Eddie goes to White Brooklyn for a look at the new (Momo Sushi), the new new (Bushwick Cooperative), and the old (Peter Luger's) for a wine-laden meal with the Tony Stark of VICE—Shane Smith—to talk about the changing face of Brooklyn.

Over the past six weeks in Venezuela, a coalition of political groups opposed to the President—Nicolas Maduro—and students angry over dramatic crime rates have taken to the streets in mass demonstrations.

Thirteen people have died since the protests began and the Chavista government is deeply critical of the wave of demonstrations, accusing them of being a right-wing grab for power organized by bourgeois students and supported by the same political figures who attempted a coup over Hugo Chavez in 2002.

A few days ago, Lilian Tintori, the wife of recently jailed opposition leader Leopoldo Lopez, lead a march to the headquarters of the National Guard.

Attendees at the International Intersex Forum. Photo courtesy of Wiki Commons

Over the past few years, British society has made a lot of progress in terms of gay rights and gender equality. Legislation to allow same-sex marriage was passed, transgender people got full legal recognition of the gender they identify with, and it's now very rare that politicians blame natural disasters on gay people.

However, there's one group that doesn't appear to have benefitted from these growing levels of equality: the UK's 30,000-strong intersex population. Despite being born with physical characteristics that don't allow them to be distinctly identified as either male or female, there is a legal imperative for intersex babies to be assigned a gender on their birth certificates. Often, medical professionals operate on babies and young children to "normalize" their genitalia, which—unsurprisingly—can lead to a host of problems in later life, like not identifying with the gender role they've been forced to inhabit.    

An activist group called the UK Intersex Association (UKIA) is campaigning to change this and putting pressure on the government to introduce a law that would allow intersex people to legally belong to a sex that is considered neither male nor female. I spoke to UKIA director Dr. Jay Hayes-Light to find out more about the organization and its mission.  

Dr. Jay Hayes-Light

VICE: How did UKIA first come about?
Dr. Hayes-Light: It was founded in 2000 by a group of people who believed that, in addition to a network of support groups each focusing on a specific intersex condition, an organization dedicated to research, education, and political campaigning was needed. UKIA is now one of the oldest campaign groups in the UK dedicated to intersex issues, regardless of which form an intersex condition takes.

As the name implies, the original aim was to serve the needs of intersex people and their families in the UK, but due to requests from overseas, UKIA now has associates in many countries.

What are some of the problems that intersex people face because of the government's refusal to recognise a gender other than male or female?
In the UK, provision for those who vary from the binary concept of sexuality, gender identity, and anatomy has taken giant strides in recent years. Despite this progress, however, a veil of secrecy and misinformation has kept intersex out of the public eye.

The forward steps taken in relation to the recognition of transsexual people’s rights and, more recently, same sex marriage, have not been reflected in relation to intersex people. Even as recently as 2010, UK residents born with an intersex condition weren't included in any category within the Equality Act.

The Equality and Human Rights Commission considers that "intersex" is not one of our protected characteristics. This denial of rights is a reflection of society’s view that "intersex" doesn't really exist, and if it does, it can be "cured" by medical intervention.

And it's still not possible to change birth certificates either, right?
No. Despite the major advancement for trans people via 2004's Gender Recognition Act, which recognized the right of trans people to change their birth registration to match their gender role, intersex people are still unable to change their birth certificates unless they follow the path laid down for trans people.

That consists of psychiatric assessment, the supposed "real-life test" [where individuals live full-time as their preferred gender role to prove they can function in society in that gender role] and proof that they are living in the gender role opposite to the one on their original birth certificate, which—for many intersex people—was incorrect to start with. Being outside the gates has repercussions for many aspects of life that others take for granted, such as marriage and adoption.

Can you tell me about your campaign to change the law?
Some years ago, New Zealand and Australia officially recognized intersex people who don't identify as the traditional concept of male or female. More recently, Germany followed this positive change in their legislation.

I have placed a high priority on changing the law in the UK to recognize that a large minority in society do not identify with binary labels and that the rush to choose one of two markers on an infant's birth certificate can often be a catalyst for surgical reassignment to a specific sex category.

A protest in Glasgow against intersex genital mutilation. Photo courtesy of stop.genitalmutilation.org

What risks are associated with coercing intersex people into adopting the label of either male or female?
The current requirement to register a child’s birth as male or female can rush parents into seeking a solution. And the response from the medical profession has often been to use surgery to assign the infant to one of just two sexes. In addition to this, the inflexibility when it comes to the birth registration requirement ignores the reality that not everyone falls into line with what is a concept rather than a fact.

There are many more people in the UK who reject binary labels. If we're truly committed to human rights, then allowing a third category would be logical.

The UKIA is also campaigning against non-consensual surgery given to intersex babies and young people in order to assign them a traditional gender. Can you tell me about that?
Yes, we've become increasingly aware that the range of labels that we use to simplify what is, in reality, a very complex universe can, over time, become redundant and can also be harmful in that they misrepresent reality. Terms such as "masculine" and "feminine" are more a social construct than a reflection of reality. Discussions relating to what is "normal" and what constitutes "abnormal" have different meanings across cultures.

The tendency to supposedly protect both the individual and the rest of society by using such drastic measures as surgically changing a person’s anatomy without their consent is the height of arrogance, regardless of how much surgical skills have advanced.

Do you think the refusal to recognize intersex status on birth certificates leads to an identity crisis for some intersex people because they belong to a gender that officially doesn’t exist?
UKIA cannot speak generally on behalf of intersex people in matters relating to personal identity. What we can speak about is the range of personal life experiences of those who work with us and have spoken openly about issues such as gender identity. Most intersex people do have a clear idea as to their gender identity, which ranges through male, female, neither, or a blend of more than one.

So far, however, society and the law has required them to choose between male or female, and a refusal to comply can lead to complications in a range of public services. To quote the UKIA Secretary: "Given the choice of ‘male’, ‘female’ or ‘intersex’, I would unhesitatingly select ‘intersex’, but society doesn't give me that option, so I select ‘female’ with deep reservations, gritting my teeth at a society which will not accept my right to simply be who I am.’"

So what are the main barriers stopping intersex from being included as an option on birth certificates?
If you were to put this question to a general audience, there would be a variety of responses, ranging from disbelief that such a phenomenon exists among human beings, through to the popular default of transsexualism or homosexuality. If you were to address the same question to a politician, the result may well be the same. The main barrier, therefore, would be based on lack of awareness and a general reluctance to engage in yet another concession to what is considered to be a minority group.

In 2004, the gender recognition debate resulted in a law to allow trans people to change their birth certificate and, in 2013, the Commons and the Lords voted on same-sex marriage. Some politicians may use these examples to suggest that, since intersex people can change their birth certificates as long as they pretend to be transsexual and claim a specific gender identity as male or female, they are allowed to marry whether they identify as male or female.

Many people have no concept of what an intersex condition is and replace informed opinion with outdated reference to hermaphrodites, who are half male and half female and therefore need medical treatment before legal concessions.

How much progress has been made so far?
In some areas, a great deal. In others, very little. A contributor to a news group, when told about the new legislation in Germany, responded with, "I want out of the EU and this is yet another reason to leave."

Finally, what do you think the future of intersex rights might be?
Hopefully a resolution to current anomalies affecting the lives of intersex people, a growing awareness in society of the existence of intersex people in their midst, and an understanding of what truly is "normal." We're under no illusion that, unless we keep up the pressure, very little will be achieved in the short term and the fact is that intersex people definitely don't want to wait any longer for what is their right.

Over the past few years, the hip-hop listening event has transformed from an intimate way to share new music with eager listeners into the perfect opportunity to pummel corporate branding into the brains of free-riding party people. This was painfully apparent to me a couple of weeks ago at West Coast rapper YG’s My Krazy Life album event, held at the Converse Rubber Tracks studio in Williamsburg.Rubber Tracks is a free venue and recording studio built on the north side of Brooklyn. It’s Converse’s gift to Brooklyn’s starving creative class, in exchange for their cultural cache. The walls of the space are covered in “graffiti,” a faux police line-up backdrop (perfect for the internet thugs like myself), and dozens of red, white, and blue trainers arranged to resemble the American flag. Avión tequila also sponsored the event, serving up free drinks and subliminally implanting their name in the minds of attendees.

I was excited for YG’s listening party mostly because of his imminent rise out of the West Coast to what I’m sure will be nationwide fame. He’s mesmerizing the hip-hop fans right now with his songs about robbing houses that boast the addictive beats of DJ Mustard. But this event wasn’t about YG’s music. It was about bombarding the attendees with free goodies in the hope that they’d buy into the branding and spread the good word. 

Of course, the listening party was hosted by none other than the self-proclaimed “GOAT of hip-hop journalism,” Elliott Wilson. I’ve worked alongside Elliott since 2011, at Respect magazine. Since then, I’ve watched him turn hip-hop “reporting” into an all out cash grab—just buy a ticket to one of his CRWN Conversations and watch him drink rosé and have unassuming small talk with the world’s most famous and press-averse rappers. In true form at the listening party, Elliott lobbed a few softball questions at YG. They landed right next to the perfectly positioned, glistening bottles of Avión tequila on stage.

As sad as the state of affairs was at the YG’s party, listening events weren’t always this way. The practice of holding listening sessions began as early as music criticism, before hip-hop blessed the aural landscape. At the start of the digital era, these events became essential as a way for journalists and critics to hear and review an album early without the risk of its leaking to the world. Music writers were invited to a label conference room during a specific time slot over the course of two days. They were served food and drinks and the label played the album front-to-back, twice. Then, in a moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability mixed with genuine curiosity, the artist would walk in, surprise everyone, and ask, “What did you think?”

If the artist wanted to offer a more genuine experience, he would hold the listening session in a recording studio. One of HOT 97 DJ Peter Rosenberg’s first listening events was for Gang Starr’s Moment of Truth, at the legendary EMT Studios back in the late 90s. He described it as being full of “nerdy” DJs who were just excited to see DJ Premiere in person. Back then, if the artist wanted a party to celebrate the album, that would be a second event. They separated church and state.

Today, the terms listening session, listening party, and listening event are used interchangeably. And because albums don’t make money anymore, listening events are being used as a way to cash in. “Major label’s are broke and operating off of long lines of credit,” said Richie Abbott, owner of Juggernaut Sounds, who previously ran urban publicity for Capitol Records and Warner Music Group. “The people responsible for getting the music heard need to get creative to make money to do these events. Brands still have money; labels don’t. It makes perfect sense for them to come together and cross-promote.” Labels can no longer spend money on listening events, so to offset the costs, the artist are selling themselves through brands and sponsorships.

For YG’s party, it turns out Avión and Young Jeezy, who signed YG to his CTE imprint, have a preexisting relationship. Jeezy once gave the brand a shout-out in a song, so the owner reached out and the two became fast friends. By extension, YG gets the “friends and family” hook-up, so all the liquor was provided free of cost out of mutual love and support.

That’s not always the case. Not being able to bank off record sales for cash flow, the artist will often make money from sponsors for listening events, according to Michelle McDevitt, industry veteran and cofounder of Audible Treats. A smaller-name brand matched with a big name talent means the artist will likely make money to support the name.

So revving up the hype machine for both the brands and the artists is much more important than wining and dinning music critics. To generate the relevant buzz, the guest list for modern listening events is almost strictly scenesters. “You would be amazed at how many listenings I don’t get invited to. I’m not even a priority, and I’m a DJ who plays records on the radio!” Peter Rosenberg said. “It’s the brand trying to talk through the people who are there, rather than about the album.” Those people are now bloggers with big Twitter followings, sponsors and their clients looking to smash free drinks, and radio-contest winners, just so the plebes think they still matter.

“Because record sales are so lacking and the internet is a gigantic beast, the listening session has become a giant advertisement,” Kathy Iandoli, music editor of HipHopDX (and, full disclosure, occasional VICE contributor) said. “It changed the function of the listening session. It should be renamed as hanging out with YG and maybe listening to his album.”

At his own party, YG only played about half the album and rapped over one song. Before they cut off the flow of free booze and kicked everyone out, YG screened his latest video for the “My Nigga” remix, featuring Nicki Minaj, Lil Wayne, Meek Mill, and Rich Homie Quan. One minute and 20 seconds in, Jeezy makes a cameo with a giant gold chain. His necklace is just a blurry detail in the background, but the Avión tequila he’s holding is in focus, front and center.  

Follow Lauren Schwartzberg on Twitter. 

Dr. John O'Connor. Photo by the author.

Alberta’s doctors are still shaken by the story of Dr. John O’Connor, a Fort McMurray physician who first spoke out about the potential impact of the tar sands on human health back in 2006. After years of treating patients in Fort Chipewyan, a remote community downstream from Fort McMurray’s open-pit mines and toxic lakes, he became alarmed by the prevalence of rare cancers in Fort Chip’s tiny, primarily indigenous population. When he suggested that the cancer could explained by pollution from the oil industry, he was accused of misconduct by Health Canada and risked losing his medical licence. And although he’s been cleared of all charges, doctors throughout Alberta are now reluctant to diagnose patients who think the oil industry has impacted their health.

O’Connor was just in Washington, D.C., where he briefed members of the senate on the health impacts of the tar sands ahead of their Keystone XL pipeline decision. He’s since returned to Fort Mac, where he took some time out to speak with me about what it’s like to advocate for public health in the face of the largest industrial project on the planet.

VICE: Your story began in 2006 when you said a high rate of rare cancers in Fort Chipewyan could be linked to oil sands projects upstream. How did this discovery come about?
Dr. John O'Connor: Well, what happened even before that was these vivid descriptions from people—especially elders in the community—regarding the changes that they’d seen in their environment. You know, consistent descriptions of the change in the water, the fish and wildlife, and especially the plant-life that they would use as their traditional medicines. Each one of them was describing the same thing, the same changes. They could no longer eat the fish or drink the water from the lake, as opposed to what they grew up with—clean water, edible and abundant fish.

Since then, there’s independent science that’s built up detailing the impact that the industry has had on the environment—on the land, the water, the air. This is totally contrary to what the government and industry have been spouting for years. With those scientific studies came documentation of carcinogens that are in the environment and getting into the food chain. There’s more and more smoking guns now that strongly point to the likelihood that industry is the culprit.

What kind of symptoms were people in Fort Chipewyan showing?
The cancers are sort of one extreme—blood and lymphatic cancer, thyroid cancer, central nervous system cancer and bile duct, biliary tract cancer, presenting in different symptoms in different ways. Part of me coming in was getting to know the patients, getting to know what happened before, and learning about the families and people who had passed away. I started going to Fort Chip in 2000… the history that predated me arriving was very striking. As I got to know patients, coming in with various symptoms, I sent them out for tests and got the results back. These were very, very concerning. I saw a lot of auto-immune diseases, like Lupus and rheumatoid arthritis, a lot of skin disorders, gastro-intestinal disorders of various types, just a lot. Taken as a whole in the population that was only 850—it was just phenomenal. It didn’t make any sense.

How do you think they were exposed?
A number of people in the community work in industry so they fly in and out from Fort Chip. But there’s also been a reliance—80 percent of the community survives off the land, hunting, fishing, trapping and gathering. I think that number is diminished now. Fishing is gone. There was a commercial fishery there for years, for a month and a half each year, and that has died off. I know some of the elders now, they won’t eat the fish, unfortunately. One elder told me that the only fish he eats now is tuna he buys at the supermarket… There’s been a push away from traditional foods for a large chunk of the population, because the foods are so tainted.

Some studies suggest leaky tailings ponds upriver in Fort McMurray could be the source of pollution for the tainted foods. What do you think?
I’m not an expert—I’m a family physician. But when I look at the science that’s out there, and the works of Professor Schindler and his team, it’s amazing work demonstrating that the tailings are—and that the industry is—impacting [the food supply]. Environment Canada’s report of two or three weeks ago traced the toxins that they were detecting in the water to one tailings pond leaking at the rate of 6.5 million litres a day. The government line was: “Oh, it’s all naturally occurring.” Well, Environment Canada scientists proved: “No, it’s not. This is industry related and sourced.”

Last year we had a report from Dr. Cowan—he issued a report that compared the fish from the Gulf of Mexico after the BP Deepwater Horizon disaster, he compared those fish with the fish that were examined after the Exxon Valdeez disaster off Alaska. And the Athabasca fish that we brought out to a press conference at the University of Alberta in 2010, and had been being caught for years now—deformed fish, very abnormal fish—he compared the findings and they all shared the same abnormalities from exposure.

There’s definitely a relationship between development and industry and the abnormalities that are being detected. And when you look at the population that’s been most impacted in Fort Chip, you would definitely figure it’s related to consumption of traditional foods that have been impacted by industry. But there are other people that got sick that wouldn’t have been around long enough to have had all that level of exposure. There’s nothing clear-cut about this at all. It emphasizes an underlying need for a comprehensive health study.

The punitive actions taken against you seem to still be deterring doctors from connecting health problems to industrial activity. Specifically, there were four charges of misconduct raised against you by Health Canada that were investigated by the Alberta College of Physicians and Surgeons, including blocking access to files, billing inconsistencies, and causing "undue alarm" in Fort Chipewyan. These charges have all been dropped, but did they ever have any merit?
No. I couldn’t allow or block access to files in Fort Chip. The files were not mine. The nurse in charge in the community made that very clear, back then, that she is ultimately the guardian, the caretaker of the files. And she has the last word as to whether information goes in or out…

Billing inconsistencies, they pointed to a contract that I had with Health Canada… When a doctor agrees to go to a remote area, like an aboriginal community, transportation out there is generally subsidized or provided by Health Canada for on-reserve communitied. There’s no guarantee that you’re going to see more than a handful of patients, so it can be a poorly paying proposition to go out and do it. This contract was theirs. They asked me if I would be interested to sign it, and I re-signed it, year after year. But it was their contract. There were no billing irregularities whatsoever, and that’s what they were referring to.

And raising “undue alarm” in the community? The community had tried for years on its own to have its voice heard. The fishermen tried on two occasions—they collected deformed fish from the lake and stored them for transportation out to Edmonton and maybe beyond for authorities to look at, and they were just left there to rot. Nobody ever picked them up. They repeatedly talked about the changes they were seeing and the illnesses in the community—and this is before I arrived in Fort Chip. They were ignored. This was an ongoing health crisis in the community and I walked into it. I simply brought it to the attention of authorities, and then I was told I was raising undue alarm. When anyone in the community I talked to said, “No, we’re alarmed because we were being ignored. No, we are relieved that this is out.” I was told repeatedly, “Now we have a voice and it’s you.” That was said to me again and again by community members.

So, the charges were absolutely trumped up, no-basis in reality. And it took me two years and eight months to get this off my back.

A sign outside of the home of a family who say they abandoned their home in Peace River, Alberta due to pollution. Photo via Allan Gignoux.

Did you face any other repercussions for publicly suggesting that these health problems could be tied to oil sands development?
Not really. The College of Physicians did what they did. But I had nothing but support at the Alberta Medical Association, the Canadian Medical Association, the president of the Canadian Medical Association—support across the board. Not one of my colleagues—no physicians at all—criticized me. I got nothing but support. But it was in three years of hell, without knowing what the outcome would be. I wouldn’t want to go through it again. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Has the government acknowledged any link between the health issues and industrial development?
Oh, no. On the contrary, they’ve denied. They’ve continued to deny that there is a link. They quote the Royal Society of Canada report from three years ago that said there’s no evidence of a link between industrial activity and health issues in Fort Chip. Well, of course you wouldn’t find a link if you didn’t look. When you look at the independent science—the toxins that have been identified—and you look at the illnesses, it’s like connecting the dots. It’s just that the line hasn’t been drawn to join up that final connection piece. Of course, the illnesses could be related to industrial activity. Even based on the precautionary principal, you’ve got a burden of pathology, you’ve got a huge impact on the environment, you’ve got a river flowing north … when you look at the actual illnesses in the community and you look at the toxins that have been identified, they can absolutely be linked. The government has said, “no, there’s no connection,” even in spite of all the scientific studies that have come out. It’s an indictment of where they’re at. They’re so cozy with industry it’s nauseating.

What levels of government do you believe are misrepresenting the impact of industry?
Provincial and federal. They’ve both adopted the same stance, the same attitude, one supporting the other. It’s terrible, but that is the case.

Is the medical establishment helping the government misrepresent this situation?
I don’t think so. The medical establishment—Health Canada—has not been of any assistance at all. This is their turf, so to speak. They’re responsible for on-reserve health and this has occurred on their watch. They’ve put a lot of effort into trying to shut me up, from 2007 to 2009. The first visit from Health Canada into the community, when this story started to come out, was in early 2006.

Three physicians from Health Canada came up from Edmonton and one of them, with a Globe and Mail reporter in tow, one of them filled their mouth with water in the nursing station in Fort Chip. They turned around and said, “See, there’s nothing wrong with the water here in Fort Chip.” That was a litmus test for him, really, apparently he could tell just by having a mouth full of water that there was nothing wrong. Which was a total insult to the community. He totally missed the point—this is not just about water, this is much bigger. Anyway, they have never been back to do anything or say anything.

At the recent public inquiry into Peace River’s bitumen emissions, Dr. Margaret Sears presented a report that found “physicians are frankly afraid to diagnose health conditions linked to the oil and gas industry.” Additionally, Sears found, an Alberta laboratory refused their analytical services to patients who believed that industry made them ill. What do you think is preventing doctors and labs from helping these patients?
I read her report. I read the newspaper reports obviously, too, but I also spoke with one of the Labrecque family who was involved in this. It was clear that the doctors in the Peace River area feel that because of what happened to me back then, that they would have reason to be concerned that they might have a college complaint or license altering actions taken if they dared to speak about health symptoms and the tar sands. So, it’s very hard to blame them for thinking that. I mean, I don’t know, personally, of any situation where a doctor has had to go through what I’ve gone through—so that’s their reference point. I don’t blame them at all. Probably they’re safer now than what they would have been eight or ten years ago, because my situation is out there. I don’t think any person in a position of authority would do the same thing again to doctors simply doing their duty. I sympathize with them. It’s tough and awful that this has to be the case. Hopefully with the reassurance I read about from the College of Physicians and the Alberta Medical Association, doctors will feel a little bit less reluctant to assess and consider everything.

The symptoms in Peace River that I read about could well be related to exposure to the fumes from these storage facilities—I’ve had countless patients who have said the same thing. When you’re driving past the tar sands heading north from Fort McMurray, it’s so common to have sore throat, the eye irritation, the headaches, nausea, et cetera, et cetera.

Obviously there are other things that could cause these symptoms, but you look at everything. Among the things you shouldn’t be afraid to do is to consider that it could be related to industry exposure and send people for testing. So hopefully with the reassurance of the college and the Alberta Medical Association, it’ll make it easier for people to feel a bit less apprehensive.

What reassurance was given exactly? Do you mean the 2007 resolution from the Canadian Medical Association that called for whistleblower protection?
That sort of got lost in the shuffle. I don’t think that the doctors realize… the registrar of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in Edmonton and the president of the Alberta Medical Association gave interviews to the Edmonton Journal a week or two ago and said that physicians have a duty and that nobody will criticize them or take them to task for sending people for testing or considering that it could be related to industrial exposure. I presume that the quotes were direct quotes. So that’s very fresh, and that’s new, and that’s in addition to the 2007 whistleblower protection.

Do you think this will instill confidence in doctors who are afraid to come forward with this kind of information?
I hope so. I would imagine that there’s more than the doctors in Peace River and myself who are seeing patients with these issues—or similar ones—in proximity to some of these developments. The symptoms and the complaints that people have are so common. It’s difficult to envisage that there are not more out there that would come forward.

Alberta Health Services is expected to release updated cancer statistics for Fort Chipewyan this month. It’s already been a source of conflict, with Fort Chipewyan’s leaders backing out of a recent meeting after AHS wouldn’t share their findings in advance. Do you think these new statistics will accurately reflect the crisis? Will they spur government action?
It doesn’t matter what information is released, because the promised health study never happened. And it needs to happen. Additional information is fine, but now let’s get on with a comprehensive health study. And at this point in time, I think I pretty much know the attitude and the feeling in the community—it would need to be completely independent, not a government-run study. Because I think the community has completely lost trust and are totally disillusioned with government’s interest in them.

So government wants the health study to be done with industry funding?
No, they want industry to be part of the management oversight committee. I don’t think they approached industry for funding. But they wanted industry overseeing the health study, which makes absolutely no sense… Industry has nothing to do with the provision of health care, it’s not part of government, it’s not part of local infrastructure in that area. Fort Chip’s reaction is that this could be like the fox looking after the hen house.

What’s the best way forward for the tar sands?
Stopping the industry at this point would be a disaster. A different disaster. Because poverty kills a lot faster and a lot more assuredly than exposure. And people would be thrown into poverty, no doubt about that. But, like the recently retired PC MP for the region, Brian Jean, said: “The development should be slowed down.” I am thinking of a moratorium on any new approvals. They’re talking about tripling the tar sands. I think that would be a terrible, terrible thing to happen, without a comprehensive, credible independent health study being completed.

And there’s other issues in Fort Mac, with infrastructure. The hospital is woefully small for the population. I work at the hospital for five days a month and it’s constantly full. No empty beds… at the [emergency room] people are lined up out the door, from the population explosion due to industrial activity increasing. For lots of reasons, I think we have to look at slowing down. From a health standpoint, it absolutely needs to be reined in. At least until we know what's going on. 

@M_Tol

Sue Ford on the float. All photos by the author

In 1987, singer and guitarist Sue Ford moved from Boston to New Orleans and became firmly entrenched in the city’s rock scene. She’s currently married to Jimmy Ford, a drummer, former bar owner, and one-time manager for acts like the dB's and Richard Hell. The couple plays together in the heavy rock band DiNOLA, but Sue is perhaps best known as the woman who first injected rock ’n’ roll into the city’s traditional Mardi Gras parades.

Sue rightfully felt the parades didn’t reflect the wide variety of music New Orleans offers, and so she did her damnedest to get her all-female rock band Pink Slip onto a float. Her idea to screw with traditions stretching back hundreds of years met with resistance until 2000, when New Orleans’s first all-female parade krewe, the Muses, put out a call for female musicians and bands outside of the jazz and blues genres, which normally dominate the festivities.

A man prepares a float—loaded with beads—for the Mardi Gras parade in Chalmette Lousiana, on February 22.

Nowadays, Pink Slip rocks several parades every Mardi Gras season. On the more crowded routes, fans hold signs demanding “Show Us Your Pink!” Police officers occassionally request the DiNOLA song “I Wanna Die in New Orleans,” which the Fords wrote with Dave Catching, who owns the famed Rancho de la Luna studios in Joshua Tree and who often joins Pink Slip on the parade route. Other frequent special guests include former White Zombie bassist Sean Yseult, Tony Maimone of Pere Ubu, and New Orleans’s legendary singer-songwriter Susan Cowsill, of the Cowsill family band.

Over the years, all the other female musicians who were in Pink Slip have dropped out or been, well, given the pink slip. Eric Laws of DiNOLA now plays lead guitar, and Eddie Payne plays bass. After serving as Pink Slip’s roadie for six years, Sue’s husband Jimmy plays drums on the float while simultaneously running sound.

When I talked to her for a 2012 OffBeat magazine piece I wrote about her role in Mardi Gras, Sue told me about the process of selecting companions for this annual adventure: “When picking my krewe, it’s like going on a canoe trip. First, you’re thinking about all the great friends you want to bring. Then it starts raining and the canoe gets stuck, and you think, ‘OK, who would not deal with this well?’ and you start crossing people off that list.”

So I was honored to be chosen as Pink Slip’s guest bartender for the Knights of Nemesis parade, on the afternoon of February 22 in outlying Chalmette, beyond the Lower Ninth Ward. 

Pink Slip on the band's float

Chalmette is very different from the New Orleans beloved by tourists. I’ve always been fond of Chalmations, as the residents are called, though Chalmette can look a lot like suburbia. Instead of charmingly crammed-together shotgun homes, Chalmations live in regular middle-class houses on double lots with army-green boats round back. In place of music clubs, Chalmette has strip malls and chain stores, and an amazing array of drive-through daiquiri shops.

I step out of my truck in the Walmart parking lot near the parade’s start and take in the sight of St. Bernard Parish’s Creole Tomato Queen adjusting her crown and sash and another lady spray-painting purple fleurs-de-lis onto a horse while telling her friends how she used to live in New Orleans proper but “city life just isn’t for me.”

Pink Slip hasn’t arrived, yet so I walk over to where the other floats are lined up. Heavy-duty speakers strapped to floats blast Drake, “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” Three Dog Night, and the Mardi Gras Indian anthem “New Suit.” Above me men load colorful floats with bags and bags of beads and toys to throw. Emptied bags dance in the wind all around the parking lot. More than one guy is wearing Duck Dynasty gear, and one has a football helmet on because he’s on blood thinners, he tells me—getting hit with beads could be fatal.

This will be the first year for Pink Slip’s new float, which is far nicer than the smaller vehicle they rented from the Lyon’s Club for the last 13 years. This one has more space, a sweet little Honda generator, and a private bathroom featuring a bucket full of kitty litter. 

With ten minutes left till parade time, Jimmy and Sue mount two heavy, expensive speakers onto the roof and slide similar monitors into a compartment above where Sue will sing. Sue rushes to screw the soundboard into the float in such a way that Jimmy can run sound while also playing drums. 

Everyone’s dressed in rocker gear with pink accessories, while bass player Eddie wears an amazing suit he’s adorned with fuzzy balls and thousands of plastic googly eyes. The project took him two years to complete. “I would force myself to watch shitty movies that I didn’t have to pay attention to, just so I could sit with the glue gun,” he tells me. Ed’s tall pointed hat is sort of a Muppet version of the traditional capuchin worn by krewes in the Mamou region of southern Louisiana—the kind of hat that makes crowds stop and point and forces teenagers to look up from their iPhones.

As we prepare to finally roll I make sure everyone has a drink. Jimmy warns me that this U-turn of a parade route takes four to five hours to complete, meaning we’ll have to pace ourselves with the drinks. Like Mardi Gras itself, this is a marathon, not a sprint. Our cooler is full of tall boys plus six thermoses full of mandarin-flavored vodka and soda with the smallest splash of cranberry juice—a drink known in more than a couple of local bars as a “Jimmy Ford.”

Eddie in his hat

A bit before 2 PM we are finally off, the float subtly swaying like a boat as it moves down the road. Almost no one in the Chalmette crowd is costumed, though their necks are draped with beads, the traditional Mardi Gras currency. We’re noticeably not besieged by beggars like the floats in front of us and behind. A few in the crowd observe that I don’t have an instrument in my hands and gesture for some kind of offering like ducks lusting after breadcrusts. “Giving them the gift of music is good enough,” Sue replies when I ask if they have anything on board I can throw.

I’m not feeling Pink Slip’s cover of the late-period U2 song “Get on Your Boots,” but Loverboy’s “Working for the Weekend” slays the crowd. I am about to request they play DiNOLA’s heaviest song, “Vaporizer,” when Sue calls it out. After it’s over, someone in the crowd hands Erik up a beer. Jimmy advises him not to let it go to his head. Soon afterward, the parade stalls out and our float comes to a stop.

Pink Slip continue to play for about ten minutes before a cop comes over and explains that one of the float’s tractor drivers got into an argument with his krewe and abandoned his duties. They were now looking for someone else who could drive a tractor. Eventually, somehow, the parade rolls on.

This daytime Chalmette route lacks the debauchery associated with Mardi Gras (tit flashing as a tradition has almost disappeared, even on Bourbon Street, thanks to digital cameras and the internet; you never know which pictures are going to make you infamous). The modest Chalmation crowd is made up mostly of families of every size, shape, and color. But though things start out quiet, as time passes folks get visibly drunker and wilder. More air guitarists step up. Dads bounce little girls on sloppy shoulders. In lieu of beads I hand out a few tall boys to those in the crowd wearing costumes or otherwise clearly deserving of something.  

At around three, Pink Slip plays “Fashion” by David Bowie, and we spot the blue-and-white marching band at the start of the parade passing us on the other side of the neutral ground. Then it's my turn to take the stage and sing Madonna’s “Vogue.”

I’ve been singing in front of audiences since I was 15, but performing on the float feels strange. People stare and point; I feel like more of an object. When the song is done, Sue pats the top of her head to signal the band to start the song again “from the top.” Moving along the route you could play the same tune over and over, and no one but the band would even notice.

The author trying his best to channel Madonna

At 3:30, we finally U-turn around the neutral ground to the tune of War’s “Cisco Kid.” The float’s floor is littered with plastic googly eyes that have dropped off Eddie’s hat—I pick them up so he can glue them back on later. Then our day takes a sudden turn. As I sit back down, I watch as the big monitor slides free of its moorings and hits Sue in the head. She continues singing, somehow, but her voice slows down like a dying vinyl record as she gradually slumps down in a chair.

The band stops. The truck stops. The float stops. The parade behind us stops, and the float ahead of us rolls away. Everyone rushes to Sue, who claims she’s fine. Her hair isn’t bloody, at least. I wrap up some ice for her head as she moves to the back of the float to lie down across the coolers.  

This means I have to sing again. I don’t know many songs on the band’s set list, so we play ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man,” the same four verses, on a loop, for about 15 minutes. The crowd cheers but the band is looking back worriedly at Sue, who is holding ice on her head with the woozy smile of someone who just got bonked on the head with a roughly 70-pound speaker. She gives me a thumbs-up.  

Finally Sue, against all common sense, stands back up to reclaim her microphone. Holding ice to her head she sings “Dragging the Line” by Tommy James and the Shondells, chosen because it includes the refrain “I feel fine.” The set list then shifts to original DiNOLA tunes—which, truth be told, sound better than the band’s covers—until finally we pull back into the Walmart parking lot.

In the end, no one drank more than four drinks. The cooler is still stocked with food the band never had time to eat, beers they didn’t drink, and three full thermoses of Jimmy Fords.

Jimmy Ford on drums

Jimmy finally has time now to worry over Sue. “She got two different concussions during Mardi Gras last year,” he tells me, kissing his wife’s still-throbbing head. “She got smacked in the head with a piece of wood while working on the float, and then someone hit her in the head with giant bag. And she just kept on going.”

When I left them, the was packing up to do it all again. 

Michael Patrick Welch is a New Orleans musician, journalist, and author of books including The Donkey Show and New Orleans: The Underground Guide. His work has appeared at McSweeney's, Oxford American, Newsweek, Salon, and many other publications. Follow him on Twitter.

How can you run a music site if you have no taste? This is a question I faced last week, when a publicist emailed me with a bee in her bonnet because Noisey, VICE's music site, decided not to premiere the new PUJOL single. Seriously, Noisey? You guys aren’t into good music? Isn’t that, like, your job? I know you’d rather spend what little time you’ve got left on this dangerous dying sphere talking about Drake, but let me fill you in on a little industry secret: No one gives a rat’s sack what Drake is doing or saying, and we'd all rather be vibing to some crunchy-as-fuck garage rock before the sun blows up and we’re all dead.

Enter Daniel Pujol and his newest single, "Pitch Black." Dan is this scrappy punk kid from Nashville who’s played in about a gazillion bands and is one sweat-stained T-shirt away from being a gross crustie. When I first heard "Pitch Black," my jaw hit the floor and my penis stood up and started doing the Mashed Potato for a minute. It’s an old-fashioned rock 'n' roll jammy jam made by a dude who knows that pop music should kick your teeth in and be out the door in three minutes or less.

The song is off his upcoming record KLUDGE, which will be released through Saddle Creek on May 20. (You can pre-order that sucker right here.) We asked Dan to tell us what was going on with the cover art, and he sent us back a beast of an email that we're reprinting below in full, not only because it's too good to edit, but because it does a good job of explaining why we've got such a boner for this dude.

VICE: Hey Dan, what's going on with your new album cover?
Daniel Pujol: I wanted to make an album that sounded completely fictional. Like a cartoon nightmare. Tiny wind-up orchestra. 

One without "RAWKIN'" caricatures of "in the moment authenticity." Guitar Centered quantification. No goofy loudness war production, etc. No organic cheese crackers. 

I saw the new Superman and was disappointed by the obsessively realistic special effects. I don't understand the obsession with realism in media and entertainment, but the fiction and stories are fantastically nonexistent. 

"Oh, man, that CGI Godzilla has a million scales! Oh, man, that guitar amp sounds exactly the way Guitar Center promised me it would!"

I don't care what Superman would really look like slamming through a building. However, I could be interested in the impossible myth of Superman. Superman could be a personification of human ideals thrown into dilemmas like a litmus test. I don't care what he eats for breakfast. I want the story. It is more important to me than exactly what that story would look like if it was real.

What does it say about our fantasies if we want them to look HD-realistic? What does it say about our reality if we are entertained by hyper-realistic fantasy? 

I don't want to "be in the room with the drum set." Or eat breakfast with Superman. Or smell the singer's breath in stereo. Or count Godzilla's scales.

I want to be forced to know there is more than what I can think, see, or feel. That there are things I couldn't imagine on my own because they exist only in reference to themselves. As creations of someone else. To spite solipsism. 

*These new "chimera" models are hodge-podged from old toy parts initially created by other people.

The LP's narrative is essentially a Self "breaking up" with his/her Sense Of Self and rediscovering Other People. Just long enough to be seduced by their own identity again. Luckily, the narrator realizes his/her flesh is not his/her identity. And this could be a cycle. Called growing.

There are a lot of "I/you" songs. Is the narrator singing to another person or his/herself or a concept or an idea, etc? I don't know.

The models help visualize this narrative without "counting Godzilla's scales." 

I created an exercise based off of the Burroughs/Bowie "cut-up" method. I go to a specific used-toy store. They have a box of broken toys. I grab handfuls of old, dirty, toy parts and try to make "sense" of them by creating an "action figure." As I sort through them, an idea that the figure could personify begins to form. Then I Frankenstein it together. I give the abstract concept a body, the same way a joke has a punchline:

Things I see or read about
People turning into how they act
What a feeling would look like with a body
Attitudes
Behaviors
Ideals
News Headlines
Feelings
Total Fiction
Personification of Thoughts, Desires, Fears
Personified fear of things we almost understand
"I" and "You" within the same person
Turning Misbehaviors Into Objects
Dirty Toys, used playthings endlessly repairing themselves, being abused and enjoyed by the world... yuck!

They are empowered but also limited by their body. This is one of the reason why they are funny to me. The Sacred Heart of Jesus has to ride on a golden saddle of only two muscular legs. The legs are impressive, but can't gallop. He can't GET anywhere. Looks great on paper, but getting around is more complicated. So he must settle for Sacred Heart the Human Kindness Kind. Net gain. 

These models are the characters of the narrator's inner monologue. His/her OWN Superman Reboot. But its birth into our reality is grotesque and exists in reference only to the narrator's mind, life experience, his/her "myth."

They are Frankenstein's made from the toy graveyard of other human's dream, ideas, and playthings. Assuming thoughts and feelings are "toys" for humans to "play" with. 

The models are the supporting cast of Someone rebooting their "Ideal-Self."

Is he/she committing the same mistake as the Superman Reboot? Or is it all he/she knows is possible because of the world he/she experiences? And it is the best he/she can do.

*I also became interested in the history of horror and folklore. Monsters being created as explanations of things existing on the cusp of human understanding. Demons to vampires to aliens to inter-dimensional shadow people. This determined the look of some of these models. Contemporary fear.

Is conspiracy theory the new folklore of horror? Lizard people, shadow people, chip implants, MRAP police state, etc. 

Thanks, Dan!

Photo courtesy of AFP/Getty. This story is from VICE News, our new news website. See more and sign up now at vicenews.com. 

Almost 60 years to the day after the Soviet Union transferred control of Crimea to Ukraine, Russian President Vladimir Putin is preparing to invade Ukraine after securing an initial foothold in Crimea.

Members of the upper house of the Russian parliament, never ones to go against Putin's wishes, voted unanimously Saturday to approve sending troops into Ukraine. Putin said there is reason to believe Russian citizens, ethnic Russians, and Russian military interests—Russia maintains a crucial port in Sevastopol, where its Black Sea Fleet is based—in Ukraine are in danger.

Putin may have intelligence the rest of the world does not. While there have certainly been skirmishes between pro-Russian groups and others in Ukraine, there has been little indication that Russian citizens or ethnic Russians have been the targets of violence. And a military base is probably safe from protesters—though as a result of Russia's actions, opposition leader Vitali Klitschko has called for the invalidation of the current agreement allowing Russia to maintain its fleet in Crimea.

??????? ?????????? ? ??????? ????????? ?? ?????? #?????????? #??????? pic.twitter.com/Z6Aj4WgNHT
— Hromadske.TV (@HromadskeTV) March 1, 2014

The aftermath of clashes between Euromaidan activists and pro-Russian groups in Kharkiv

Not surprisingly, Ukrainians are already announcing their intentions to arm themselves and fight back. Sector Right, a far-right nationalist group that took part in the Euromaidan protests, released this statement:

Being aware of all the dangers that are looming over the Ukrainian state, the headquarters of the Right Sector order all its units to mobilize and arm, and depending on the specific situation to coordinate with the armed forces. We remind all citizens of Ukraine regardless of nationality (including Russians) that our struggle is anti-imperial, not Russophobe. Russian empire will be destroyed. Urge Resistance Movement Caucasus and all liberation movements in Russia to step up their activities.

And Ukraine's acting president, Oleksandr Turchynov, said on his political party's official Twitter account, “We perceive Russia's actions as direct aggression towards the sovereignty of Ukraine.”

During a short press conference on Friday, US President Barack Obama said, “The United States will stand with the international community in affirming that there will be costs for any military intervention in Ukraine.” Earlier today, Valentina Matvienko, chairwoman of Russia's upper house of parliament, said she plans on asking Putin to recall Russia's ambassador to the US as a result of Obama's statement.

A large crowd stormed the regional administration headquarters in Kharkiv on March 1 during a pro-Russian rally.

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A little more than a week after the Ukrainian Parliament ousted President Viktor Yanukovych and Putin's Winter Olympics in Sochi came to an end, Russian troops are now in control over Crimea, a chunk of Ukraine a bit larger than Vermont.

Russian troops are consolidating their hold on the region, and Ukraine's still-shaky interim government is trying to organize a coherent response. While Western attention over the last week had been focused on nearby Russian military exercises, those troops may not be the ones directly intervening in Ukraine.

On Saturday Reuters reported that newly-installed Ukrainian defense minister Ihor Tenyukh stated that the Russian military had recently brought some 6,000 additional personnel into Ukraine. This suggests, although does not confirm, that unmarked Russian troops (i.e. wearing no flags or unit identification) were brought into the Russian naval base at Sevastopol several days in advance. The forces may have then set up their operations and staged their maneuvers directly from the base. It's possible that the subsequent incursions into Crimea proceeded from the naval base, rather than coming directly over the border.

There are reports throughout the pro-Russian eastern regions of Ukraine involving pro-Russian protesters who have seized government buildings and raised the Russian flag. Similar events unfolded just a few days ago when protesters in Crimea stormed local government buildings, raising Russian flags. This has led some to speculate that protests elsewhere in the nation will provide a pretext for Russian intervention there as well.

It is unlikely that events will play out elsewhere in the country the same way that they have in Crimea. The peninsula is of much greater importance to Moscow than the rest of Ukraine. The port of Sevastopol in Crimea has been the home of Russia’s Black Sea Fleet since 1783—the same year Great Britain granted the United States their independence. As Russia’s only warm-water port, it is vital to the Russian navy.

It appears now that the Russian troops carrying out “readiness exercises” right next door to Ukraine are effectively a large reserve contingent, ready to move in should Ukrainian forces attempt to eject the Russian troops in Crimea.

The occupying force appears to be executing a three-phase operation. They first seized key transport and communications nodes, taking control of airports, setting up roadblocks, and moving into other key checkpoints. This allowed Russia to prevent a large movement of people in or out of the area, and restricted the Ukrainian government's response options.

In the second phase, Russian troops spread across Crimea and moved into position to forestall any armed response from the Ukrainian forces already in the area. Ukraine doesn’t maintain a particularly large or robust military presence on the peninsula, and is not equipped to mount offensive or defensive ground operations without support from the mainland.

The largest Ukrainian force on the peninsula is the 36th Brigade of Ukrainian Navy Coastal Defense stationed near the town of Perevalnoe. The contingent has about 3,500 troops, but very limited heavy weapons. The 36th Brigade is suited for a border protection role; it is not equipped to conduct high-intensity operations against regular military units. Russian troops have not assaulted the base, but a contingent of about 40 soldiers mounted in ten armored personnel carriers and ten trucks has moved next to the base—effectively confining the Ukrainian troops to a kind of house arrest. So far the situation in Perevalnoe has remained calm, according to VICE News reports.

A photo from the ongoing standoff between Russian and Ukrainian forces at the army base in Perevalnoe, Crimea. pic.twitter.com/EDxMFUYk8Y

— VICE News (@vicenews) March 2, 2014

The third phase of operations is just getting under way, as Russian forces move into position to defend their gains. Most the Russian forces deployed thus far have been infantry in trucks and APCs. These troops are more than enough for operations against police or paramilitary forces, but would be woefully under-equipped against Ukrainian regular army troops if left unsupported.

Therefore, Russia has started to deploy heavier units into Crimea. A recent CNN report showed Russian self-propelled artillery units on the move (although it incorrectly identified the vehicles as tanks). Recently confirmed video also shows the operational deployment of several flights of Russian helicopters, including Mi-24 Hind gunships. Both artillery and gunships would provide support necessary to defend against a counteroffensive by the Ukrainian military.

In a meeting over the weekend, Defense Minister Tenyukh indicated that Ukrainian forces had been placed on high alert. Ukraine called up its reserves Sunday morning. Bringing regular army troops to full wartime footing is a process that usually takes at least a couple days. If the reserve forces are to be mobilized and activated as full-fledged military units—as opposed to being handed guns and wished the best of luck—the process could take considerably longer.

Ukrainian and Russian troops used to serve alongside each other before the Soviet Union fell apart. This common heritage means that they use fairly similar equipment, organizations, and tactics. The Ukrainian army, while considerably smaller than the overall Russian army, lists a strength of about 150,000 troops. Similarly, Russia is likely to have more modern equipment. Nonetheless, the Ukrainian army (if not the air force or navy) can more or less be considered a competitor to regular Russian army forces.

The Ukrainian army is, on its own, large enough to eject the Russian troops from Crimea, but their ability to hold out against the larger Russian force of 150,000 carrying out “readiness exercises” next door is not as clear. In a long-term conflict, Russia maintains a decisive advantage in manpower and personnel over Ukraine.

According to a recent Daily Beast report, Congressional staffers say they were told that the Russian forces conducting the exercises next to Ukraine have not deployed with the compliment of auxiliary units (such as medical support) that would be expected if the main body of the Russian force were preparing for imminent large-scale, high-intensity operations. The politics of the situation could simply mean that a Ukrainian force capable of holding its ground and giving Russia a bloody nose might be sufficient to force a political resolution.

As of the time of writing, VICE News has received no information suggesting that US or other Western forces are preparing any sort of military response or intervention.

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CWB jacket and shorts, Nike sneakers, vintage hat

PHOTOS BY CAROLINE MACKINTOSH

STYLIST: ANEES PETERSEN

Model: Geoff from John Wizards

Clothing designed by Anees Petersen

CWB jacket, vintage sunglasses; Vintage top, Y&L shorts and pants, Nike sneakers and bag, CWB hat

Vintage t-shirt and running tights, Nike sneakers, Columbia hat, Huf bag; Vintage hat, 2bop t-shirt, CWB shirt

Y&L t-shirt, jersey and pants, vintage sneakers, 2bop hat

2bop t-shirt, CWB shirt, vintage shorts and hat; Y&L t-shirt, jersey and pants, 2bop hat

Columbia jacket, Black In Black goggles; Columbia Jacket, CWB shorts, Nike sneakers, Black In Black goggles

Vintage top, CWB hat; 2bop t-shirt, CWB shirt, vintage shorts and hat

American Apparel tank, Y&L t-shirt and jersey, 2bop hat; CWB shorts, Y&L pants, Island Style bag

CWB shorts, Y&L pants, Nike sneakers, Island Style bag

By now, the tale of woe that is Corey’s Angels is the stuff of legend. We went to his birthday party last year, took a bunch of photos he claimed were doctored to make the party look bad, and then our writer was accused of being a pervert. The irony of Corey Feldman accusing someone of sexual deviancy at a party where he charged men $250 to hang around women in lingerie was clearly lost on him.  

After a few weeks of Corey furiously tweeting his displeasure over the article, shit died down. Corey went back to retweeting any and all compliments he could find, and all seemed normal… until we saw an ad for a Corey’s Angels Valentine’s Day party. Which was, naturally, scheduled for February 22nd.

It’d be fair to assume we would have learned our lesson and stayed away this time, but like the producers of Lost Boys 2, we went greedily went back for seconds despite having every reason in the world not to. Through cunning, guile, and perseverance (and a $300 entrance fee), we made it back to the Feldmansion.

Obviously, under no circumstance, would Corey allow someone from VICE back to one of his "parties," so I came up with a pseudonym and invented the backstory that my guest was from out of town and looking to get crazy. The party had a dress code demanding that all men wear suits, so I sucked in my gut and squeezed into my Sunday best. Cameras were banned this time around, so I took the cartoonist Johnny Ryan with me to draw what happened.

If $300 seems like a lot for two grown men to go to a party, you’ll be horrified to learn that it almost cost more, as Corey’s assistant called me up and tried to claim that the advertised “Early Bird Special” on their website should have been discontinued before we bought our tickets and that we'd need to give Corey an extra $200. We simply refused to pay more and went on our way.

As with any sequel, I looked forward to all my favorite characters coming back (Leathery Model, Sad Girl in Glasses, Street Fighter 2 machine, DJ Black Eyed Peas, and Brazilian Carnival Dancer), but in an even wackier, more elaborate scenario. For instance, in classic Corey Feldman film Gremlins, the titular monsters wreak havoc on a small town, but in Gremlins 2: The New Batch, the Gremlins are let loose in New York City, take over an entire skyscraper, and stage an elaborate musical number. There’s also a female Gremlin with big Gremlin tits, and Corey Feldman never shows up, which is kinda like how my night at Corey’s Valentine’s Day party played out.

We arrived at the party right at 9 PM, hoping that we would beat the rush of people, snag some free beverages, and get a little quality time with Corey. A very friendly man working the door (and by “working the door,” I mean standing in front of the driveway that leads to the guest house of a large McMansion where Corey lives) explained that there was still a ton of party prep to finish and that they’d be ready to let us in in 45 minutes.

Forty-five minutes stretched to an hour, and we were finally ushered inside. Despite its being an hour after the scheduled start time, we were half of the number of guests present (there were four, total) and remained as such well past 11 PM.

The party planners and security staff (who outnumbered the guests by a significant margin all night) let us know that only the game room was open. They were apologetic, as though there were wings of the house that would eventually be opened that had some inherent value the game room lacked.

“Game room” is probably an inaccurate usage of the term. There was a dartboard, but the room was too small to throw pointy projectiles in. The Street Fighter 2 machine was unplugged. There was a pool table, but the Monster Energy Drink towels, plastic plates, and assorted junk on it screamed “do not use me for my intended purpose.”

The only other guests at the party were two droopy-eyed young girls firmly planted on a couch, frantically texting hoping to convince someone else to join them. “I’m like, ‘Hey, come to this party in Encino,’” one said to the other. They were not successful.

I was content to stand around drinking lukewarm beverages all night, but the bartender alerted me to the fact that she only had six beers left in the fridge. At first, I was horrified at this clear lack of preparation, but after looking around at the empty room, I realized maybe they were better prepared than I thought.

I went back outside to enjoy my drink in peace. The Corey’s Angels logo was projected on the side of the house. The cabanas, advertised as available for the low, low price of $2,500 ($1,500 for Early Birds), sat empty. There were some novelty penis whistles and leftover Valentine’s candy in each cabana. There were actually cock decorations scattered around everywhere. There was a little dick piñata sitting next to the pool that, upon closer inspection, was confirmed to be empty.

Two security guards set up chairs around the driveway, which made me think there’d be a fashion show or a processional—something that would liven up the funereal atmosphere. I asked what the purpose of the chairs was, and I was told that they were “for the dance floor.” Maybe I don’t get out much, but I don’t know many clubs that have rows of plastic chairs lining their dance floors. Usually, chairs are for sitting and dance floors are for dancing. The two activities are diametrically opposed, unless the dancing is of the lap variety. 

Our host, presumably aware of the lack of attendees, stayed sequestered in his upstairs bedroom. Occasionally, he walked by the window that faced the dance floor, stared out at the empty abyss, and went back to frolicking with his Angels. The sounds of giggling and camera shutters were the only noises cutting through the incessant bass of the generic electronic music offered up by our DJ.  I had no idea what was going on in that room, but some things are better left to the imagination.

Three Asian people arrived around 11:30 (making seven confirmed guests), though none of them were adhering to the dress code. The man was not wearing a suit, and his two female companions had the audacity to wear clothes over their lingerie. I considered informing security, but the fact that I showed up to a Corey’s Angels party on time already made me look like a fucking narc. I didn’t need to make it worse.

Another group arrived, and I decided to see if they had any clue as to Corey’s whereabouts. A bald man whose claim to fame was “working in Beverly Hills” said he and his female companion were old friends of Corey's. “He usually comes out around 11:30,” he said. By the time we finished discussing scintillating topics like her upcoming clothing line and the joys of high school football, the number of guests had reached around 10 or 15.

Then finally, Corey came down the stairs flanked by the glorious Angels, looking like a rockabilly Beetlejuice. He wore a gold-striped suit, had his hair slicked back, and sported giant Bono-esque shades. A certain buzz filled the house, and the living room was finally opened up. I perused his large DVD collection (presumably, Corey hasn’t gotten Netflix since he moved).

I didn’t recognize any of the Angels from the last event, though I should be forgiven for being incapable of telling them apart. I saw Corey give marching orders to an Angel dressed in red lingerie. After he was done telling her he wanted this to be the “perfect party,” she walked over to us and commenced making small talk, telling us her name was Daisy.  She was better at pretending to flirt than I thought she would be. I could see Daisy graduating to the Playboy Mansion in no time. She had moxie.

A muscular, blonde Angel with massive biceps made a beeline to the Street Fighter 2 machine, which had recently been plugged in. I’d never called anyone’s arms “guns” earnestly until that evening. Fear seized my body as I realized that if Corey found out I worked for VICE, he’d sic his Super Mega Angel on me and she’d rip my dick off, salt and cure it, and turn it into cock jerky.

All I wanted to do was talk to Corey, maybe get him to tell me what “Ascension Millennium” means and sign my copy of Coreyography before I went home. Surely, he’ll mingle with his few guests as a sign of gratitude, I thought.

Nope. Corey squirreled himself and his preferred Angels away in a cabana, and he had his guileless assistant run to and from the bar bringing him drinks. He puffed on an e-cigarette and took some “official” posed photos with the girls.

Just as the night was really about to pop off and the attendance figure threatened to break 20, a helicopter started circling the residence, shining a huge spotlight into the front yard. Some of the Angels speculated that it was TMZ trying to get a glimpse at this glamorous, VIP-only event. One really frisky gal shook her breasts in full view of the spotlight, pointed at the helicopter, and screamed to Corey, “This is when you know you’ve made it!”

At first sight of the cops, Corey ran away and hid somewhere. 

Not long after, a lone police officer approached the house and calmly asked for the music to be turned off. You see, the new Feldmansion is in a quiet residential part of Encino, one full of older, conservative people not used to fancy Hollywood shindigs, and they weren’t about to have their night ruined by incessant techno beats. The music was shut off, and we were all forced to go back inside the game room, which comfortably fit those who hadn’t already left.

Corey never returned. It wasn’t enough that he had charged us all for the privilege of standing around his empty house—he also thought it would be totally cool to run away at the first sign of trouble.

Whereas the first Corey’s Angels party was a triumphant declaration of presumed relevance with the Feldmeister front and center, this time Corey couldn’t be bothered to hang out, and there wasn’t even any cake or Brazilian dancers. Like Gremlins 2, this party left me scratching my head. The day after the party, I emailed Corey's "assistant" to ask about a refund. I am yet to receive a reply. 

Dave Schilling is also kind of a comedian. See him and some of VICE's favorite west coast contributors at ENTITLEMENT with special guest Emily Heller; Wednesday, March 5 at Los Globos on Sunset Blvd. in Silver Lake. Follow him on Twitter.

Matthew Leifheit is photo editor of VICE. Follow him on Twitter.

During the Oscars last night, Cadillac aired their controversial new "American exceptionalism" commercial, which originally premiered during the Winter Olympics. It features actor and devout Catholic, Neal McDonough, perfectly cast as “Arrogant American Asshole,” shitting on the rest of the lazy world. It is one of the worst car ads ever produced.

Even if you know nothing about ad agency culture, you know by watching Mad Men that an auto account is the ultimate win—the marque piece of business to have on your reel. The advertising creative revolution of the 1960s was ignited by car ads—specifically the great Doyle Bane Bernbach Volkswagen work. This might lead you to think, due to the intense competition, that the resulting car ads would be brilliant works of art. But the ads—at least in America—are actually fucking awful, nearly across the board.

Cadillac ELR: “Poolside”

This commercial has already gotten some press: Liberals hate it; Conservatives love it. Me? I’m a Libertarian, so I don’t give a shit about the politics expressed in a car ad. But what’s the ad selling? Amurica. And, oh yeah, there’s a car in the spot—a Commie electric car that costs $75,000. While McDonough is busy bashing France with his juvenile speech, Cadillac forgets to sell me on the fucking car. N'est-ce pas, dumbasses?

Cadillac’s advertising director Craig Bierley says people have “misconstrued” the ad (in other words, he’s calling you consumers stupid). Here’s some of his MBA degree-fueled bullshit defending the spot.

“It's basically saying hard work creates its own luck. In order to achieve it, you just have to believe anything's possible. You have to believe in yourself, you have to believe in possibilities. It's really about optimism. It's really a fundamental human truth: optimism about creating your own future. It's not about materialism."

NO, not at all.

Ad agency: Rogue, which is a new shop with a cool name that is really just a bunch of existing Interpublic agency employees thrown together specifically to win the Cadillac account (about $250 million, annually).

Wardrobe note: McDounough’s suit was one size too tight.

Chrysler: “America’s Import”

Here’s another ad selling me on my country, and not cars, starring a hooey-spouting Bob Dylan. The spot, which first aired during the Super Bowl, is an American tragedy that somebody needs to maybe write a folk song about.

Many critics missed the point: it’s not Bob Dylan that made this ad so awful—using him could have made for an interesting commercial. No, it’s how he was used, as a doddering prop, saying a copywriter’s flat, uninspired, disjointed words, words nothing like Dylan’s lyrics. "What’s more American than America?"  "Like a Rolling Stone" is pretty damn American.

The spot is a bunch of copy bites—"You can’t fake true cool" (what?)—sloppily stitched together over top of incoherent images of "Americana." Cowboys. Cheerleaders. Dr. J. Rosie the Riveter tattoo. Rosie the Riveter poster (in case you missed the tattoo). Woman with child. Vintage woman with child. Close-up of hot girl with blowjob lips. Back to the cowboy (NEEDS MORE COWBOY), etc. And since a lot Americans weren’t going to know who the fuck this slowly-speaking old man was, let’s slip in a shot of Dylan staring at his own music books. Fucking fan-tastic.

And then, just like Cadillac, let’s throw in some Cold War era, junior-high-school-term-paper-level jingoism:

"So let Germany brew your beer, let Switzerland make your watch, let Asia assemble your phone..." Yeah, and let Fiat wholly own your "American" car company. It’s just embarrassingly bad ad copy. I apologize, Tom McElligott. I apologize, Bill Bernbach’s ghost.

Ad agency: GlobalHue, whose homepage copywriter (the same one?) says they have "deep expertise in activating influence."

Jeep: “Restless”

This is the last one for today, because I can’t take this shit anymore.

The spot—which sounds like it was written by an account executive who thinks he’s the sober reincarnation of Jack Kerouac—also first aired during the Super Bowl. It also sounds like the voiceover dude just got out of bed at 2 PM, and is practicing the script in the bathroom mirror. Some of the rubbish copy:

“Restlessness starts with an itch, and ends in progress.” Progress? What the fuck are you talking about, sleepy Millennial dude?

“Genetics have a voice"—no, they don’t—"you can only deny so long. They scream"—no, they don’t—"‘go, run, act, find, dare.’”

"Each tick of the old clock... a reminder that stillness is what actually kills us.” No, most of the times it’s genetics, and occasionally, from getting hit by a Jeep Cherokee.

Ad agency: Wieden & Kennedy, which is obviously a husk of what Wieden & Kennedy was 20 years ago.

Closing request: Would all you ambitious, young copywriters currently on American car accounts please quit your jobs, and go finish your shitty American novel so you can get all these shitty turns of phrases out of your system? Then come back to ad agency life and start writing real, good ads. Thank you.

Photo via Flickr user Flinqr

I don’t think that most people are all that concerned about an apple that’s a little bit brown. After you cut up some apple slices and leave them out for a few minutes in the open air, the fruit begins to oxidize—it’s part of nature, and we understand that it tastes just as good. If that's how you feel, then Okanagan Specialty Fruits isn’t interested in you as a customer. The British Columbia–based fruit grower has developed the so-called Arctic Apple, the first non-oxidizing apple. And the genetically modified fruit—spliced with an antibiotic gene called Kanamycin—is stirring up nearly as much controversy as Eve’s apple.

“We’re all on the same page. We are not in support of this apple,” said Jim Allen, president of the New York Apple Association, of growers’ sentiment. “As an industry, we have been able to say forever that apples are not GM [genetically modified]. We have never crossed that line, and we don’t want to do so now.”

Allen said he worried that genetically modified apples might topple the already struggling North American apple-export market. That’s because Europe has much stricter food-safety regulations than the US; as a result, the EU has already slashed its import of US grown apples, objecting to American growers’ use of waxes (to make the apples shiny) and certain chemicals that prevent “scald,” a variety of conditions that blemish the apples but don’t affect their taste. US apple exports to Europe dropped by 73 percent between 2006 and 2012, causing New York senators Chuck Schumer and Kirsten Gillibrand to call upon the EU to reconsider its import barriers. 

Adding a genetically modified apple to the mix could be the final bullet to the already floundering apple-export industry. The EU has strict regulations on which GM crops it will import; crops containing “antibiotic marker genes,” like the one used by Arctic Apples, are a strict no-go as of 2004. If they’re approved by the FDA, the USDA, and their Canadian counterparts—as seems likely by later this year—Arctic Apples would be the only GM apple on the market. But traditional apple growers fear that their fruit trees could become cross-pollinated with Arctic Apples, a phenomenon that has plagued farmers—and produced many lawsuits—since the mid 90s, when genetically modified crops began to be widely planted. And if traditional apples do get cross-pollinated—or if the EU even fears that they might—exports could drop even lower. 

“We do depend on exports tremendously, and the EU is deaf on GMOs,” Allen said.  

The makers of Arctic Apples insist that cross-pollination is not an issue. “Growing an Arctic orchard next to a conventional orchard is akin to growing Galas next to Granny Smiths—they don’t become each other,” said Neal Carter, president of Okanagan Specialty Fruits. “Similarly, Arctic apples will not make neighboring orchards ‘GMO.’”

Because apple blossoms are pollinated by bees and not by wind, Carter said, the risk of bee visits between orchards is minimal. “Bees typically stay close to the hive when ample food is present, such as in an orchard in bloom, and their movement is further restricted among dense plantings common in apple orchards,” he said. 

Allen doesn’t buy that argument. “There would be cross-pollination,” he said. 

The issue won’t be settled for a few more years. Although Arctic Apples will likely soon receive commercial approval, it will take time to convince apple growers to take a risk on producing them, given general consumer distrust of GM foods. And such a gamble would be a pricey one, with orchard land going for about $15,000–$20,000 per acre, according to Allen. Once the Arctic orchards do get planted, it will take years for the trees to reach maturity and produce fruit.

Until then, we’ll just have to dream about all the possibilities of an apple that doesn’t brown. Or just eat an oxidized regular apple and go about our daily lives.

Follow Lauren Rothman on Twitter.