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Lackawanna Soccer Blues

by Barry Zellen

Abdulsalam Noman is the coach and director of the Lackawanna Yemen Soccer Club, a not-for-profit community organization founded in 1975 to serve the community’s youth through sports, dedicated to providing “a safe, healthy environment in which children can learn teamwork and sportsmanship.” Its clubhouse, located in a renovated commercial building bought from the city at public auction in 2002, provides kids with a place to hang out, with table tennis, pool and foosball in the basement, a large-screen TV for watching movies and television shows on comfy couches upstairs, and a computer room where kids can work on homework and develop their computer skills. On the walls are T-shirts, photos and various memorabilia from past soccer matches, and along one wall are dozens upon dozens of trophies celebrating the team’s many victories over the years.

Getting a Grip

Dreaming About Revolutions in an Age of Sweatshops

by Michael I. Niman

I’ve been wading through data on productivity, debt and income disparity for the past few days trying to figure out if the US qualifies yet as an undeveloping nation—a sort of first-world-to-third-world freefaller. I lost my concentration, however, when the shopping season suddenly started early and with a vengeance. Thanksgiving, it seems, is now simply the day before Black Friday. It’s a holiday where we pig out and eat like there’s no tomorrow—because tomorrow we won’t have time to eat, and the day after we won’t have money to eat. It’s a day to study hundreds of pages of newspaper ads and carefully map out shopping strategies.

Letters to Artvoice

In response to Matthew Ismet Takim’s letter (“Letters to AV,” Artvoice v6n47)claiming his list of scholars disputing the genocide were of the highest repute, it was interesting to see that the list of names he gives can be found published in the same exact order all over the internet by many sources. It may be suggested that Mr. Takim did not compile this list of names himself, and therefore I wonder if he’s read the historians he lists as authorities.

News of the Weird

by Chuck Shepherd

■ As an alternative to burial, cremation is no longer green enough, say environmentalists, because it releases smoke and mercury, and thus the industry is considering “promession,” in which the body is frozen in liquid nitrogen to minus-320 degrees (F) and then shaken until it disintegrates into powder. For green burials, the United States has at least six cemeteries that require biodegradable casings and for bodies to be free of embalming chemicals. The Forever Fernwood cemetery in Mill Valley, Calif., goes even further, according to an October Los Angeles Times story, banning grave markers, but, said the owner, “We issue the family a Google map with the GPS coordinates” so they can find their loved one.

See You There

Artvoice Boom Bash IV

BalletMet's The Nutcracker

by K. O'Day

Paramore

by Brad Deck

Frontline: Showdown with Iran

by Geoff Kelly

Calendar Spotlight

One World Tribe

Haiku

Battle of the Bands

Witchcraft

Lenny Revell

Theaterweek

by Anthony Chase

Last week was a week of crisis at Studio Arena Theatre. While rumors flew, very little accurate information was available.

Listings

Movie Times

Now Playing

On the Boards

Film

Soul Music: August Rush

The Stuff of Nightmares: The Mist

Film Reviews

The Bobs Are A-Changin'

by Ted Pelton

Tightening the Net: No Country for Old Men

by M. Faust

Left of the Dial

Tracy Morrow & The Magi Chippie: Someday You Will Find a Home

The Exit Strategy: City of Microphones

Book Reviews

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye: The Barbara Payton Story by John O'Dowd

by Wheez Von Klaw

A t first the sanitation workers thought it was a bag of trash. It was only when the two men got a closer look did they realize what they had thought was a pile of garbage scattered beside the dumpster they had come to empty was, instead, the body of a woman lying on her side. It seemed as if she had been ‘dumped out of the sky.’ She was still breathing.”

Poetry

The Emergence

by Jared Schickling

If the day were to pass

tomorrow would come, bursting from your chest

it would be like the thousand nights in your skin

Fine Dining

A French Revolution

by Lauren Newkirk Maynard

The word “bistro,” especially this time of year, makes us think of hearty country stews, simple roasts and rustic desserts—of an intimate, unpretentious Parisian café serving generous portions and affordable wines.

Chew On This

by Peter Koch

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, this week’s column is sort of like a potluck with no rules. You never know what your guests might show up with—could be mouth-watering desserts or blood pudding and Twinkie weiner sandwiches. In other words, there’s no rhyme or reason to it all, but you can bet it’s about food.

You Auto Know

Caddy Putt$ Onto the Green

by Jim Corbran

Don’t look out your window, but there’s probably a guy parading around with one of those “The end is near” signs. How else to explain the fact that one of Detroit’s most visible signs of overindulgence, the Cadillac Escalade, is going green next summer? That’s right, all of you athletes, musicians and just plain showoffs: You can now have your cake and eat it too. Or something like that.

Free Will Astrology

by Rob Brezsny

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): A while back I asked my readers, “What conditions would you need in your world in order to feel you were living in paradise?” I’ll report to you how one Scorpio responded, since it’s very apropos to your immediate future. “My utopia,” wrote Sandra Boyd of Vancouver, “would require me to be desired, loved and satiated amidst messy order and cockeyed perfection.” I urge you to create that exact set of conditions, Scorpio. Get out there and cultivate the funny logic, wild discipline and chaotic organization that will help ensure you’ll be fiercely adored.

Ask Anyone

We live on a big piece of property with a woods, and every year we invite people to come cut Christmas trees on our land. It’s something my aunt and uncle used to do, so I thought it would be nice, sort of old-fashioned style. But in the last couple of years, it’s gotten out of hand. People have told their friends, and now we have lots of people we hardly know who come and cut down trees. It’s not exactly that we’re running out of them, though we will. Anyway, I don’t know how to stop people from coming. Am I supposed to stand by the road with a shotgun? Should I disinvite our friends and wait until everyone else gets the hint? What if they never do? I never thought I’d be the kind of person to be strict about trespassing.