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Iron Man voted for Reagan.

Look guys, I have many, many problems with the way our government has handled things in the G.W. Bush era. I have been as harsh a critic as anybody from the very beginning on almost every policy the dumbass has enacted. That said, Harry Vaughn's terrible review of Iron Man sounded like it was written by some hyper-liberal, whiney little douchebag who's far too impressed with himself and his perception of "post 9.11 American destruction" ... blah blah blah, loser. This guy's political beliefs need to be separated from his critical writing because that review was total horseshit. Is it a fun movie? YES. Is it perfect? NO. Are we a great country? YES. Are we perfect? NO.

Get over yourself, Harry, and focus on the film, not your political agenda.

Worst.

Review.

Ever.

REGARDS,JD

Like a can o' sardines

Thank you so much for your piece on "Packed Prisons" (Feature, 5.7.08). I was very impressed with this article. Thank you especially for recognizing the racial disparity and reporting on it. Yes, prisons are packed because they're big business now, a $60 billion and growing cash cow. With each newspaper's contribution in getting the word out, though, perhaps we can do something about the issue of punishing people who are ill and treat them instead, or we're really a doomed society. We're already on our way as it is. Thanks again, and again.

ANONYMOUS

VIA EMAIL

We're sorry we made you feel stupid, uh, we mean "challenged."

I started reading your article on prison, up to the point where you used the PC phrase, "people of color." In my mind, I did the universal motion of jerking off and moved on to Savage Love. Nobody wants to read PC terminology bullshit, and it makes everyone feel stupid in the process. Psssst ... black people are OK with being called black. Or "African American."

ANONYMOUS

VIA EMAIL

Errata: In the "Packed Prisons" feature last week, we erroneously quoted Amy Reichbach saying, "[Students] can get expelled for misbehavior, like disorderly conduct." It should have said "arrested," rather than "expelled." We also said "Any student facing criminal charges ... can be suspended." Any student facing felony charges may be suspended; there is no parallel provision for students facing misdemeanor charges. Because disorderly conduct is a misdemeanor, a student generally wouldn't be expelled for it, though he might be arrested (Boston School Police have powers of arrest). We apologize for the error.

If poets were cowboys, James Tate would be The Man with No Name. It would be the spaghettiest western ever; his shadow would fall across the saloon door and everything inside would go quiet. Everyone would become really interested in their drinks or their cards, or, in extreme cases, just the floor beneath their feet. Maybe there'd be a gunfight, but probably not. He'd most likely leave quietly, in his own time, after which everyone would start breathing again.

Tate's new book, The Ghost Soldiers, is frankly astonishing. It's like watching someone pitch a perfect game. Each poem is animated by and structured around the same few elements. The collection is at once betrayed, confused and outgoing. Many of the poems involve the theme of schizophrenic authority, the endless adjustments and self-corrections that recall equally communist purges and more recent American revisionism. "By the time I got into [writing The Ghost Soldiers]," says Tate, "things had gotten way too serious in the world. Some of the poems took a serious bent and aimed at things in one way or another—of course, the war. When I say the war, obviously I mean the war in Iraq, but it doesn't come out as that in the book; Iraq is never mentioned, or anything like that." Many of the poems can be read as extended metaphors for life in today's world, with all its moral challenges.

Tate says the book has no specific agenda. "When I go to write, I almost never have any idea at all. I sit there for usually an hour and a half before I put a word to paper. I don't know where it's going. I have a couple sentences in mind, and I go from there. I'm not really in control—I just follow it."

At the same time, he resists what must be an enormous urge to simply rage and vent. In each poem, however wild or absurd, is a feeling of extreme honesty—: Tate never confuses or insults the reader gratuitously. Asked whether the book reflects his personal beliefs, he replies, "I don't have any belief at all, as far as I'm concerned. It's all in the work."

JAMES TATE

WED. 5.21

BROOKLINE BOOKSMITH

279 HARVARD ST., BROOKLINE

617.566.6660

7PM/ FREE

BROOKLINEBOOKSMITH.COM

In a purely visual sense, Speed Racer, with its bright and blinding cartoon colors, is a visceral and awe-inspiring feast for the eyes. The all-encompassing blue screen universe that mirrors the anime show on which the film is based, is a delectable combination of sugary CGI imagery and live-action performances. Andy and Larry Wachowski, the directors behind the Matrix trilogy, have, within five minutes of the film's astonishing opening sequence, blown Robert Rodriguez and his stilted, stale Spy Kids and Sin City efforts out of the water. Speed Racer is based in an entirely artificial world that, for once, pulls audiences into its shiny, technological setting instead of keeping us at arm's length. Time and space, reality and pastiche are indiscernible in practically every frame of the movie's exhausting 135-minute running time. There are moments, usually while the star driver, Speed (Emile Hirsch) is racing full throttle through flashy and elaborate racetracks, that take on a majestic, almost surreal quality. The overall effect of its style feels at once kitschy and strangely beautiful.

The Wachowski brothers clearly invested an outrageous amount of time and energy into Speed Racer's groundbreaking visual palette. So much so that they seem to have completely forgotten to concoct a remotely engaging storyline with characters interesting enough to stand up against the film's aesthetics.

The plot, if you can even call it that, involves Speed and his super square family members fighting against conglomerates trying to commodify Speed's talent by turning him into a soulless sponsor for their racing products ... or something. It's rather difficult to follow any of Speed Racer's fragmented plot developments because the dialogue is so dull and self-important, it hardly ever warrants a morsel of our attention. Even worse is having to watch experienced actors like John Goodman and Susan Sarandon spew out cardboard lines like, "Car racing is an art!" while trying to maintain a sense of dignity and purpose.

The Wachowski brothers have made a beautiful shell of a film that is as confident and striking in its visual tone as it is vacant of any sense of warmth or believability.

--AMC Loews Boston Common, Regal Fenway Stadium, AMC Chestnut Hill, Fresh Pond, Showcase Cinemas Revere

I'm a girl who'll take a good beer over almost anything. I could be crawling out of Death Valley, dehydrated, nearing my demise ... I'd still take a refreshing IPA over water, given the choice. And when I say "good" beer, I mean it. Don't even try to hoist some flash-pasteurized, watery, lasts-till-doomsday, domestic dog piss over on me. I want a double, imperial, smoked, oaked, oatmeal mocha ... something. I want a brew that has taste, character and a good head on its shoulders.

Wish I knew more men with those qualities.

The other day a coworker, a dude, got bent out of shape when I started craving a hoppy brew. Why was he undone? I thought it was because the clock hadn't struck four yet. But no, it was because I'm a girl. "I just wouldn't have pegged you for a beer person," he shrugged, tactfully leaving out, "what with your vagina and all."

I know. Girls are NOT supposed to like beer. We are supposed to like cocktails and wine coolers and little dogs that fit in our purses. It's so unexpected when we do like beer that some guys trip over themselves when they meet us mythic creatures. The problem is, when we figments of muddled male imagination come into the light, we are in fact, frightening. Apparently, it's intimidating to meet a woman with advanced taste buds who won't flash the bar after two drinks.

Men in bars—the ones who start talking to me because they think the book I'm reading is just a prop—are often disgustingly pleased with the fact that I have a beer in my hand and not something pink with decorative fruit. The sneer widens when they see it's a stout, nothing "lite." The conversation always begins with, "So what are you drinking?" The "little lady" is implied. It always ends with, "How did you get into beer?"

What they really want is a female version of their best dude. Except in this fantasy, the engineered super-woman doesn't drink High Life or punch holes in the wall when drunk, but instead will both watch the game and give blow jobs on demand. Naturally, they quickly lose interest in me.

Guys, just as I am not a slut when I dress sexy, not a lesbian when I dismiss your clumsy advances and not a prissy-britches just because my shoes match my purse, I'm not a dude in disguise when I pass over the wine menu for the draft list. I know it's hard to handle, guys, but there are lots of us out there who have good boobs and like good beer. It's not just a dude drink.

Ladies: It's not just a dude drink. Forget the expensive, fizzy drinks with made-up names. Forget light, low-carb swill. Show these guys what you're made of. It's not unladylike to know what ESB means.

Garth Jennings seems to be a Brit with a fascination for other cultures. You can see it in most of his work so far: directing an REM video in 2001 for "Imitation of Life" that made ordinary Americans at a picnic look like strange creatures from another planet, and then, four years later, in the big screen version of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

His latest, Son of Rambow, is a fast moving, truly funny film about identity and the loss of innocence, but there's another level to it—a subtle underlying theme about how foreign influences have affected the culturally isolated Brits. Standing in as a metaphor for the British Isles is a strict little boarding school, where Lee Carter (Will Poulter), a delinquent kid, is secretly filming his own version of a Rambo film with a camcorder. Instead of doing the dangerous stuntwork himself, his plan is to coerce the impressionable Will Proudfoot (Bill Milner), a younger boy whose family belongs to a strict Amish-like religious cult, to do it for him. It turns out that Will doesn't need much convincing. All it takes is for the pop culture-repressed kid to get one glimpse of Lee's bootlegged copy of First Blood, and he is suddenly reborn as a daredevil action hero. Also thrown into the mix is an invasion by the French, something Brits are used to. Here they are in the guise of a colorful group of exchange students that includes Didier Revol (Jules Sitruk) an androgynous pretty-boy rockstar type who instantly becomes a sex symbol to the girls and a role model for the boys.

What makes the film work so well is the extraordinary care and inventiveness with which Jennings has crafted his characters and the natural, unaffected performances he coaxes out of these young, first time actors. The 2 kids first meet in an interesting way. They are both in the school hallway, where Lee has been thrown out of class and where Will is forced to sit while the rest of his classmates watch a video (he's not allowed to view TV of any kind). Apparently, this is a familiar ritual for him, as he marks it by taking a drink from the fountain, keeping it in his mouth and then releasing it into the goldfish bowl in the hallway where he has to wait. Lee throws a tennis ball at his head and the two scuffle.

The detail with the spitting in the fishbowl is the kind of quirky character embellishment that Jennings employs to great effect throughout. Another example is where we see Didier quickly becoming the laconic leader of a gang of boys. This is done with no narrative other than a series of vignettes with minimum dialogue. In one scene they are silently riding bikes together. In another he lines his charges up and has them hold hands and grab a live wire, sending a spark down the human chain that lights his cigarette. As director and writer, Jennings is outstanding, and his mastery of tone and pacing rivals Wes Anderson's work in Rushmore; he never lets his touches of wit come off as self-conscious or forced, he just simply moves on to the next scene.

The film also has a unique look to it. From outstanding cinematography to inspired choices of set pieces like an abandoned nuclear power plant, plus amazingly animated fantasy sequences, Jennings has somehow managed to control each aspect of this production, putting his distinctive touch on every detail and yet still somehow remaining invisible enough to let the story carry the audience through. And that's the mark of a great director.

--Kendall Square Cinema, Coolidge Corner Theatre

On Wednesday night, Bostonian Israel supporters gathered at the JFK Library in Dorchester to celebrate the 60th anniversary of Israel's independence. Gov. Patrick spoke, and Treasurer Tim Cahill was in attendance.

"Massachusetts has a long history of support for Israel that has grown into a thriving partnership that is very much alive today," said Kyle Sullivan, a spokesman for Gov. Patrick in an email. "Over the years we have developed strong cultural, economic and educational bonds with Israel and the governor was proud to represent the Commonwealth at this celebration."

Those on the Palestinian side, though, say that these bonds have more to do with political and economic interest.

"We understand that Governor Patrick is doing what he thinks is politically advisable," said Sherif Fam, member of the steering committee of the Boston Coalition for Palestinian Rights (BCPR). "But we do have reservations about commemorating the 60th anniversary of the birth of Israel."

About 50 to 70 members of the BCPR, Jewish Voice for Peace and other peace groups protested the commemoration last Saturday.

The Israeli Consulate did not respond to repeated requests for comment.

Nancy Kaufman, the executive director of the Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Boston, said she was thrilled the governor attended the celebration. "We've been delighted by response, not just from the governor, but also from the House of Representatives, the senate and the business community in their support of Israel and her quest for peace," she said. "Anyone who advocates for a democratic state of Israel, advocates peace for her neighbors as well. I think that's what we were celebrating, but it's only going to happen once people stand up and say they're against terrorism."

Fam and other Palestine supporters feel that to properly celebrate the Israeli anniversary, the US should also honor those killed in the nakba ("catastrophe" in Arabic), the expulsion of around 700,000 Palestinians from Israel after the First Arab-Israeli War in 1948.

"Nakba is as much of an abomination to Palestinians as the Holocaust is to Jews. No one in the corporate media or mainstream politicians will even approach that," said Fam. "Palestine doesn't have any political pull. The Israeli side has had years of influence on Congress and has a lot of money and influence."

Kaufman insists that Israel is not lobbying on Beacon Hill. "It's the local Jewish community that lives and votes here," she says. "I think it's in both Israel's and the state's best interest to trade with one another."

It's virtually impossible to determine what individual donations Patrick's received because of his support of Israel. The Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Boston has a lobbyist on Beacon Hill.

Sullivan didn't respond to queries on the governor's position on Palestine.

Never Forever's characters are not people with whom you can empathize, nor does that seem to be writer and director Gina Kim's goal, at first. But the strength with which I came to care for Sophie Lee (Vera Farmiga) by the film's end was surprisingly overwhelming. An affluent American woman, Sophie is eager to soothe her despondent husband, Andrew (David McInnis), following his father's death and the slow realization of his own inability to conceive a child. At the fertility clinic, she happens upon an illegal immigrant, Jihah, (Jung-Woo Ha) who bears a striking resemblance to her Korean spouse, and ends up propositioning him to impregnate her. Her reasoning is marred by desperation as Andrew tries to kill himself (babies are not Band-Aids, people); and the pressure she feels is only heightened by Andrew's steadfastly religious family, their He-will-provide-type intimidation and her own insecurity with the concept of prayer.

Ultimately, it is this consideration of others before her that has defined Sophie her whole life. It's what her husband cites as the reason he fell in love with her and what motivates her questionable choices throughout the film. Jihah is curious about what Sophie wants from life, and when he asks, it comes across as the first time anyone ever has. Their affair becomes the one thing Sophie selfishly and assertively enters into.

Kim's screenplay reeks of human fallibility, though there are moments I thought the story would have been more apropos for the stage. Some of the momentum and transitional scenes play out artificially—too convenient, too soon. But this is overshadowed by the craft with which Kim builds and layers the tension and the subtly charged performance Farmiga puts forth. We see Sophie develop into a woman no longer defined by her posh lifestyle or the people around her.

And when faced with her hardest choice, Sophie doesn't falter from self-discovery. She prays.

NEVER FOREVER

RATED | R

OPENS | 5.16.08

In his stand-up, Myq Kaplan delivers punchlines at rapid-fire speed. Even before he was the resident assistant in my building, I thought Kaplan was one of the brightest comics in Boston. Now that his master key unlocks my room, I hope he doesn't find the crystal meth until I graduate.

YOU'RE MY R.A. HOW'S THAT GOING?

Go to your room.

WHAT'S YOUR SHOW AT THE COMEDY STUDIO LIKE?

Micah Sherman and I host a show that we call the Micah-Myq Club, named after us, plus the word "club." It's a club you can join by coming to the show. And, that's what joining is. We play music and tell fun words from our mouths.

HOW IS IT WORKING WITH A PARTNER?

I think when I'm with him, I'm more concerned with being in the moment and creating something. The way I do stand-up is I go to open mics and try out 20 new minutes of crappy jokes, and go: "Wait, was that one not crappy maybe?" The thing that I love about comedy most is the process of writing a new bit and learning that it's good by workshopping it and then eventually thinking, "Yup, this is a joke that I have. And now it's boring."

WHAT DO YOU DO AT BOSTON UNIVERSITY?

I'm working on a thesis that involves the MCAS science achievement gap in English language learners and people who already knew English.

THAT DOESN'T SOUND VERY FUNNY.

Some questions are definitely funny-like ...no, it's not.

AS LONG AS YOU'RE HERE, SOMEONE VOMITED ALL OVER THE BATHROOM. ALSO, THE WASHING MACHINE IS BROKEN.

My bad. I was vomiting into the washing machine and things got out of hand. You should have showered earlier.

[Micah-Myq Club at The Comedy Studio, Thursdays, 8pm. 1236 Mass. Ave., Harvard Sq. 8pm/All Ages/$8. 617.661.6507. thecomedystudio.com]

No, that's not a typo. This is a "Bière de Garde" from Flying Dog Brewery. Guard dog. Garde dog. Get it? OK. Moving on ...

The French Bière de Garde ("beer for keeping") style is sometimes referred to as the sister to the Belgian Saison, as both are Farmhouse Ales that are traditionally brewed in early spring (prime brewing conditions) using local ingredients, matured in cool storage and consumed throughout the summer months. They're staple, simple styles—table beers if you will—that are delicate, balanced and refreshingly drinkable, but still quite complex. The major difference between the two, at least in our opinion, is that Saisons tend to be spicy, yeasty and zesty, whereas Bière de Gardes are darker in color, more malty, less hoppy and cleaner in finish. Bière de Gardes are also fairly rare and it's an overlooked style by many brewers and consumers.

Flying Dog's take on the style is brewed with German Pilsner, Belgian Biscuit Malt, Rye Malt, Flaked Wheat and Malted White Wheat, plus French hops grown in the US.

The Taste

Pours a rich, clear golden color, topped with a large, bubbled, foamy lacing with stick. It's not conditioned in the bottle, so decant normally. The nose is yeasty, musty and metallic, with a touch of spice and some green banana pith. Light-bodied with an even consistency and a touch of coarseness on the tongue. Hint of caramel sweetness up front, with vanilla wafer, light granola, mild fruity esters and a gentle hop character that offers an herbal quality to the brew and a soft splash of citrus. Light peppery note in the middle and lager-esque bite. Some lingering sweetness towards the finish, which turns dry and coarse with a note of hay.

Final Thoughts

Every fan of beer should seek this one out and at least give it a try, simply because the style is so rare—we currently list only 124 examples of the style online. Looking to upgrade your lawnmower beer? Here's another reason to try it. The balance and drinkability are high, making for an ideal thirst quencher. It would also fair well with seafood and mild soft cheeses accompanied with some rustic bread and marmalade.

We also recommend checking out the brewery's website for more info, including a video of the brewer discussing the style and Flying Dog's interpretation—the seasonal brew of which is available for a limited time and weighs in at 5.5 percent alcohol by volume.

FOR MORE INFO: FLYINGDOGALES.COM

FOR MORE BEER EDUCATION: BEERADVOCATE.COM

RESPECT BEER.

Of all the great lesser-known groups to come out of the '80s, The Feelies were easily the most collective and least ego-riffic—nearly a brotherhood. Charmingly unassuming, and therefore somewhat anonymous, co-founding guitarists/vocalists Glenn Mercer and Bill Million took more inspiration than influence from groups like the Ramones and Television and came up with their own unique strand of rock & roll: a sparkling kinetic vibe with supreme dynamics, boyish vocals and something called plain prettiness. A sound perhaps best described by the title of their classic 1980 debut, Crazy Rhythms.

"Keeping it real simple and repetitive to the point where as you're hearing it,it's like an art approach ... where you're hearing it in a new way. If you don't present a lot of variables, you detect subtle variations," says Mercer."

A polite and dignified fellow with Lou Reed-style sunglasses, Mercer is pleased but cautious to claim any secrets about his ace 2007 debut solo disc, Wheels In Motion (Pravda). "It doesn't have a central theme; I never write with that in mind. But I guess if I had to pick one recurring topic, it would be dealing with time."

This seems to jive with the general flow of the songs, which range from icy meditations to desert blooms from the '80s underground. And because this is his most autocratic album, Mercer has had to ally himself with more of a singer-songwriter's attitude than ever before. "I wanted to keep the basic focus of the songs being just the vocal and the guitar," he says. The result is something slightly folky with acoustics, shimmery organs and shadowy vocals, most reminiscent of The Feelies' 1985 standout, The Good Earth.

Mercer spent much of the '80s on-and-off again with The Feelies (and later in the '90s with Wake Ooloo), often holding court at Maxwell's in Hoboken, a prized local venue. His repertoire usually includes cover songs and Wheels In Motion is no different. In this case, The Beatles' "Within You/Without You" gets systematically stripped to a pulsing beat and slithery melody with a good measure of detached cool. Mercer doesn't seem to suffer from iconoclasm and embraces the recycled nature of music with a more healthy traditionalist view. "You could draw a certain comparison to folk songs, maybe Mexican folk songs which you could trace to the '50s," he says of the roots of his sound. "Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens had that same kind of strum Pete Townsend picked up on. I'd be turned on by The Who and go back from there."

There's something else to rejoice about. The Feelies' reunion shows are scheduled for July 1st and 2nd at Maxwell's in Hoboken. They will also appear with Sonic Youth at Battery Park on July 4th. And the possibility of a new album? "We've been talking about it, yeah," says Mercer. As fresh and invigorated as he is sounding these days, this would be a very good thing indeed.

GLENN MERCER

W/ WILD CARNATION

A BENEFIT FOR THE

SOMERVILLE HOMELESS COALITION

SAT 5.17

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The night before Hakim Cunningham was released from MCI Plymouth, he lay in his cell unable to sleep. "It was very overwhelming, very scary," he remembers. "You realize you're going back into the world and you have a second chance to make things right. I was thinking 'What if I go out and fail? Are people going to be more apprehensive because I'm an ex-offender, or will they help me turn things around?'"

Cunningham's concerns were well-founded. A 2002 Legislature-commissioned study by the Massachusetts Sentencing Committee found recidivism rates had reached 49.1 percent. The Commission to End Homelessness estimated 16 percent of the 25,500 people released from Massachusetts correctional facilities each year become homeless. Former prisoners must also navigate Criminal Offender Record Information (CORI), the state's rap sheet on anyone ensnared in the criminal justice system.

As the number of individuals arrested and incarcerated swells, so does the abundance of criminal records. In 2003, approximately 29 percent of Americans had a criminal record. Massachusetts keeps 2.8 million CORI on file. Approximately 1.5 million CORI checks are requested annually.

Joe Finn, executive director of the Massachusetts Housing and Shelter Alliance, says people often emerge from prison with little support. "They have to find work and housing, when many of them never had those resources to begin with," Finn says. "Shelters are the one agency that have to let everybody in, so they don't run CORIs. They've become the de facto emergency net for people discharged from systems of care:; mental health institutions, corrections, treatment programs ... "

Cunningham was convicted of possession with intent to distribute a Class B substance and given the mandatory minimum sentence of two years. Joel Pentlarge, of the Criminal Justice Policy Coalition, says mandatory minimums have impact beyond adding years to sentences. "Anybody serving a mandatory minimum is basically restricted to medium security and can never get classified down," he says. "It makes it impossible to get them into work release programs." Work release programs help prisoners who are less than 18 months away from freedom ease the transition to discharge. They work a full-time job, returning to prison or a halfway house after their shift.

"I had no chance for pre-release," Cunningham says. "I was thrown into society." He received some transitional assistance as his release date approached. "They offer a two-day program that helps you get a game plan together. They had a resource directory of information for employment, services, emergency food stamps, vouchers. But some of that was outdated."

Cunningham worked as a room attendant at Boston Park Plaza, until they did a CORI check and fired him. Then he worked at Stanley Steemer, a company less adverse to CORI. He's now a car salesman.

He also got involved with Boston Workers Alliance (BWA), an advocacy group for the underemployed, where he's the job creation director. Aaron Tanaka, one of the group's organizers, recognizes a vicious cycle of imprisonment and unemployment.

"The unemployment rate among black men in Roxbury and Dorchester is about 50 percent," he says. "A lot of young men and women in those areas can't get mainstream jobs and get sucked into crime. Seventy percent of our members are dealing with CORI problems."

The Criminal History Systems Board (CHSB) is the state's CORI keeper, and it has authorized 10,000 employers and housing authorities to access records. Organizations that serve children, the disabled and the elderly have "statutory access," meaning they're mandated to check CORI, but any organization can apply for certification. Certified agencies see all convictions after age 17. Those with statutory access see non-convictions and acquittals.

Last week, Carolyn Resnek trained six employers for certification at CHSB's Chelsea headquarters, explaining antidiscrimination law and translating CORI's confusing language of abbreviations.

"This isn't a hiring tool," Resnek explained. "You have to be ready to hire someone before looking up their CORI. You can't narrow your applicant pool by doing twenty CORI checks."

Resnek touted recent policy reforms, which include mandatory training for all registered employers (trainings are offered weekly), special procedures for identity theft victims and for those who receive someone else's CORI (the system's searched by name and birthday, so this is a fairly common occurrence) and aggressive audits to ensure employers follow procedure.

"It became apparent not everyone understood how to read the document," Resnek says. "So we're requiring agencies be trained every two years in order to access it."

But there are publicly accessible records. Anyone can look up a CORI and get results for felonies in the last two years, misdemeanors in the last year, cases that are still on parol, or convictions that carry more than a five-year sentence. You don't need to be CHSB-certified or trained; you just need a person's name and birthday and $30.

All the basic amenities vital to a recently released prisoner are subject to a CORI check. Most employers run applicants' CORIs, and a clean record is almost essential to getting public housing. Even credit and student loans can be denied due to a CORI.

Matt McCreight, a lawyer with Greater Boston Legal Services, says public housing policies vary, depending on the agency. "If it's section 8, what to do with the CORI is often left to the discretion of the private landlord who accepts government subsidies," says McCreight. "If it's HUD, they generally won't accept anyone with drug-related offenses or violent crimes."

Housing providers and employers are required to tell applicants what aspect of the CORI made them ineligible, and to listen to rebuttals and explanations.

"You have an opportunity for a hearing, but an applicant may get the impression—and it's probably true—that the other person isn't listening," says McCreight.

Fran Fajana, a lawyer with the Massachusetts Law Reform Institute, says it's easy to get out of this requirement. "If the employer doesn't tell you that the reason they're not hiring you is your CORI, due process doesn't apply."

McCreight insists it's a question of liability. "What if they take a chance on someone with a CORI and he re-offends? They're afraid of the headline in the Herald, which will say that the housing authority knew that person had a record," he says. "The judgment call often goes negative, out of caution."

Housing authorities are more likely to accept ex-offenders if advocacy groups promise to advise former prisoners for their first few months of release, shouldering some of the liability.

Anti-discrimination law is intended to protect job applicants with CORI. It prohibits employers from asking about non-convictions or about a misdemeanor that's over five years old. But Fajana says such provisions are outdated.

"The statute says, 'Don't ask certain questions on a form or orally.' But there's nothing that says 'Don't use the information from CHSB.' So are these protections really meaningful, if an employer can still access all this information?" she asks. "Antidiscrimination law was written at a time when there was limited access to CORI. Over the last 15 years or so, there's been a significant movement to expand access to criminal records."

CORI was created by the Legislature in 1972, to computerize records and protect privacy rights by restricting access. Prior to that, criminal records were disseminated freely, so CHSB was created to oversee CORI distribution. At first, access was limited to criminal justice officials, but certification has expanded. In 1990, the Legislature tried to address crime in housing projects by granting public housing authorities statutory access to CORI. In 2002, the Legislature granted statutory access to organizations serving vulnerable populations, including hospitals, schools and retirement homes. A Boston Foundation report found that in 1993, about 2,000 non-criminal justice agencies could access CORI; by 2005, over 10,000 were certified.

Fajana says more limitations on CORI access are needed. "They should at least determine whether there's a connection between the job and the record. If you're applying to be a bank teller, and you've been convicted of larceny, that's a fair concern," she says. "But why can't you work in a daycare if you drove with an expired license?"

BWA is creating CORI-friendly jobs, forming a nonprofit temp agency and green jobs in home weatherization and biodiesel conversion. BWA also seeks contracts with the city of Boston, which has "banned the box" asking if you've been convicted of a felony on civil service applications (they still run CORI checks, but criminal records are addressed later in the hiring process).

"We're trying to create a direct database of contract vendors with the city and employers who wait until they know someone's eligible for a position before checking CORI," says Cunningham. "So far, we've got around 16, but there's probably another 50 or 75 that we're trying to get affiliated with."

Gov. Deval Patrick wants to reform CORI policy. In January, he issued an executive order responsible for most of CHSB's impending changes. It strengthens CHSB's oversight by testing, retraining and doling out sanctions for agencies who violate nondisclosure and antidiscrimination laws. It also changed the Executive Office of Health and Human Services' (EOHHS) hiring policies, which used to require either a letter from a probation officer stating the ex-offender poses no threat, or an evaluation from a mental health professional (the applicant pays the therapist's fee). The executive order mandated the EOHHS' hiring policies be clearer and well-regulated. The EOHHS is finishing its policy revamp now, and cannot comment until they're done.

Terrel Harris, spokesman for the Executive Office of Public Safety, acknowledged the order only changes governmental policies. "Look at it this way," he offers, "if one of the Commonwealth's largest employers no longer automatically turns away a former inmate for a job he qualifies for, other than past incarceration, it puts people to work. We also hope it sets the right example for private sector employers."

Universities are a private sector monolith of employment, and students are appealing to their administrations to change hiring policies.

Alyssa Aguilera is a Harvard junior who got involved in CORI reform through labor organizing. "For the past three years I've been pretty active in labor issues throughout Boston," she says. "CORI was something that kept coming up."

Students at Harvard, Tufts, Brandeis, Roxbury Community College, Boston College and other schools formed a loosely confederated CORI reform network. "We've been doing teach-ins on campus. A lot of students now know 'CORI,' this Massachusetts policy term. And people get behind it, it's not a really hard sell," says Aguilera. "We've been doing phone-ins and call-ins, participating in public rallies."

Aguilera says it took weeks to find out the university's policy. "They use a common application that asks if you've been convicted of a felony," she says. "We're gearing up for a ban the box campaign. Labor relations at Harvard seem interested, especially since the city of Cambridge has already banned the box."

They also support the governor's legislation to reduce the waiting period to seal records. Anyone with a CORI who has remained arrest-free can have their CORI sealed, making a background check yield a "no record" result. Ex-offenders have to wait 10 years for misdemeanors and 15 years for felonies, before getting their records sealed. The governor's bill would change the waiting period to five for a misdemeanor and 10 for a felony.

Many groups, like BWA and the student network, think the legislation doesn't close the waiting period enough. "We're basing our numbers on sociological data," Tanaka says, citing a study from the Florida DOC that found an ex-prisoner who doesn't re-offend for three years after a misdemeanor and seven years after a felony is as likely to get arrested as someone with no priors. BWA will march to the Statehouse on May 22nd to rally for reform more radical than the governor's legislation (Aguilera says many students plan to attend). But unless a special session is called, the governor's bill probably won't move this year, anyway.

A paradox is nestled into the argument for shortening the seal waiting period; those first few years after someone gets out of jail are their most vulnerable to recidivism. Even if CORI were sealed after three years, the ex-offender still must find work and housing with a criminal record.

Fajana sees the catch-22, but she says that safety concerns can't be ignored. "Regardless of where we draw the line, what should happen to this individual while they're waiting? What social services should we be offering to help them get back to mainstream? How much information should employers have access to?" asks Fajana. "I don't have the answers to those questions. But it's something we need to grapple with. I'm not suggesting that employers and housing groups don't have an interest in records. They have legitimate concerns. They don't want to be sued."

Tanaka also acknowledges the paradox, but says the BWA must work within the system. "We have to deal with the political reality of the state," he says. "There's been a history of tough-on-crime politicians in Massachusetts. It's just not politically tenable to say you should seal CORI completely."

On May 5th, bicycles locked to parking meters began to disappear from Comm. Ave. Many of the owners received no notification that the bikes were to be removed, and no notice was left of where to go to claim them.

Nicole Freedman, director of Boston Bikes, a city program that promotes bike riding, could not say if it's legal to lock bikes to parking meters. "I don't want to answer that, because we've been having some problems with BU that might turn the answer upside-down." Boston Bikes' website suggests that owners "Lock your bike in a highly visible area close to pedestrian traffic and streetlights [and] to a large metal immovable object."

Boston University Assistant to the Dean of Students Katherine Hasenauer had sent an email to the BU community that stated, "Beginning on Monday, May 5, 2008, bicycles attached to anything other than an appropriate bike rack will be removed by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. This includes trees, parking meters and benches. This action is being taken to prevent the destruction of the new plantings and items installed during the Commonwealth Avenue Beautification Project." The Commonwealth Avenue Improvement Project is a joint venture between the Massachusetts Highway Department, the City of Boston and BU that has been in progress since 2006. It's scheduled to be finished this fall.

The Office of the Dean of Students later sent out another email. "The university was merely conveying a message sent to us from city officials, and we apologize for the confusion," it said. "Unfortunately, the university has no sway over city policy, including bicycle removal from city property."

But Masha Serdyukova, a BU student who witnessed the removals, says it was BU personnel—not the city—cutting bikes from the parking meters and loading them onto a flatbed truck. "I saw people cutting the lock on a bike, and my friend convinced them to let him lock it up to his bike while we waited for the owner," she says. "A couple of the guys were from McCourt, wearing McCourt hats, but most of them were in BU Facilities Management attire ... They said they were taking them to 120 Ashford Street, and when that filled up they were getting sent somewhere else."

Personnel at 120 Ashford Street said that no bikes were being stored there.

Colin Riley, BU's director of media relations, said that the bike removal program had been stopped. "I'm not sure exactly who was removing them," he said. "It's a moot point. Bicycles are not being removed. People need to appreciate that [the Commonwealth Avenue Improvement Project] is providing many new amenities along Comm. Ave."

BUYOUTS STOPPED gutting the Globe (for now) two weeks ago. Those buyouts were brought on because neither the Globe's parent New York Times Co, nor the Globe itself can figure out how to stop shitting money like a goat that's gotten into a Taco Bell dumpster.

The decimation continued this week, as two of the paper's biggest young names fled for journalistic organs that are failing far less quickly or spectacularly than our beloved hometown daily. From our vantage point, this indicates the paper will continue to suffer all sorts of indignities until the thing is unrecognizable and unrecognizably mediocre. There's no other conclusion we can draw from the departures of Pulitzer winners Charlie Savage and Sacha Pfeiffer. You expect the old guard—Steve Bailey, Jackie MacMullan, Colin Nickerson, Peter May, Thomas Palmer and Michael Larkin—to bite on a fat buyout offer. That's how these things are supposed to work.

But the sight of good young talent running for the exits is certainly not a vote of confidence in the present state of the paper, nor in its future.

Pfeiffer, who won her Pulitzer for work on the Spotlight Team's sexual abuse series, is jetting for a position reporting on health and science for WBUR. That's not some awful PR velvet coffin, but it's also far from being a marquee job in this town. When compared to Pfeiffer's current gig—which carries the potential for making not just news, but real, meaningful change—this new one almost seems like a step down. Except that, thanks to Cambridge's deep-pocketed cat ladies, the 'BUR newsroom will still be around in five years. Clearly, if the same could be said for the Globe, we wouldn't be writing this item right now.

Likewise, Savage's decision to jump to the New York Times is anything but a sign that the Globe will be able to maintain a brawling, enterprising Washington bureau in the face of recent cuts to its national and foreign desks. Savage is one of the country's best young talents. His work, more than anything else coming out of the paper's Washington desk, sustained the Globe's reputation as a national newsmaker in the face of recent, painful cuts. Just a month ago, Boston magazine cited the "peerless" Savage as one of the main reasons the Globe "remains one of the finest dailies anywhere."

Sorry to say, but from the looks of things, anywhere is catching up, and it's catching up quickly.

OR MAYBE NOT? Tim McGuire, the former head of the Minneapolis' Star Tribune, delivered an address on the future of newspapers last week that's been rocketing around that cyber-thing at a great velocity. His advice: You're not all going to die, but most of you are. If you live in some Podunk town, you might be OK. So get a Facebook page.

Newspaper people are wallowing in self-pity and wishing for a return to a yesterday that is gone. It will never exist again ... Some ARE dying. The next several months will likely bring several to the brink of death and some might die. At the same time some medium size and smaller newspapers are going to rock along for a very long time and reward owners handsomely. All newspapers are not created equal and it is naïve to condemn all with the fate of the few ... You have to go ding around Facebook and Myspace. You need to deeply understand the capabilities of your cell phone and go to web sites like Digg and other sites that 17-year-olds tell you are important. All of these innovations have profound implications for our business and its future.

FINALLY, cheers to Time for getting Paul Steiger, the editor who fled the Wall Street Journal ahead of Rupert Murdoch's invading hordes, to write Murdoch's profile in this year's Time 100 issue. But please, Paul, tell us how you really feel: "There is, to be sure, a darker side to Murdoch's influence and legacy. He has at times subordinated the journalism operations he controls to further his own business interests, undermining their credibility if not their long-term profitability. His own test of journalism sometimes seems to be what sells—no less but also no more." Amazingly, revenge also sells—and generates a wicked lot of clicks on your website. Who knew?

It is no secret that the subterranean, industrial gallery-like space of the Beehive [541 Tremont St., South End, Boston. 617.423.0069. beehiveboston.com] is awash with the unique jazzy sounds of live local musicians seven nights of the week. Innovative photos and paintings may grace the walls, but what many people don't realize is that the wine cellar is stocked with a different form of creative expression. Bertil Jean-Chronberg, general manager and wine director, maintains a selection of vino—a curated assortment he refers to as ""art"—designed to gently nudge people out of their comfort zone of California Cabernet or Italian Pinot Grigio.

His hip glasses, distinctive accent and intense-yet-casual conversation style screams French National. Born on a vineyard in Southwest France's Madiran region, Jean-Chronberg has fermented grape juice flowing through his veins. His formative years were spent sampling the world's finest wines, which eventually led him to a career in hospitality. In 1996, after being egged on by friends, Jean-Chronberg competed in the Sommelier World Contest and, after a "five-day nightmare," he found himself in third place. Jean-Chronberg eventually made his way to Boston to help start the Beehive.

The Beehive's wine list is meant to accompany the music, art and food of the establishment. Jean-Chronberg's first order of business is to popularize a style of wine everyone knows, but rarely drinks, in Boston. "Sparkling needs to be seen and enjoyed as a wine," Jean-Chronberg states. His list of 27 sparklers starts in the low $30s and scales into the hundreds, making him the largest buyer of Champagne and sparkling wine in the city. Since his goal is to make the stuff accessible, the value is high and the markup is minimal.

The sparkling wines are very impressive, but what truly draws us to the Beehive is the eclectic still wine list. Jean-Chronberg has all of the elements of a standard list: 10 reds and 10 whites with familiar grapes like Cabernet, Merlot and Sauvignon Blanc gracing the menu. After a closer look, however, you realize this isn't your typical list. "We need to be extremely curious," Jean-Chronberg insists, and this is why his wines are a bit unusual. His Chardonnay from Belle Pente ($48) is from Oregon, not California, and his Sauvignon Blanc hails the little known winery of Bodegas Carrau in Uruguay ($36).

By placing the Lebanese Chateau Kefraya ($49) right next to the Israeli Galil Mountain "Yiron" ($53) on the menu, he renders his own version of art-as-politics. Jean-Chronberg also peppers in selections only super wine dorks would recognize, like the Oremus Mandolás from Hungary ($42) (a dry Tokaji instead of the traditional sweet), the Cambiata Tannat from California ($65) and the Kourtakis "Retsina Kourtaki" made from Savatiano grapes in Greece ($29). Trust us, these are all pretty weird.

"French, Spanish and Italian are boring," Jean-Chronberg declares. If you're going to branch out and try something different, this is the place.

DRINK MORE WINE! FOR MORE INFORMATION: THESECONDGLASS.COM

At the risk of preaching to the choir, it doesn't hurt to rattle off some of the myriad ways that biking helps the environment and city culture: Significant savings of fuel, energy and emissions. Healthy, built-in aerobic exercise. A closer connection with the local community. Your awesome handlebars. Sweet calves. Speed.

Already it sounds like frickin' bliss on wheels, which—with safe road etiquette and, unless you like the sound of crispy human, a healthy slather of SPF—may not be too far off of a description. However, a nascent program has launched in the Boston area that gives even more incentive to ride. With Bicycle Benefits, you receive a discount or freebie at local participating businesses when you ride there and show a BB sticker ($5) on your helmet. You've certainly been leg-pumping long enough to enjoy free ice cream at Picco or 10 percent off at Burritos on Fire. There's also practical niceties ranging from $18 Wednesday haircuts at Barbershop Deluxe to 50 percent off all "cash & pedal" printing at Copy Cop.

Bicycle Benefits evangelist Ian Klepetar, who literally rode to Dig HQ to give all the BB info in person, is currently en route, riding across the country to launch the program in every city he hits. Color us impressed. The official Boston kickoff week runs 5.19-5.23 with plenty of freebies—pizza, Hawaiian shaved ice, PBR, bagels with tofu spread ... get excited.

[Various participating establishments in Boston, Allston/Brighton, Brookline, Cambridge and Somerville. bicyclebenefits.org]

Chances are you probably don't consider Jackson Square (hint: it's on the orange line) a prime destination. Yet the ballyhoo about a few special establishments from folks on Yelp.com inspired us to rethink the area's offerings and brave the trek. And it was amazing.

A jaunt to a class at Diablo Glass and Metal [123 Terrace St., Boston. 617.442.7444. diabloglassandmetal.com] easily scores cool points with that intensely jaded but highly wooable beauty by your side. As Jessica K enthuses, "It's easy to be impressed when you're dipping a pipe into a 2200 degree Fahrenheit kiln and pulling it back out with molten glass that drips like honey." But if you prefer to hang by the sidelines, demonstrations include vino tastings and viewing access to the smoldering glory hole! (No, dirty bird. That's the name of the furnace.)

Round out the excursion down the block at Mississippi's [103 Terrace St., Boston. 617.541.4411. mississippis.com], whose soul food has won the praises of Adrienne T. If the munching mood continues to seize you, Vanessa C leads us to sublime fulfillment of even the worst "cardiac-arrest craving" at Yely's [284 Centre St., Jamaica Plain. 617.524.2204], where the chicharones, tostones and other Latin delights are so phenomenal they're often cleared out by mid-afternoon.

Belly full, check. Now the Greater Boston Bigfoot Research Institute [3035 Washington St., Boston. 617.442.5400. 826boston.org] calls. Created by 826, a Dave Eggers-founded organization aimed to stimulate and cultivate the writing skills of youth, here visitors can partake in a simulated Yeti hunt while peeping unicorn tears, leeches and other oddities that left Kabir H "jaw agape, wild-eyed and fully engorged." Giant crab wrestling makes tutoring much more fun, don't you think?

ADD YOUR TWO CENTS! YELP.COM

Although it was not entirely obvious the point at which I fell in love with this little restaurant, I think a choice moment was when I got home after my meal and a burp tasted reassuringly like bacon. Perhaps not the most poignant reminder of what was a delicious repast of France-meets-the-deep-South comfort, but certainly in line with the evening's sentiment: honest and deeply satisfying eating.

The graces of this six-week old restaurant sharing the name of a Virginian state park—its eclectically welcoming graphic identity marked with letterpress filigree, tiny stars and a fearless red cardinal—owe everything to the collective experience of its four owners: John Kessen (L'Espalier, Sel de la Terre), Chef Barry Maiden (Lumière), Rachel Miller Munzer and Alon Munzer (founders of Rachel's Kitchen). It's very clear they all know what they're doing, and the result is a fine place feeding an underserved residential area—not to mention Boston as a whole—with first-rate food and drink minus stratospheric prices.

The entrance is a cozy one, with a seven-seat wooden bar, two tables for grazing and the bustling kitchen in view. A painted wall lists names of those who contributed money to facilitate the restaurant's opening, a charming neighborly way to say thanks. There's plenty of fine bottles of wine under $30 and many available by the glass, plus brews for every occasion—a half-pint of Ruination IPA on draft ($3), New Grist gluten-free lager ($5), a 40-ouncer of the "Champagne of Beers" ($8). A fearsome assemblage, the cocktails are labeled by number (a bit sterile, but efficient). Trust that the no. 10 ($9), a Mason jarful of Ezra Brooks bourbon, sweet tea and Luxardo limoncello, delivers a swift, hair-sprouting, drawl-tinged kick to the system.

Before long you'll be escorted back into the main dining room, a warm humble space with pale walls, cut-crystal (are those upside-down tumblers?) sconces and paned windows overlooking the quiet street. "This is like being in my kitchen," remarks one of my companions, settling deeper into his seat. Service is relaxed and friendly, with generously crumbed slabs of bread from Framingham's B&R artisan bakery distributed from an arm-slung basket. Pages from Mastering the Art of French Cooking and The Virginia Housewife plaster the walls of the unisex bathrooms, teaching most intimately the finer points of lobster bisque or "how to make yellow pickle."

Despite the modestly sized menu, choosing remains a delightfully agonizing task, but even blind picking can certainly do you no wrong. The warm beef tongue canapé ($3) is the stuff intensely carnivorous dreams are made of, a plump unctuous bite sized to share (you won't, though), cut with savory Gruyère and Dijon. Boiled Virginia peanuts sprinkled with gray sea salt ($3) are a subtly addictive snack ("like Southern edamame," suggests our waitress) and a trio of Chip-In Farm deviled eggs ($4) boasting tiny bacon masts instantly brings me back to summer potlucks growing up in Maryland. Five fried oysters ($13), cornmeal-dusted nuggets bursting with fat briny creatures from the Virginia Chesapeake ("like fresh-oyster balloons," our table concurs), rest upon lightly dressed Tabasco-laced greens. As if completing the pleasure triangulation between mac & cheese and gumbo, shrimp & grits ($9) is a luscious bowlful of saucy, fleshy, creamy pleasure.

The bourbon-braised pork shoulder ($19), impressively smoked in-house, is rightfully the most popular entrée. The achingly tender chunks melt on the tongue, porky juices mingling in a bed of grits, with one perfect rib to complete the spectacle. Weightless French-style gnocchi ($17) is like spring incarnate, mixed with mushrooms, spring peas and Parmigiano. Impeccable roasted chicken ($18) may claim the best sides of velvety jalapeño-green garlic spoonbread and pleasantly bitter young beet greens, closely besting the unabashedly savory and crisped fingerlings alongside the flavorful Painted Hills flatiron steak ($25).

As hard as one could try, I really couldn't find anything amiss at this place. Food good enough to stop conversation and sincere, gracious service—even kindly making up for a sold-out rhubarb sorbet dessert ($6) with a rewarding off-the-menu beer float layered with Ellie's Brown Ale and sorghum ice cream. It's no surprise I recognized both local denizens and industry professionals alike on my visits. A feast at Hungry Mother is one that everyone deserves to partake in.

Rating: ' ' ' ' '

' ' ' ' ' lifetime membership to the Virginia ham club

' ' ' ' ritualistic whole-pig roast

' ' ' nudge of extra cheese in the grits

' ' tepid fried chicken

' porkless collard greens

HUNGRY MOTHER

233 CARDINAL MEDEIROS AVE., KENDALL SQ., CAMBRIDGE

617.499.0090

HUNGRYMOTHERCAMBRIDGE.COM

DINNER: TUE-SUN 5PM-10PM (BAR UNTIL 1AM)

Welcome to the Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails (LUPEC) Boston's corner of the Dig, where our goal is to turn you on to a totally different breed of cocktail.

LUPEC Boston is a classic cocktail society dedicated to breeding, raising and releasing nearly extinct drinks into the wild (aka Greater Boston bars and restaurants). We are 11 cocktail enthusiasts who meet once a month to sample delicious cocktail creations from a bygone era and educate ourselves about the important and virtually forgotten forebroads who sipped them.

In addition to preserving our own personal joie de vivre at monthly meetings, we strive to enhance and improve the lives of Boston-area women through fundraising events for local women's charities. We do this by throwing coed cocktail parties (damn good ones) all over town. Read about them here first.

This column has been conceived as a weekly dispatch designed to educate Bostonians about drinks invented before chemical preservatives made Sour Apple Pucker possible—when every ounce of juice in your cocktail shaker was fresh; when whiskey and gin ruled and cocktails enhanced the natural flavors of spirits, rather than overriding them—drinks that are on the fast track to extinction in this modern era of drinking.

Our mission: to help a new generation of modern drinkers put down their Chocolate Martini and pick up a Pink Lady.

Cin-cin!

PINK LADY COCKTAIL

1.5 ounces gin

0.5 ounces applejack

0.5 ounces fresh lemon juice

0.5 ounces grenadine (preferably homemade)

1 egg white

Combine ingredients in a shaker and shake vigorously without ice. Add ice; continue vigorous shaking. Strain into your favorite vintage cocktail glass.

LEARN HOW TO MAKE GRENADINE AND WHAT WE MEAN BY "SHAKE VIGOROUSLY" AT LUPECBOSTON.BLOGSPOT.COM

Nefertiti Moore's first design was a skirt made from Beverly Hills, 90210 curtains. "Jason Priestley's face was on the front and Luke Perry was on the back," she says. "It was a big hit."

Moore has since graduated to more complicated designs for Vixious Clothing, her women's "urban couture" line. Vixious threads are one of a kind vintage-inspired pieces. There's a new collection every fall, spring and summer.

Moore has a penchant for '80s flicks, '50s style and '70s disco, but her clothes are always an ode to the classic pinup. "When creating my designs, I think to myself, 'Would Bettie Page wear that?'" she says.

Each collection of Vixious Clothing is different, yet most are a cohesive fusion of two disparate vintage fashion trends. A past collection consisted of pieces inspired by roller skate boogie, with short-shorts and tight tops, but made from punk-rock fabrics. "It would be as if Donna Summer and Debbie Harry were friends. It's what they would wear to CBGB or Studio 54 together," says Moore.

In October of 2006, Moore went to London and created "Native American in London," a fall line. This fusion involved mod shapes made from leather and other "Native American-type fabrics."

To prep for the upcoming summer season, Moore has been sewing nonstop and listening to Van Halen. "I love listening to Van Halen while I sew," she says. "You don't hear the machine after a while, you just hear Eddie and Diamond Dave."

The Vixious 2008 summer collection has two parts. The first consists of showgirl costumes with electric pastel fabrics. The second, which Moore labeled "Hillbilly Harlots," will be a combination of pretty pieces in plaids and denims that are short and risqué. "It will be like Daisy Duke meets June Carter," claims Moore. Both parts will feature playsuits, a staple of every Vixious summer collection.

Currently Vixious designs are available online and in select locations, but Moore has bigger plans. "I definitely want to have my own website, then a store in Boston and then worldwide domination," she says. "I want to have boutiques in Milan, San Francisco ... places I really like and that could use more fun clothes."

[Available at the Garment District, 200 Broadway, Kendall Sq., Cambridge. 617.876.5230. garmentdistrict.com, myspace.com/vixiousclothing]

Margaret Hamilton, Idina Menzel, Mabel King, Miss Piggy—they've all smeared the green stuff on their faces and made with the cackling. It was bound to be Ryan Landry's turn next. Having played every demonic diva from Medea to Blanche Dubois, the Wicked Witch of the West was always in his cards. Or, in this case, the Wicked Witch of the South End.

That's right—a scanty two months after their blood-spurty production of Medea, the Gold Dust Orphans are at it again. Whizzin'! might just be Landry's most ambitious work to date. Not only is the show a blow-by-blow adaptation of the eminently adaptable Wizard of Oz; it's a freaking musical. And it works.

Per usual, Landry messes with the original storyline to hilarious effect. This Dorothy—played by actual girl Megan Love, expertly channeling Judy Garland—lives in a trailer park in Hyannis with her weed-farmin' Uncle Henry and Auntie Em. She's suffering from the urinary troubles (hence the show's title) that are still unresolved when a twister whisks her off to the land of Id.

The Orphans run with this one, of course. Our heroine is greeted by a drug addicted Glinda (Olive Another) and Munchkins with giant felt strap-ons the size of their torsos. Glinda grants Dorothy the ruby panties before sending her off on the Freudian Road—not so much an actual walkway as a giant vagina with teeth. Oh yes.

Of course she'll meet a Scarecrow (the adorable Scott Martino) who's glued to his cellphone, a laptop-toting Tin Man (Tom Terrific) with a cybersex addiction and a Cowardly Lion (Rick Park) who's jonesing for a sex change.

And who could forget Landry's Wicked Witch, all warted up and working it to the utmost. With her band of Sock Monkeys, she's determined to snatch the ruby panties from the virginal Dorothy—even if that means our girl getting plowed by a unicorn. Oh yes. And I'll give you two guesses as to how our incontinent protagonist manages to melt the Witch.

Landry and Billy Hough (who also plays Sigmund Freud) penned some pretty decent musical numbers for this one, competently belted out by the Orphans. Terrific probably has the best singing chops of the lot, and Love gives it her all on a cleverly altered version of "Over the Rainbow." If the instrumentals sometimes overwhelm the vocals, bear in mind that these guys are working without mics.

Costumer Scott Martino proves yet again that he may just be the best costume designer in Beantown with his campy riffs on familiar looks from the 1939 movie. Orphan standbys like Cheri Amour and Afrodite round out Whizzin'!'s talented cast. But the real discovery here is a blissed-out mutt named Rhoda, who spends a good chunk of the show slumped across Love's left arm as a living, breathing Toto.

A fine Orphans vintage, Whizzin'! is silly, smart, eager and plenty irreverent. And if a Dorothy who vanquishes her foes with projectile pee is all too much, you'll just have to get over it. As Glinda says, "Such is the bitchy humor of the Munchkins."

WHIZZIN'!

THU.-SAT., 5.15-5.17, 5.22.-5.24

GOLD DUST ORPHANS THEATRE

AT MACHINE

1256 BOYLSTON ST.

BOSTON

617.265.6222

8PM/18+/$21

GOLDDUSTORPHANS.COM

BOW THAYER | THE DRIFTWOOD PERIODICALS VOLUME II

Organic and gentle, Bow Thayer's album was recorded on site (same as Driftwood I) in accordance with his environment. This time it happened to be a hut off the coast of Belize (and later the Dallas/Fort Worth airport), and his ukulele and guitar folk is layered with the sound of waves and birds. This Vermont musician is one to seek out for sure. bowthayer.com

MICHAEL GANDOLFI | Y2K COMPLIANT

Composed as the world n00bed out about the approaching new millennium, Michael Gandolfi's Y2K Compliant is a 20-minute piece ripe with tense strings, nervous horns and frightened woodwinds. The three movements (Short Circuits, Analog Dreams and Joyous Reverb) echo the paranoia and uncertainty that my 14-year-old self did not pay attention to, as I was too busy being 14. bmp.org

With her husky howl and devastating delivery, Thalia Zedek sounds as though she's carried the burden of Boston on her back for decades. And, in many ways, she has. From her time in Uzi and Live Skull to her decade-long tenure in the '90s as the leader of Come (Matador Records) and five extra solo releases, Thalia's beautifully strange, cigarette-scarred, low-register bellow has always provided a perfect voice for the bare underbelly of Boston.

"I think when Come first started it was definitely a very painful time in my life and it was reflected in the songs," Zedek says. "I still tend to write about intense feelings, but I don't think things get worse as time passes. The more you go through; the easier it is to keep things in perspective."

While the turn of the century saw the end of Come, it also triggered the beginning of Zedek's solo career. Liars and Prayers (Thrill Jockey) signals her official return to a full-time full band. "I felt like we went as far as we could go as a three piece," she says. "It's good to sit back for a bit and let other people take over." After acquiring former Victory at Sea keyboardist Mel Lederman and ex-Come bassist Winston Braman, her solo project is now a fleshed-out five-piece known simply as the Thalia Zedek Band. "Everyone in the band has a unique style. I write the chords and the words, but they're the ones that make the sound.""

Like so many of Boston's indie legends, Zedek is still underrated at home, while receiving accolades elsewhere. Besides contributing to (and having a song covered on) Thrill Jockey's 10th anniversary collection of 45's, Zedek was recognized by prestigious UK music mag The Wire as performing one of the 60 greatest live shows of all time. "That's just insane," she says. "Writers were writing in about Nina Simone and Charles Mingus and then there was me."

"I remember that show. It was in Adelaide, Australia in this tiny, tiny bar. We were late to the show because we took the scenic route. We only had time to figure out where the beers were before we played."

[Thalia Zedek next plays in Boston on Fri., 5.23 at the Middle East Upstairs. A nine-date US tour kicks off Fri. 6.13 at Union Pool in Brooklyn with local legends Major Stars. myspace.com/thaliazedek]

Here's something you should buy. By season three, The Muppet Show—a prime-time anomaly that blended pure childhood wonder with adult costars—had hit its stride. On this four-disc set are '70s celebrities like Sly Stallone, Loretta Lynn, Gilda Radner and, omfg, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. Of all the 24 amazing episodes, the Alice Cooper one may be the most legendary. The extra-special bonuses include "A Frog Is Born" about Kermit The Frog and "A Company of Players" about the puppeteers. The super-extra is a rare 60-minute interview between the beloved Rowlf The Dog and master puppeteer (and 28th incarnation of Buddha) Jim Henson. At Henson's funeral, in 1990 (he died prematurely by about 4,000 years), Big Bird and Kermit the Frog sang "The Rainbow Song" as a duet. Just thinking about that makes my eyes water. Had I been there, I would have peed my pants. With tears.

WALT DISNEY VIDEO

RATED | NR

RELEASE DATE | 5.20.08

PRICE | $32.99

What did you think of Cut Copy?

I've never heard of Cut Copy before. But based on what I heard tonight I'll probably see them again. I listened to their MySpace before coming because I figured I might as well know something about it. I kind of liked it. I wouldn't buy it or anything, but I would listen to it alone in my bed with my headphones on.

You're wearing a nice coat.

This is a vintage 1960s coat from Chanel.

It's a Chanel coat?!?

No, I'm just fucking bullshitting you.

It's like a jaguar.

It's more like a cheetah.

Is it a cougar?

No, a cougar and a cheetah are very separate animals, if you looked at them and analyzed them you'd see that.

You look a bit like a move star.

I am a movie star. I am in the movie 666: The Beast. It's a love/comedy about a disaster with a cake. You can find it at Blockbuster.

You must be the cutest puppy I've ever seen. What kind of puppy are you?

I am a St. Bernard Puppy.

How old are you?

I am nine weeks and one day old.

How big are you going to get?

I am hoping to hit 180 pounds. I have to keep up with my owner.

What are you going to do when you get older?

I am going to carry my owner up her four flights of stairs. I am totally abusing her. She does everything I say. I manipulate her. And sleep.

What's your favorite thing to do?

Sleep.

What is your favorite place to sleep?

Underneath the spiral staircase on the top floor.

What do you plan to do with your life?

Sleep every day. Twenty-four hours a day.

What are you doing after this?

Sleeping.

Anything else you'd like to tell Boston?

ZZZZzzzzzzzz