let niggers start getting biggity." And, even when lynchings had decreased in and around Oxford, one white resident told a visitor of the reaffirming quality of lynchings: "It's about time to have another [one]," he explained, "[w]hen the niggers get so that they are afraid of being lynched, it is time to put the fear in them."

    How could hate, fear or whatever it was transform genteel, God-fearing, God-loving Mississippians into mindless murderers and sadistic torturers? I ask that same question about the events which bring us together on this day. Those crimes of the past, as well as these, have so damaged the psyche and reputation of this great state.
    Mississippi soil has been stained with the blood of folk whose names have become synonymous with the civil rights movement like Emmett Till, Willie McGee, James Cheney, Andrew Goodman, Michael Schwerner, Vernon Dahmer, George W. Lee, Medgar Evers and Mack Charles Parker. But the blood of the lesser-known people like Luther Holbert and his wife, Elmo Curl, Lloyd Clay, John Hartfield, Nelse Patton, Lamar Smith, Clinton Melton, Ben Chester White, Wharlest Jackson and countless others, saturates these 48,434 square miles of Mississippi soil. On June 26, 2011, four days short of his 49th birthday, the blood of James Anderson was added to Mississippi's soil.
    The common denominator of the deaths of these individuals was not their race. It was not that they all were engaged in freedom fighting. It was not that they had been engaged in criminal activity, trumped up or otherwise. No, the common denominator was that the last thing that each of these individuals saw was the inhumanity of racism. The last thing that each felt was the audacity and agony of hate, senseless hate: crippling, maiming them and finally taking away their lives.

    Mississippi has a tortured past, and it has struggled mightily to reinvent itself and become a New Mississippi. New generations have attempted to pull Mississippi from the abyss of moral depravity in which it once so proudly floundered in. Despite much progress and the efforts of the new generations, these three defendants are before me today: Deryl Paul Dedmon, Dylan Wade Butler and John Aaron Rice. They and their co-conspirators ripped off the scab of the healing scars of Mississippi ... causing her (our Mississippi) to bleed again.

    Hate comes in all shapes, sizes, colors, and from this case, we know it comes in different sexes and ages. A toxic mix of alcohol, foolishness and unadulterated hatred caused these young people to resurrect the nightmarish specter of lynchings and lynch mobs from the Mississippi we long to forget. Like the marauders of ages past, these young folk conspired, planned, and coordinated a plan of attack on certain neighborhoods in the city of Jackson for the sole purpose of harassing, terrorizing, physically assaulting and causing bodily injury to black folk. They punched and kicked them about their bodies — their heads, their faces. They prowled. They came ready to hurt. They used dangerous weapons; they targeted the weak; they recruited and encouraged others to join in the coordinated chaos; and they boasted about their shameful activity. This was a 2011 version of the ****** hunts.

    Though the media and the public attention of these crimes have been focused almost exclusively on the early morning hours of June 26, 2011, the defendants' terror campaign is not limited to this one incident. There were many scenes and many actors in this sordid tale which played out over days, weeks and months. There are unknown victims like the John Doe at the golf course who begged for his life and the John Doe at the service station. Like a lynching, for these young folk going out to "Jafrica" was like a carnival outing. It was funny to them — an excursion which culminated in the death of innocent, African-American James Craig Anderson. On June 26, 2011, the fun ended.
    But even after Anderson's murder, the conspiracy continued ... And, only because of a video, which told a different story from that which had been concocted by these defendants, and the investigation of law enforcement — state and federal law enforcement working together — was the truth uncovered.
    What is so disturbing ... so shocking ... so numbing ... is that these ****** hunts were perpetrated by our children ... students who live among us ... educated in our public schools ... in our private academies ... students who played football lined up on the same side of scrimmage line with black teammates ... average students and honor students. Kids who worked during school and in the summers; kids who now had full-time jobs and some of whom were even unemployed. Some were pursuing higher education and the Court believes they each had dreams to pursue. These children were from two-parent homes and some of whom were the children of divorced parents, and yes some even raised by a single parent. No doubt, they all had loving parents and loving families.

    In letters received on his behalf, Dylan Butler, whose outing on the night of June 26 was not his first, has been described as "a fine young man," "a caring person," "a well mannered man" who is truly remorseful and wants to move on with his life ... a very respectful ... a good man ... a good person ... a lovable, kindhearted teddy bear who stands in front of bullies ... and who is now ashamed of what he did. Butler's family is a mixed-race family: For the last 15 years, it has consisted of an African-American stepfather and stepsister, plus his mother and two sisters. The family, according to the stepfather, understandably is "saddened and heartbroken."
    These were everyday students like John Aaron Rice, who got out of his truck, struck James Anderson in the face and kept him occupied until others arrived. ... Rice was involved in multiple excursions to so-called "Jafrica", but he, for some time, according to him and his mother, and an African-American friend shared his home address.

    And, sadly, Deryl Dedmon, who straddled James Anderson and struck him repeatedly in the face and head with his closed fists. He too was a "normal" young man indistinguishable in so many ways from his peers. Not completely satisfied with the punishment to which he subjected James Anderson, he "deliberately used his vehicle to run over James Anderson — killing him." Dedmon now acknowledges he was filled with anger.

    I asked the question earlier, but what could transform these young adults into the violent creatures their victims saw? It was nothing the victims did ... they were not championing any cause ... political ... social ... economic ... nothing they did ... not a wolf whistle ... not a supposed crime ... nothing they did. There is absolutely no doubt that in the view of the court the victims were targeted because of their race.

    The simple fact is that what turned these children into criminal defendants was their joint decision to act on racial hatred. In the eyes of these defendants (and their co-conspirators) the victims were doomed at birth. ... Their genetic makeup made them targets.

    In the name of White Power, these young folk went to "Jafrica" to "fuck with some niggers!" — echoes of Mississippi's past. White Power! ******! According to the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, that word, ******, is the "universally recognized opprobrium, stigmatizing African-Americans because of their race." It's the nuclear bomb of racial epithets — as Farai Chideya has described the term. With their words, with their actions — "I just ran that ****** over" — there is no doubt that these crimes were motivated by the race of the victims. And from his own pen, Dedmon, sadly and regretfully wrote that he did it out of "hatred and bigotry."

    The court must respond to one letter it received from one identified as a youth leader in Dylan Butler's church — a mentor, he says — and who describes Dylan as "a good person." The point that "[t]here are plenty of criminals that deserve to be incarcerated," is well taken. Your point that Dylan is not one of them — not a criminal ... is belied by the facts and the law. Dylan was an active participant in this activity, and he deserves to be incarcerated under the law. What these defendants did was ugly ... it was painful ... it is sad ... and it is indeed criminal.

    In the Mississippi we have tried to bury, when there was a jury verdict for those who perpetrated crimes and committed lynchings in the name of White Power ... that verdict typically said that the victim died at the hands of persons unknown. The legal and criminal justice system operated with ruthless efficiency in upholding what these defendants would call White Power.

    Today, though, the criminal justice system (state and federal) has proceeded methodically, patiently and deliberately seeking justice. Today we learned the identities of the persons unknown ... they stand here publicly today. The sadness of this day also has an element of irony to it: Each defendant was escorted into court by agents of an African-American United States Marshal, having been prosecuted by a team of lawyers which includes an African-American AUSA from an office headed by an African-American U.S. attorney — all under the direction of an African-American attorney general, for sentencing before a judge who is African-American, whose final act will be to turn over the care and custody of these individuals to the BOP [Federal Bureau of Prisons] — an agency headed by an African-American.

    Today we take another step away from Mississippi's tortured past ... we move farther away from the abyss. Indeed, Mississippi is a place and a state of mind. And those who think they know about her people and her past will also understand that her story has not been completely written. Mississippi has a present and a future. That present and future has promise. As demonstrated by the work of the officers within these state and federal agencies — black and white, male and female, in this Mississippi they work together to advance the rule of law. Having learned from Mississippi's inglorious past, these officials know that in advancing the rule of law, the criminal justice system must operate without regard to race, creed or color. This is the strongest way Mississippi can reject those notions — those ideas which brought us here today.

    At their guilty plea hearings, Deryl Paul Dedmon, Dylan Wade Butler and John Aaron Rice told the world exactly what their roles were ... it is ugly ... it is painful ... it is sad ... it is criminal.

    The court now sentences the defendants as follows: [The specific sentences are not part of the judge's prepared remarks.]

    The court has considered the advisory guidelines computations and the sentencing factors under 18 U.S.C. § 3553(a). The court has considered the defendants' history and characteristics. The court has also considered unusual circumstances — the extraordinary circumstances — and the peculiar seriousness and gravity of those offenses. I have paid special attention to the plea agreements and the recommendations of the United States. I have read the letters received on behalf of the defendants. I believe these sentences provide just punishment to each of these defendants and equally important, I believe they serve as adequate deterrence to others and I hope that these sentences will discourage others from heading down a similar life-altering path. I have considered the sentencing guidelines and the policy statements and the law. These sentences are the result of much thought and deliberation.

    These sentences will not bring back James Craig Anderson nor will they restore the lives they enjoyed prior to 2011. The court knows that James Anderson's mother, who is now 89 years old, lived through the horrors of the Old Mississippi, and the court hopes that she and her family can find peace in knowing that with these sentences, in the New Mississippi, justice is truly blind. Justice, however, will not be complete unless these defendants use the remainder of their lives to learn from this experience and fully commit to making a positive difference in the New Mississippi. And, finally, the court wishes that the defendants also can find peace.
    ...
    Whiskey Sour

    2 oz blended whiskey
    Juice of 1/2 lemon
    1/2 tsp powdered sugar
    1 cherry
    1/2 slice lemon

    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

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    ankle biter guedita's Avatar
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    ^ I hope that speech starts getting included in college course syllabi.

    If you are a fan of Key and Peele, Zadie Smith's written an incredible piece on their relationship and comedy in the upcoming edition of the The New Yorker. http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/20...another-mother

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    The murderers who perpetrated the above racial attack were sentenced between to between 7 and 50 years in federal prison. That's a great speech, and I have to seriously wonder just what motivated people to come out and say these were "good" kids who should not be incarcerated. They weren't. They were the worst kind of people, the stuff of nightmares.

    Thankfully they'll have plenty of nightmares to contend with in the coming years. And I'm a criminal defense attorney.

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    Coachella Junkie fatbastard's Avatar
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    AyAyron
    Whiskey Sour

    2 oz blended whiskey
    Juice of 1/2 lemon
    1/2 tsp powdered sugar
    1 cherry
    1/2 slice lemon

    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

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    Coachella Junkie fatbastard's Avatar
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    Room rates skyrocket for Coachella music festival

    By Hugo Martin

    March 24, 2015, 4:00 a.m.



    With less than two weeks until the Coachella music festival, the traditional last-minute panic to book someplace to stay is pushing hotel room prices up an average of more than 70%.


    Expect to pay $343 a night for a room at a cramped one-star hotel near the annual two-weekend bash at the Empire Polo Grounds in Indio. And that's one of the best remaining deals within 10 miles of the event.


    Critics complain that the festival, officially named the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, has morphed from a free-spirited mixture of sun and song into an exclusive orgy of spending and celebrity sightings.


    The spring-break-inspired blowout always triggers a mad rush for lodging, with fans booking hotel rooms and vacation homes well before the musical lineup is announced in January. Just to get into the festival, the cheapest one-weekend pass costs $375 — they're long sold out — and resort-quality VIP packages run many hundreds more.


    For the first time, artist and Indio resident Randy Friedman is renting out his three-bedroom home within walking distance of the festival grounds, charging $1,000 a night.


    "You can make so much money, so I said why not give it a try," he said. "Everyone is just flocking here. You can just name your price."


    As of Monday, the average price of home rentals for the first weekend, April 10-12, was $669 a night, according to data analyzed by home rental site Tripping.com.


    That's down 16% compared with this time last year because so many local homeowners wanted to get their piece of the lavish festival spending.

    ------------
    FOR THE RECORD

    March 24, 11:43 a.m.: An earlier version of this article neglected to say that the information on home rentals was provided by Tripping.com.

    ------------


    But the rate is still 65% higher than average year-round rates for area home rentals. And most of the homes have been snatched up, with only 12% of the rental properties within 10 miles still available for the first weekend.


    Among the priciest homes still available is a four-bedroom house about two miles from the festival grounds. It has a loft, a saltwater pool with a Jacuzzi, a theater room with arcade games and a pingpong table in the garage. It is renting for $3,000 a night plus a $250 cleaning fee.


    Prices like these prompted Eric Nadera, a 26-year-old analyst with a frozen food company, to reserve a campsite with a couple of friends for the festival.


    During past trips to Coachella, the Diamond Bar resident has spent between $600 and $1,000 to stay at hotels during the festival.


    "My past experiences were outrageously overpriced," he said.


    Besides camping, Nader said he would advise music fans who plan to attend the festival to book a home — at least one year before the festival.


    On social media sites, one of the most popular topics for Coachella fans was hotel price.


    "Hotel prices for Coachella will officially make me bankrupt," @Santanasky posted on Twitter.


    "I thought Coachella tickets were expensive....The hotel prices are killing me," tweeted @m1k3car50n.


    A forum on the Coachella.com website generated 210 pages of comments about camping and lodging for the music festival, with subject titles like "need somewhere to crash" and "anybody want to adopt 2 girls for camping?"


    Music fans who want to book a hotel can still find many rooms available, but the prices will be steep.


    For the first weekend of the festival, hotels within 10 miles of the festival still have up to 33% of their rooms available, according to the travel website TripAdvisor.com.


    But the average nightly rate for those available rooms is $569 a night, compared with $330 for the rest of the year, according to the website, for a 72% increase. At this time last year, no rooms were available within 10 miles of the festival grounds.


    Within 30 miles of the festival, the available rooms average $473, about 75% over the average last year of $270 a night, according to TripAdvisor.


    "Hoteliers are naturally raising rates for that event," said Lynn Mohrfeld, president of the California Hotel and Lodging Assn. "That's simple supply and demand."


    Unlike home rentals, the supply of hotels near the music festival has not grown substantially. In fact, an 89-room Holiday Inn Express that opened in Indio last year was the only new hotel in that city in more than a decade.


    At the Best Western Date Tree in Indio, general manager Aaron Segal said he is renting rooms for $300 to $400 a night during the festival, about 3.5% higher than during the same time last year. The same rooms rented for between $119 to $179 in the three months before the festival, he said.


    The Best Western was 100% booked by October of last year, and he expects that about 80% of those who stay at his hotel during the festival this year will book a room for 2016.


    "The rates have gone up a little bit," he said. "They can only go so high before it becomes insane."
    ...
    Whiskey Sour

    2 oz blended whiskey
    Juice of 1/2 lemon
    1/2 tsp powdered sugar
    1 cherry
    1/2 slice lemon

    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

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    so there's more to Ancestry.com than the ads you see on TV?
    Ancestry.com is quietly transforming itself into a medical research juggernaut
    For about three years, it’s been collecting and analyzing genetic information through a service called AncestryDNA, and in the process, quietly asking consumers if they’d be willing to share their data with Ancestry for research. To date, it’s banked more than 800,000 samples from customers all over the world, rivaling the database of Google-backed genetics-analysis company 23andMe, which boasts about 900,000 samples.

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    Tenancingo: the small town at the dark heart of Mexico’s sex-slave trade
    Local crime families have grown rich by luring poor, uneducated girls into fake romances, then forcing them into prostitution

    Huge, gaudy houses are scattered among ordinary, modest homes in Tenancingo in the state of Tlaxcala, which is a hub of sex trafficking. Photograph: Zuma Pres/Alamy
    Saturday 4 April 2015 19.05 EDT Last modified on Saturday 4 April 2015 19.13 EDT

    María Méndez was a live-in domestic worker when she met Ricardo López on her way to the supermarket. She was 15, from a poor family in the state of Mexico, and had been cleaning houses since the age of eight. He was a cocky, charming 16-year-old from Tenancingo, a small town in the neighbouring state of Tlaxcala. He courted her, promising marriage and a home. She desperately wanted it to be true, and within a fortnight moved with him to Tenancingo.

    At first López and his family treated her well, but it quickly turned violent. “He sent me to work as a prostitute in Tijuana, Guadalajara, Torreón, Aguascalientes – all over the country to make money selling my body,” Méndez, now 59, told the Observer. “He said the money was to buy land so we could build a little house, but it was all false, even the name he’d given me was false. He made me live a very sad, ugly, desperate life. I was so ashamed.”

    Méndez, like thousands of other vulnerable women in Mexico, was hoodwinked by a family of traffickers in Tlaxcala, the country’s smallest state just two hours south of Mexico City. This is a deeply religious place, where the indigenous Nahua people united with the Spanish to conquer the mighty Aztecs, but which over the past five decades has transformed into an unlikely hub of human trafficking.

    In the US, five of the 10 “most wanted” sex traffickers are from Tenancingo, where Mendez’s nightmare began. Trafficking networks rooted in Tlaxcala are the biggest source of sex slaves in the US, the state department has said.

    This improbable crime story began in the 1950s after industrialisation, when working-age men returned home from neighbouring states to find few opportunities beyond badly paid factory jobs. Pimping and trafficking, which they had seen while working away, was a way to get ahead, and many set up small, family-run sexual exploitation rings.
    Some of the most powerful Tlaxcala families are believed to collaborate with Mexico’s most feared cartels.

    In 2008 trafficking was detected in 23 of Tlaxcala’s 60 municipalities. By last year this had increased to 35, according to research conducted by local human rights group the Fray Julián Garcés centre, which has identified six “red zones” where sexual exploitation is most concentrated. (A government official told the Observer there were no red zones in Tlaxcala).

    In Tenancingo, population 11,000, the presence of organised crime is breathtaking. Huge, tawdry houses are scattered among rows of ordinary, modest homes. Everyone knows who own the big houses, though, despite pressure from NGOs to improve transparency and target trafficking proceeds, there is no public land registry. The mansions look like fancy multilayered wedding cakes adorned with sculptured eagles, lions and swans. The grandiosity continues into the cemetery, where tombs are ornate and extravagant – not unlike those seen in villages of the northern state of Sinaloa, from where many of the drug cartel leaders hail.

    In Tenancingo’s main square, a striking colonial church towers over taco stalls and shoe-shiners, a typical lunchtime scene apart from the new white Mustang and Chevrolet parked beside a bar. Here, a group of men in their 30s and 40s sporting designer jeans and T-shirts knock back cold beers under the piercing afternoon sun. Two police officers are stationed less than 150 metres away.

    “These guys are the archetypal padrotes [pimps],” said Emilio Muñoz, a Tlaxcala native and director of human rights and gender violence at the Fray Julián Garcés centre.
    “They are the ones who go to other states looking for vulnerable girls to trick – that’s their role in the family business. Everyone knows who the padrotes are, it’s no secret, and it’s the same families who sponsor religious festivals and community events. They operate with almost complete impunity. Trafficking has become so normalised and rewarding that young people look up to them.”

    One in five children here wants to be a pimp when they grow up, according to a 2010 University of Tlaxcala study. Two-thirds of youngsters surveyed knew of at least one relative or friend working as a pimp or trafficker.

    Tenancingo is the most notorious hotspot in Tlaxcala, with some estimates suggesting one in 10 people are actively involved in trafficking. But 16km north in Axotla del Monte, population 2,000, the concentration of garish mansions and flashy sports cars is even more conspicuous. This is another red zone, home to loyal, close-knit communities. In December 2012 the army was drafted in after police officers were almost lynched trying to detain an alleged trafficking family.

    The old interstate highway connecting Axotla with Tenancingo is lined with cheap hotels. Official notices indicate a few recent closures, but many more are under construction. Around midday, young women wearing fake leather trousers and platform heels emerge near the hotels to attract the attention of passing motorists.

    It is a wretched scene. The women’s features suggest they come from the poor southern states of Chiapas, Oaxaca and Guerrero, where a large proportion of trafficking victims originate, according to the United Nations Office for Drugs and Crime (UNODC). For most, Tlaxcala is only a pit stop until they are sent to more lucrative locations in northern Mexico and the US.

    In recent years the modus operandi for trafficking throughout Mexico has shifted from kidnap and brute violence towards psychological deception and fake relationships. Poor, uneducated and often indigenous girls and women are dazzled and lured with the promise of jobs or marriage. Most commonly, as in Méndez’s case, women are initially persuaded to prostitute “for love”, in order to help resolve a financial crisis which the trafficking family feigns. By the time they realise and accept they are victims, their “husbands” use beatings and threats against their parents and children – often fathered by the traffickers – to control them.

    “The few successful prosecutions have mainly involved international crime groups, yet most trafficking in Mexico occurs within close family and friends’ circles using rustic methods of seduction which are very difficult to investigate and prosecute,” Felipe de la Torre, UNODC adviser in Mexico, said.

    US authorities have prosecuted several powerful Tlaxcala families, most famously the Carreto clan, who between 1991 and 2004 duped, coerced and trafficked Mexican women into prostitution in New York City.

    It took almost 10 years for one victim, a woman from Guadalajara, to be reunited with her daughter who was left growing up within the Carreto family in Tenancingo.
    “There is a lack of political will and legal sensitivity when it comes to reuniting victims with their children – who are at huge risk of being trafficked or absorbed into the crime family,” said Gretchen Kuhner, director of the Institute for Women in Migration.

    The Tlaxcala government told the Observer that it has jailed 14 people for trafficking-related crimes since 2011 – around 10% of the national total. Authorities have rescued 127 trafficking victims, closed down more than 200 bars, nightclubs and hotels, and conducted hundreds of awareness-raising events, it added.

    There are an estimated 20,000 trafficking victims in Mexico every year, according to the International Organisation for Migration. Tlaxcala has no refuge for trafficking victims.
    Méndez endured 10 years of arrests, humiliation and threats, before finding strength through her faith to stand up to López and stop prostituting herself. “He beat me, threatened to take our children, but I stayed with him because of the shame. I couldn’t bear to tell my family the awful things I had done, or who my husband really was.”
    They are still married, and live together near where the girls are forced to prostitute themselves on the highway. López works in a shop, though his extended family continue trafficking. Méndez added: “These men in their nice cars think money is more important than human dignity, but they are monsters, just like my husband. Sometimes when I see the poor girls I can’t breathe. I pray one day this town can come out of this.”
    ...
    Whiskey Sour

    2 oz blended whiskey
    Juice of 1/2 lemon
    1/2 tsp powdered sugar
    1 cherry
    1/2 slice lemon

    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

  20. #590
    Coachella Junkie fatbastard's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    In California, the Grass Is Greener at Coachella

    By BEN SISARIOAPRIL 11, 2015

    Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival — one of the country’s biggest and most celebrated music events, drawing up to 100,000 fans a day over two weekends — were finishing preparations for this year’s event.

    As a result, the organizers said, there would be few immediate changes to water management.

    “The die is cast for the next two weeks,” said Paul Tollett, chief executive of Goldenvoice, the concert’s promoter. “Right after the shows, there are some hard decisions to be made, and we’re ready for them.”

    The festival, on more than 600 acres of land that is primarily used as polo fields, takes place on the manicured grass that is the hallmark of this oasislike area near Palm Springs. This year’s festival features AC/DC, Drake, Jack White and more than 160 other acts.

    Concertgoers at the Coachella music festival in Indio, Calif., face no shortage of water, despite the state’s severe drought. Credit Kendrick Brinson for The New York Times

    As the event opened on Friday, its expanses of lawns appeared pristine.


    “It’s pretty shocking how much green grass there is,” one fan, Richard Hefter, 32, said, adding that he had no trouble filling up his portable water pack.

    It was not just the festival grounds that appeared well watered. Throughout Indio and the towns nearby, water fountains and lawn sprinklers flowed freely, and swimming pools glistened in the desert sun. In Palm Springs, daily per capita water use is 201 gallons, more than double the state average.

    To meet the governor’s order, the State Water Resources Control Board has issued preliminary guidelines for local water agencies, asking some — including the Coachella Valley Water District, which includes the festival grounds — for cuts of up to 35 percent.

    Alexander Haagen III, a real estate developer who owns the Empire Polo Club, one of the properties on which the Coachella festival takes place, said in an interview that the grounds received almost all of their water from the Colorado River and not from underground aquifers, which he said were the primary focus of the governor’s order.

    “Right now, we are not really having a problem,” Mr. Haagen said.

    For concertgoers, water seemed a minimal concern. Serena Jade, an 18-year-old from Los Angeles who was wandering with two friends under the burning late-afternoon sun, said that she had not considered the possibility that there would not be ample water at Coachella this year. The only question was “just how expensive” that water would be, she said.

    At the festival, water bottles sell for $2 — the same price since the event started in 1999 — and refills are free to people who take their own containers and water packs.

    This year, the Coachella festival introduced three permanent bathroom structures, with some 324 stalls and urinals, to supplement its rows of portable toilets. The urinals function without water.

    Both Mr. Tollett and Mr. Haagen said that after the festivals were over — in addition to Coachella, Goldenvoice puts on a country-music event, Stagecoach, on the same spot at the end of April — they would limit the watering of the grounds, letting some of the grass go brown. Mr. Tollett said that some reduction had already happened.

    “We’ll make changes,” Mr. Tollett said, “and at the same time pray for rain.”
    ...
    Whiskey Sour

    2 oz blended whiskey
    Juice of 1/2 lemon
    1/2 tsp powdered sugar
    1 cherry
    1/2 slice lemon

    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

  21. #591
    Member gazercmh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    In case you didn't hear about the guy who was killed after Coachella Saturday night, here's one of the few articles that doesn't have a headline that inaccurately says he was killed AT Coachella.

    Friends mourn Torrey Pines grad killed in Indio.



    A 23-year-old man from San Diego was hit and killed by a train during his trip to Coachella music festival this weekend, according to the Riverside County coroner's office.

    Torrey Pines High School graduate Jannik Andersen was struck by train at railroad tracks near the festival in Indio at 3:05 a.m. Saturday and died about 40 minutes later, according to the Riverside County coroner's office. The Union Pacific Railroad Police is investigating Andersen's death and whether alcohol or drugs were involved.

    Andersen was enrolled at the University of Colorado Boulder. He was not seeking a degree and was considered a continuing education student, university spokeswoman Malinda Miller-Huey said.

    "Whether you knew him for a day or ten years, he had this way of making you feel like you were his best friend," said Emily Heil of Del Mar, a friend who also briefly attended the University of Colorado Boulder and grew up in the same area as Andersen.

    She said Andersen had a large "community of friends" in San Diego and Boulder.

    Andersen was a member of Sigma Alpha Epsilon, said Chris Tuzzio, a close friend and fraternity member at the university in Boulder. He would often go snowboarding in Boulder with Andersen, who referred to it as "shredding and tearing it up in the mountains," Tuzzio said.

    "Honestly, he was the greatest dude ever," he said. "Anytime he brought me around a group of friends he treated me like a best friend."

    Two years ago Andersen planned a camping trip to the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Reserve in Colorado for a group of 14 friends, bringing people together as he typically did, Tuzzio said.

    Heil said a memorial was likely to be held in San Diego this weekend, but plans were not finalized.

    Tuzzio and friends in Boulder organized a memorial for Andersen scheduled to be held at the University of Colorado Boulder Tuesday evening.

    The hashtag #LiveLikeJannik was used to remember his life.

  22. #592
    Coachella Junkie fatbastard's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    Remembering Scott Mason, KROQ Host & Chief Engineer, Friend to All

    Scott Mason was a person who loved life, worked tirelessly and was loyal to a fault. - Richard Blade
    April 20, 2015 2:46 PM



    L-R: Depeche Mode’s Dave Gahan, Scott Mason, Richard Blade, Martin Gore


    by Jay “Lightning” Tilles

    Scott Mason, KROQ Chief Engineer and family member of over 35 years, passed away Sunday morning.

    It’s hard to assemble the words to express just how much Scott meant to KROQ, our family and radio in general.

    Known to long-time KROQ listeners as Spacin’ Scott Mason, Scott was one of the reasons the station is what it is today.

    Scott started in radio at the young age of 14. After honing his skills at various Southern California stations, a young Mr. Mason was hired to run KROQ-FM way back in 1979. Rick Carroll, the station’s program director, hired Scott to be a weekend DJ and Chief Engineer while he was still a teenager. Since that time Scott has worked every airshift on KROQ at one time or another. Scott was even an original host of Loveline with The Poorman, and Dr. Drew.

    Over time, the station grew and so did Scott’s responsibilities. With KROQ eventually purchased by CBS, Scott ended up overseeing all things technical for our West Coast stations; and we have quite a few.

    But Scott wasn’t just a DJ and engineer. Scott was a founding father to one of America’s greatest radio stations. He ate, slept and breathed KROQ.

    Hiring interns was just one his many duties. And, like quite a few, I owe my career to Scott. Scott didn’t care about flash or glitz. He was at KROQ to make it the best radio station he could and he welcomed those with equal passion.

    Scott was thoughtful and caring, always willing to go out of his way to help anyone in need, which he did frequently. His love of public service turned into Openline, a syndicated weekend show dedicated to serving the Los Angeles and Orange County communities. Scott was even a Boy Scout leader.

    We, the KROQ family, and radio fans everywhere, owe Scott a great debt.
    ...
    Whiskey Sour

    2 oz blended whiskey
    Juice of 1/2 lemon
    1/2 tsp powdered sugar
    1 cherry
    1/2 slice lemon

    Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.

  23. #593
    The Encyclopedia bmack86's Avatar
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    Default Re: Articles 2.0

    LA Times has an interesting article about the California ballot initiatives to legalize marijuana. The article (which I have posted below) is led by this ridiculous photo of Gavin Newsom:



    Two thoughts:

    1) Joanna Newsom is related to Gavin, and has refrained from commenting on his political career so as to not offend her family. That is all I need to know about the dude.

    2) He looks like he is saying, "All hail the new flesh."

    With Californians facing a possible vote next year on whether to legalize the recreational use of marijuana, supporters are scrambling to craft a measure that can win broad public support.So far, three groups have submitted proposed marijuana ballot measures to state election authorities. It will take months to sort out whether any of them —— or others not yet proposed — gain final approval for next year’s ballot.

    To varying degrees, Colorado, Washington, Oregon and Alaska have already legalized recreational pot. But the scale of legalization in California would be far bigger, and it would affect a vast existing patchwork of marijuana crops and medical dispensaries.

    A forum Tuesday at UCLA laid out a panoply of challenges the sponsors face in addressing concerns about stoned drivers, pesticides in marijuana crops, the persistence of a black market for the drug and much more.

    “There are a lot of questions that do need to be asked,” said Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom, who was presiding over the first public airing of the issues by a marijuana policy commission that he formed with the American Civil Liberties Union of California.

    It’s not yet clear, Newsom said, whether competing groups of marijuana advocates can unite behind one November 2016 ballot measure that would address public safety concerns adequately enough to survive campaign attacks.

    At UCLA, one of the main concerns raised by law enforcement authorities was the lack of adequate technology to test drivers for marijuana impairment. With alcohol, they said, a precise gauge of blood-alcohol level corresponds directly to the risk of causing a traffic accident.

    But there is no accepted standard for measuring how much marijuana impairs driving skills.

    “The science is not there yet with marijuana,” said Ventura Police Chief Ken Corney, first vice president of the California Police Chiefs Assn., which opposes pot legalization.

    Medical marijuana advocate Kristin Nevedal of Americans for Safe Access said states need to take into account that impairment lasts longer after ingesting marijuana in food than it does after smoking it — and either way, traces remain in the body for days or weeks.

    Paul Gallegos, a former Humboldt County district attorney, raised concerns about environmental damage caused by marijuana growers diverting water from streams, as well as their unregulated use of pesticides and fertilizers that poison wildlife.

    Although the state’s multibillion-dollar marijuana industry does “immense” environmental harm, he said, state oversight could diminish the damage.
    “We need to see this problem as an opportunity to develop a regulatory scheme,” Gallegos said.

    Newsom himself raised concerns about marijuana taxes being set so high that they perpetuate the black market.

    Harlan Grossman, a former Superior Court judge in Contra Costa County, suggested a solution: tougher penalties for pot growers and dealers who circumvent the state’s new licensing system.

    Grossman also suggested state lawmakers, or authors of any marijuana ballot measure, address other questions: Would existing marijuana possession and sale cases be dismissed? Would arrest warrants be recalled? Would penalties from prior convictions still be due? Would old offenses be expunged?

    In 2010, Californians rejected a ballot proposal to legalize marijuana, but public opinion has shifted since then. A recent Public Policy Institute of California poll found that 53% of state residents believe pot should be legal.

    One measure of the momentum for a new statewide vote on marijuana was a $1-million contribution made last week by Weedmaps Media to its election campaign committee, Californians for Sensible Reform. Weedmaps is a website with a guide to marijuana availability around the world.

    For Newsom, a candidate for governor in 2018, the run-up to another statewide marijuana vote has offered a platform for publicity that can be hard to come by for a lieutenant governor. His commission is planning three more hearings around the state.

    At UCLA, he said he hoped California doesn’t wind up with marijuana stores on every street corner, pot smoke wafting across park playgrounds, and weed-laced gummy bears and jelly beans tempting children.

    To that end, he said, the panel will try to ensure that a stable legal structure is set up for recreational pot use.

    “I’m interested in evidence,” Newsom said. “I’m not an ideologue about this.”
    Quote Originally Posted by canexplain View Post
    Remember Hitler? I don't but here we are again .. cr****

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