Buffalo
In
Briefs
Mad Cow Madness - According to niagarabuzz.com,
69-year-old Joanne Gerber of Lockport 
died
June 15th of Creutzfeld-Jakob Disease, the human version
of Mad Cow. The diagnosis was made via spinal tap at Millard Fillmore
Suburban before her death. The rogue prions riddling Gerber’s brain
are considered indestructible and infectious, prompting a neurosurgeon
to refuse to perform an autopsy. Niagara County Health Dept. officials
would neither deny nor verify the diagnosis, citing privacy law. One
item from the story
had BEAST editor Al Uthman spouting conspiracy theories about
manganese poisoning being the real cause of Mad Cow [see “Swallowing
the Bull,” BEAST #40], namely that the Health Department reportedly
asked the victim’s family if she “had been exposed to any chemicals,
or if anyone close to her was in the landscaping business. One of
her sons owns a landscaping business.” Manganese is a component of
many fertilizers and plant foods, according to our paranoid editor,
but then maybe ground-up “downer” cattle is too. At any rate, it’s
a panic-inducing story, but don’t “drop the Gordita” just yet—one
relieving factor in the story is that several of Gerber’s venison-eating
Pennsylvania farm clan have also died of “brain cancer,” so there’s
a good chance the deer back home were the source of the brain-wasting
disease she contracted. Still, those Tempeh burgers are starting to
look better and better.
Not In My Back Yard, Damnit!
- Delta
Sonic came under fire when suburbanites recently 
learned
the carwash giant plans on moving in at the corner of Main Street
and Union Road ASAP. People unloaded on Williamsville Mayor Ray Hazlett
at a recent public meeting and he promised to look into their concerns.
Sure, right after he gets his car washed. The media went wild, like
it’s Wal Mart muscling in on a small town, and they need to be reminded:
it’s the suburbs, you idiots! There needs to be something on every
corner, a fast food shack, a gas station, donut joint, strip mall,
whatever, and it’s got to have big fucking signs all over the place
and a massive parking lot in order to attract people and traffic like
the proverbial flies on dogshit. What sort of neighborhood Nazis wouldn’t
want clean cut, nice kids washing, waxing, and drying every car in
Williamsville? Well, anyone within earshot of one of these monstrosities,
inhaling dirty cars all day and shitting out a constant flow of shiny,
happy people. It’s like living next door to a Nascar race—only worse,
it’s yuppies in sports cars and SUVs. Protesting big companies is
certainly in vogue right now, but let’s face it, Williamsville is
hell, just get it over with. Let the developers pave every inch under
and slap up their slick little housing communities, shopping malls
and office buildings and turn the land into a free flowing, hardened
gunk of concrete, steel, glass, and plastic until every deer, fox
and wild turkey has been flattened under Hummers full of doughy crackers.
Age Old Torture - Lori Thomas, an elementary school
teacher in Rochester was suspended 
with
pay for the rest of the school year for washing a ten-year-old boy’s
mouth out with soap after he made a “nasty” sexual remark to a third
grade girl. Apparently Ms. Thomas took the boy to the nurse’s office,
put “a single drop” of liquid soap on his lips and “immediately” rinsed
it out, enough discipline to keep the little animal cowed for the
rest of the day. Ms. Thomas goes on summer vacation early this year,
and hopefully won’t subject herself or the school district to a frivolous
but winnable lawsuit. Here’s a little advice for any of you college
kids going into public school teaching, three simple rules that will
carry you through to retirement: Never turn your back on the kids,
keep the number for security handy at all times, and don’t ever try
to teach little vermin something they should have learned at home;
it’s a police matter by the time they get to you.
Allentown - We go every year, and every
year it’s the same thing, hot sun, cold beer, and lots 
of
people looking at a lot of junk between tiny oases of the real McCoy,
depending on who’s beholding what. This year’s big seller was a parrot-head
signpost with colorful little pointers to the Tiki Bar, Margaritaville
and so on; a vile piece of pop-art crap we saw way too many buffoons
lugging home. Maybe that’s because we can only stomach about six seconds
of a Jimmy Buffett song before looking for a window to jump through.
We’re not there for the art, though, we’re there for the women and
the booze and they were both plentiful. The cross-dressers were out
in force too, only they weren’t fooling anyone (next year try and
shave or something, fellas). Bums were everywhere, especially if you
were standing on a corner guzzling can after can of beer—they were
quite the charmers, and none too shy about garnering the cans. What
sucks is that we got more attention from the bums than the ladies,
why is Fate (alcohol) such a bitch? Late on Saturday afternoon a pair
of Jesus Freaks came down Allen Street with banners, screaming something
about sinners repenting. It was pure comedy; they couldn’t take two
steps without being accosted by drunken Buffalo art fans. Let’s hope
one of those guys wasn’t the actual reincarnation of Jesus, because
we said some really nasty shit to them about how we dug all the violence
in The Passion of the Christ.
Art Or Anthrax Again - Well it’s pretty clear by now
Steve Kurtz wasn’t brewing bio-
weapons
in his basement, but that didn’t stop government prosecutors from
hauling him and seven other teachers and artists before a Federal
Grand Jury. Aside from beakers and petri dishes, what alarmed authorities
most was that Kurtz had put together “a mobile DNA extraction laboratory
for testing food products for possible transgenic contamination,”
as an art exhibit for the Massachusetts Museum of Modern Art. Kurtz
belongs to the Critical Art Ensemble (CAE), “An artists' collective
that produces artwork to educate the public about the politics of
biotechnology,” according to their website. It’s heavy shit and they
like to use human DNA and E.coli as a form of creative expression.
CAE is currently raking in huge worldwide donations due to all the
publicity, which is getting even bigger with six of them refusing
to testify. It’s a great story to loosen up pocketbooks: the US government
clamping down on artists and teachers in its rabid War on Terrorism,
trampling all over the Constitution in order to keep us free. It’s
driving people in other countries crazy with hate and there should
be tons of dough left over after paying the lawyers. We’d like to
get in on this action if possible, maybe it’s time we write an Urban
Terrorist Manual; that’s sure to land us in front of a grand jury.
Nobody was making weapons or weapons delivery systems so no one’s
going to jail; the issue is not whether their art is really art or
advanced chemistry. Despite international attention, there are no
pictures of anything any CAE artists have done on TV, in the paper,
or even on their own website. If it were Picasso, his work would be
slapped all over t-shirts, coffee mugs, and bumper stickers, instantly
recognizable to anyone. Guess you’ll just have to peek into a university
lab or watch “CSI” to get an idea what this stuff looks like. Hey,
as long as Wegman’s has one of those contamination things in back
checking the chicken, it’s all good with us!
Giambra vs Naples - It’s great when politicians
go to war, even better when one of them gets a taste of their own
medicine. Joel Giambra rose to power as Buffalo Comptroller, a mad
dog fighter willing to take on any person or department where he uncovered
fraud in his crusade to bring honest, responsible government to the
city. We all know that was just an act now, but Giambra was earnest
and convincing back then, he fooled us and he fooled us good. Too
bad for him karma’s come round full circle. In criminal-speak, there’s
a lot of “heat” on the 
Giambra
administration right now, and “heat” is not good. On top of the Highway
Department scandal, County Com
ptroller
Nancy Naples blew the whistle on Giambra’s half million dollar kickback
to buddy Jim Spanos at Buffalo Office Interiors, prompting an ongoing
investigation from State Attorney General Elliot Spitzer. Giambra
hates her with all his heart and then some. Then Jack Quinn decided
not to seek reelection to Congress, and who better than the inquisitive
Naples to fit the bill? Republicans are falling all over each other
to get behind her, all except the County Executive. The former Democrat’s
party affiliation depends on who he’s pissed off at, and in this case
Giambra’s made it loud and clear he’d back a Chippewa transvestite
before the ballbuster trying to ruin his career. Of course she would
like his endorsement, Naples said, she is, after all, only doing her
job making sure nobody steals public money. Speaking of which, the
county is borrowing and spending money at a freakish rate. Naples
warned county spendthrifts they’re blowing through the Tobacco Settlement
money at an alarming and possibly illegal rate. The Tobacco Settlement
of 1998 gave the county a little over $220 million dollars with the
stipulation (but not a mandate) that it be spent on healthcare. That
money was invested and expected to grow to $256 million by 2009, but,
surprise, surprise, 87% of it’s been spent (in the form of loans on
the principal). Guess what? It didn’t go to health care, it went to
other things, so-called “long-term betterment projects” like new buildings,
remodeling, “infrastructure”, computers and, of course, overpriced
furniture. So over the last six years, $222.7 million got pissed away
in a preposterously shortsighted manner, the same way pigs squeal
over slop and never stop feeding until it’s all gone. One place the
money never went to is those Medicare costs Giambra’s been whining
about for so long, and isn’t that odd? Or did he spend so much on
healthcare we have to mortgage ECMC? It’s a big shell game with this
guy. When the Giambra years are behind us the true financial horror
will come to light, and we’ll have only ourselves to blame. The tobacco
settlement was one of the greatest scams in history. $4 billion to
New York State alone, and the only thing they’ve done besides steal
it is tax cigarettes to the sky and pass a ridiculous smoking ban.
Oh well, no big deal; we just owe a shitload now on free money. That’s
what happens when you trust politicians, they nail you good. Which
brings us back to the issue at hand; Giambra would be smart to at
least make the gesture of supporting Naples—he won’t like it, but
she can’t investigate him from Washington and that’s good for his
business. Then again, he’s finished in local politics, nobody in their
right mind would elect him anything but lawn boy anymore, and his
ego could force him to go out like a real son of a bitch.
Buffalo Business 101- Back in April we wrote about
Carl Paladino and his “unnamed downtown businessmen” suing the Seneca
for running off to Cheektowaga after being shown ridiculous sites
in Buffalo for their casino and told take it or leave it. The Memorandum
of Agreement they signed gave the Seneca an option out which they
wisely used, otherwise they wouldn’t have signed it, but our partisan
judicial system is pretty predictable. We can only assume Judge Joe
Makowski was reading the serial numbers off stacks of treasury notes
and not the actual agreement which clearly states the Seneca could
veto Buffalo for any reason (e.g. our politicians had their thumbs
up their asses, peddling crap a used car salesman wouldn’t touch).
The good judge issued an injunction against the Seneca from proceeding
on their plans in Cheektowaga and nobody is smiling bigger than Paladino.
He owns lots of abandoned buildings and warehouses down around the
HSBC Arena; the only logical place besides the waterfront off Fuhrman
Boulevard to locate a casino in downtown Buffalo that could be set
up to handle the traffic. It’s worth it for him to hire an expensive
law firm and sue before a friendly judge in order to force the Seneca
to either buy his land or greatly increase its value. A guy like Carl
Paladino doesn’t own vacant buildings for nothing; Ellicott Development
prides itself on occupancy rates and paying customers, not uninhabitable
shitholes. Mayor Masiello said he was “very happy” with Makowski’s
decision. He would have preferred a game of one on one with Ricky
Armstrong to decide the issue, but a State Supreme Court ruling will
work. All this has done is “completely [alienate] the Seneca Nation,”
according to Armstrong. You’d think Indians would be used to having
guns pointed at their heads. This whole thing is about ego and dollars;
Paladino has invested a lot of time and money into this scheme. He’s
greased many a politician to get to this point and they all have a
huge stake in the deal. The question is, is there any way the Seneca
might be induced to build a casino in Buffalo after this?
Britney Spears Bust-
It’s not her rack we’re talking about, although those beauties are
on
our mind an awful lot. The little vixen totally dissed the region
by canceling her June 26, concert out at Darien Lake, blowing our
plans to get some great footage for clandestine internet porn sites.
Britney apparently blew her knee out and now we won’t have a chance
to rub elbows (or other body parts) with hot little girls showing
as much skin as we see regularly over at the Colonie Lounge. We had
everything planned, the beer, the weed, the GHB, it was going to be
so goddamn perfect and now it’s all ruined. Local perverts can be
found mourning at the nearest adult movie store, feverishly thumbing
through the Barely Legal titles for a fresh face. In
less disappointing news, rock hag Courtney Love blew off the lame-o
ArtVoice street festival, which was conveniently located in the Chippewa
district far, from our thankfully quiet and unmolested neighborhoods.
Love was too busy chugging painkillers, doing lines and assaulting
women with flashlights to show up for her well-promoted headlining
spot at our paper of recoil’s annual suckfest. Look on the bright
side, AV; Love’s absence probably made all of the Nirvana-wannabe
bands at your festival breathe a little easier. At least she hasn’t
“accidentally” left Frances Bean on top of the tour bus yet.
Goodbye Olmstead - Ahhh, finally, the deal is
struck! Plenty of back and forth maneuvering enabled 72 workers in
the Buffalo Parks Department to be absorbed by the county or shuffled
somewhere else in the city’s bloated workforce, thus saving the Almighty
Budget. We no longer have to worry about administering a hundred and
some pesky parks anymore, even if it was a much-touted system of green
spaces designed by a landscaping legend, which the Masiello administration
poured millions of dollars into sprucing up. You can rest easy, however;
the parks will still be run the same way they’ve always been run:
by lazy, cigar chomping, fat guys who spend half their day either
taking a dump or building one up. We can’t help but be underwhelmed
and here’s why: as dedicated city hackers, Delaware Park is our home
golf course; it’s cheap, wide open, and you can take your shirt off,
perfect for our game. Two Sundays ago we went out and the above mentioned
cigar-chomping fat guys were all over the course, mowing, making tons
of noise, running to the Port-a-Potty, and really fucking up our pathetic
game. The course is in the best shape it’s ever been in, astonishingly
enough, with actual grass on the tees as well as brand new benches
and ball washers with markers at every hole (except for #14 where
some punks ripped out the bench). It’s really symbolic of Buffalo
and why we’re in such a financial mess: there’s no money for it, but
they’re still running up overtime and spending like there’s no tomorrow.
We shouldn’t complain, but come on, somebody has got to get realistic
about this kind of shit.
Buffalo Baby’s Brain Battle
- “Baby
Joe” Mesi’s last fight was much worse than we originally 
thought
(and we originally thought the last four minutes were horrific). In
little more than one round, his opponent managed to connect enough
head blows to cause three separate subdural hematomas on his brain,
along with the trace of a fourth, according to an MRI taken less than
a month after the match. Yikes! Can anyone actually imagine what it’s
like being punched that hard in the head? No, we can’t, because we’d
be dead. “Baby Joe” may have gotten knocked on his ass three times
by that Russian bastard, but he did not stay down; he dug deep into
himself, deep into his heart and soul, and he got back up. He danced
with that Russian, and he hung on till the final bell. He won the
fight! He won it for himself, for his family, for his Italian heritage,
for his friends and his neighbors, for Buffalo, for New York, for
the United States. Joe Mesi hung in there and persevered like a true
American against that commie scum, and now he’s finished as a boxer
for refusing to submit his medical reports to the Nevada State Gambling
Commission. It’s a damn shame, because his brain shriveled back to
normal within three short months of the beating, and let’s face it,
the guy’s gotta make a living. Just thinking about him stepping into
the ring makes our brain weak. The Mesi camp is pushing forward, looking
for a way to get the suspension lifted and is distressingly unavailable
for comment. Don’t kill your meal ticket, guys; he’s still good for
free drinks and blow down on Chippewa.
