Above, wine pool.

Tokyo feels like the world's entertainment capital, where idle boredom is an impossible option. Whether it’s going to an arcade, taking care of a digital pet on your cellphone, or heading over to a cuddle cafe, personal amusement is obtained on demand, through an infinite number of avenues. But with all of these unending lists of pleasurable options, there also seems to be an unspoken discipline in Japanese culture; a silent code that dictates that recreation strictly occur before and after your daily obligations. 

It’s because of this mentality that certain types of pre-packaged entertainment getaways appear to be more prevalent in Japan than the United States. Onsen (hot springs) are one of the most common staycation preferences amongst Japanese locals. With more than 25,000 naturally-occurring mineral hot springs across the country, Japan's geothermal areas help power 3,000 spa resorts. Ranging from the natural to the man-made, these hot springs come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Traditional onsen are a collection of shallow pools where men and women gather separately to hang out in the nude and recoup from the daily grind. Onsen offer a variety of baths with jets, waterfalls, and weak, non-hazardous currents of electricity running through their lukewarm, rejuvenating waters. 

On a recent trip to Tokyo, Japan, the possibility of bathing inside of a flavored onsen appeared on my radar. My girlfriend and I decided to pay a visit to Hakone Kowakien Yunessun, a family-friendly resort two hours southwest of Tokyo, where you can swim in a pool of green tea, wine, coffee, or sake.

Elena in a giant pool of green tea.

Like any other onsen, visible tattoos of any kind are forbidden at the Yunessun resort. I saw a lot of bandages covering biceps, ankles, and the lower area of women’s backs. If you come to the Yunessun with a lot of ink to cover, you’re forced to buy a white spandex shirt that you are required to wear throughout the spa day.

A spa guard maintains order.

And while most traditional onsen allow for nudity in same-sex hot springs, going naked is not permitted inside the Yunessun so that both sexes can linger in harmony amongst green tea, coffee, sake, and wine pools. Most adults rent tie-dyed ponchos to wear outside of the water. Their uniformity made the whole place look like some sort of aquatic cult.

Rodeo Mountain and its green tea lake.

As we walked toward the park’s "Yutopia" section, we passed through "God's Aegean Sea," a giant pool surrounded by a towering mosaic of the Grecian countryside. Just beyond this faux-ocean was "Rodeo Mountain," a large, man-made crag with a slide that dumped visitors into a lake of green tea. Inside of the mountain’s hollow structure was a small, dark, grotto where college-age Japanese couples waded in a foot of water, silently holding onto each other while taking selfies.

In "Yutopia," there were churning baths containing a variety of traditional liquids, all of which were considered “good for the skin.” Despite the presence of coffee and sake baths, it was the Yunessun’s wine bath that seemed like the obvious choice for the ultimate relaxation experience. 

Chlorinated wine spa.

Looming over a purple basin of murky water, a giant bottle of merlot spit out diluted wine into a pool the size and depth of a minivan. As we started wading into the chlorinated, grape-infused waters, a young boy followed behind, carrying a huge plastic bottle held together by duct tape. It looked like a magnum of laundry detergent. Convulsing with the bottle in hand, he started pouring red wine onto everyone in the pool, including a newborn baby. The child’s mother covered its eyes as the wine splashed into its gaping mouth. We all licked at the cheap supermarket alcohol that flowed down our faces, despite the two foreboding words of English the boy mouthed in our direction, "No drink."

In the final stretch of our spa day, we decided to partake in one of the more traditional hot springs in the back of the park. Walking up to the pool, we spotted a teenage girl and a chunky, tattooed, teenage boy who was wearing a spandex shirt, quietly engaged in an intense dry-humping session inside of its shallow waters. 

The grotto.

We watched and waited. 

When the pair finally finished, we slid into the warm waters to decompress after a long day of relaxation. Like so many couples that came before us, we sat in a pool of complete silence.

See more of Chris Maggio's photography at ChrisMaggio.biz

In the video, an Egyptian cop fires what looks a lot like a shotgun into Cairo University. Firing and reloading and firing again. Another officer waves at the students running away, a second shotgun in his hands. In another video, 19-year-old student Mohamed Reda is lying on the floor, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Mohamed Reda died ten days ago.

Most people say it was the police—that is, most people apart from the police. The Interior Ministry claimed they didn't fire anything other than tear gas on November 28, although videos from outside the university suggested otherwise. Then an initial forensic report said Mohamed had died from three "gunshot wounds," although the conclusion prosecutors drew blamed "Muslim Brotherhood students" inside the university. In the end, interior minister Mohamed Ibrahim said the birdshot rounds used were not police issue: it had to have been someone else.

However Dr. Hazem Hossam, one forensic pathologist at Cairo's Zeinhom morgue who has seen the final autopsy report, told me that Reda was killed by four-millimeter birdshot rounds, the same type that killed dozens on Mohamed Mahmoud street during the protests against the constitution in November 2011.

All photos by Abdelrahman Elshamy

The shooting brings back other dank memories of Mohamed Mahmoud street and the four-day cavalcade of violence between anti-government protesters and police it witnessed, now engrained in Egypt's revolutionary memory. One officer—"The Eye Sniper"—was charged with deliberately aiming at protesters' eyes. There are videos from those days showing police ripping birdshot into crowds of flesh, shooting from the ground, from rooftops, at close-range; a how-to guide in police brutality. An independent fact-finding commission later found police had deliberately used excessive and lethal force: "deliberate killings," they called it. But then, like now, authorities denied the MoI had cartouche rounds in the armory. Again video evidence, and the bodies lying in the morgues, proved otherwise.

The university has launched an investigation, while students filed a claim against the police at the prosecutor's office earlier this week. Other videos and photos from the incident also showed the police were responsible. When a journalist asked what the response would be if it turned out the police didn't do this, Reda's mother (sat at the front wringing her hands, visibly devastated, throughout) turned round angrily: "When has the Interior Ministry ever said anything and it's not been lies? When have they ever released an honest report, or said anything and we've known that it's true?" The room applauded.

Most people are in no doubt about who killed Mohamed Reda. And now students have become a leading force in opposing the government to take accountability. Universities are one of the few places left where Egyptians are protesting regularly and defiantly against the new law on demonstrations, which rights groups and activists have dismissed as "repressive" and "draconian."

After Cairo University's president openly blamed the Interior Ministry, students on campus are hoping the administration will deliver on its initially outspoken criticism. But are students and staff working together against the authorities? "I wouldn't go as far as saying we're unified," said investigation committee spokesman, Ramzy Mohamed. "Call it collaboration."

"We are waiting to see if they'll prove their solidarity." Meanwhile, professors have joined an open-ended strike in solidarity with their students.

The majority on campus never experienced the old Mubarak-era police presence. The incursions, tear gas, and shootings are new. Most here started college after the 2011 revolution, when security guards replaced the control of Interior Ministry police. Engineering student Mostafa Ahmed told me, "These are students who've never smelt tear gas before and now they're seeing the blood of their colleagues."

I ask second-year civil engineer Mahmoud Khairy if he feels secure. "No, I don't. The police force that should be protecting us is the reason we're being killed. Most of us don't feel safe at all."

The fact this has happened before doesn't help. Last month another student Abdel Ghany Mahmoud was killed by birdshot when police stormed Al-Azhar University during protests. The campus in east Cairo has an avowedly Islamist student body. Then authorities and university administration defended the raid, blaming students for "hindering the educational process." It was another step in the government trying to restore order at universities across the country, using police inside campuses in a way not seen since before the revolution.

"Only the oldest students here know the meaning of state security on campus," engineer Ahmed Hammad said. As a student union rep read out a statement about the Reda investigation, a crowd of hundreds cheered and chanted behind us. Others are standing beside the colorful new mural remembering student martyrs killed recently—including another engineering student, Mahmoud Abdel Hakeem, shot on this year's Mohamed Mahmoud anniversary.

This isn't as simple as students versus the police;  Egyptian politics is rarely that simple.

"There is a big conflict between the army and the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt," said Mohamed Abd El Salam, from the Association for Freedom of Thought and Expression. "And because it's happening outside, it's happening inside universities as well."

The Muslim Brotherhood dubbed Reda "the anti-protest martyr" two days after he died, which some claim is an attempt to claim him as their own. "Egyptian youths—especially students—have been the powerhouse of all activities in liberty squares across the nation, and the beating heart of the Revolution," it said. And yet there are plenty of activists who would say whatever revolution the Brotherhood's is, they don't want to be a part of.

"The Brotherhood are trying to exploit this anger against the police for their own political benefit," Abd El Salam claimed. "But at the same time the police are trying to exploit it, building up this propaganda that anti-coup students killed Mohamed Reda. And this is bullshit." Mohamed's death has been a far more difficult one for the authorities to explain away. Everyone I spoke with said he was not Brotherhood, or affiliated with any political group. Moral hypocrisy maybe, but the murder of a 19-year-old on campus has outraged more in Egypt because he was not an Islamist.

Whatever divisions exist in Egyptian society right now, they are not as viscerally apparent at Cairo University. Waiting next to a lamppost bruised by a birdshot round, an anti-Brotherhood student called over a pro-Morsi supporter to chat with us. "The only tensions are with groups who are pro-coup or pro-Sisi," Mohamed Said, a Brotherhood supporter, claimed.

"We've seen our colleague die, there is a new momentum now. Everyone is angry." 

@TomWRollins

Larry Flynt. Photo via

Larry Flynt has been in the press lately for something a bit more grim than freedom of speech or porn. The 63-year-old media tycoon has been speaking out about the death penalty in America and his opposition to it; the impetus was the scheduled execution of Joseph Paul Franklin, the man who shot Flynt back in 1978, paralyzing him from the waist down. He had attempted to kill Flynt that day, but Flynt lived—although he has now spent as much of his life in a wheelchair as he did walking. The pain from the injuries was constant and lead to a painkiller addiction, which then resulted in an overdose and a stroke that affected his speech. But you could say he's lucky, because all but one of Franklin's other targets died from their injuries.

Franklin is now dead too. He was finally executed on November 20 by the state of Missouri—where he spent 15 years on death row—by injection of the controversial drug pentobarbital, which had prior been used to euthanize animals. It was the first time Missouri had used the drug since switching from the standard three-drug execution cocktail to a single-drug injection of propofol (the same drug that killed Michael Jackson) the year before. When supplies of propofol ran low, the state decided to go with pentobarbital, and their test subject was Franklin, who by all accounts seemed to suffer when the drug was administered. Although he had confessed to heinous crimes—including killing two teenagers, and at least six other people—a prominent psychiatrist had diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic, and therefore unfit to stand trial. 

Flynt campaigned to halt the execution, suing the state and demanding to unseal documents that would reveal their secretive execution process. He didn’t succeed in saving Franklin’s life; just as Franklin, ironically, did not succeed in taking Flynt’s.

I think about what it must have been like for him that afternoon 35 years ago, feeling two bullets rip through his abdomen. Hunted, like prey, by an unseen sniper in broad daylight; how that must have affected his perception of the world and his surroundings. And yet, Flynt tells me he never felt anger for his attacker, or any anger at all. "I'm an optimist," he says. And he's optimistic about something else: That, one day, the practice of punishing murder with murder will become obsolete.

Joseph Paul Franklin

VICE: How did you feel when you heard that Joseph Paul Franklin was executed?
Larry Flynt: I had no feelings either way. I've been against the death penalty all my life, but it has nothing to do with him. I don't think the government should be in the business of killing people.

Why have you not spoken about the death penalty before?
It's always been an opinion of mine, but I've never been very vocal about it, because I see the politics as too difficult to change. When I wrote that page for the Hollywood Reporter, I had no idea it was gonna go viral. And all of a sudden, people all over the world wanted to talk to me about the death penalty. 

Do you think you will continue to be vocal about it?
I'm not making it a crusade, but I'll always give my opinion when I asked about it. I have opinions about a lot of things.

What do you think it is about the US that makes us one of the few nations in the world that still actively practice capital punishment?
That's what bothers me. The biggest proponents in the world of the death penalty are Iran, China and the United States. I just don't think we should be lumped in the same category as those barbarians. I could support the death penalty if it was a deterrent, but it's not, and there's no scientific or historic evidence that indicates that it is a deterrent. You can't look at it as a punishment to the crime, because if you expel somebody in a few seconds with a lethal injection, the punishment is over with, but if you put somebody in a 4x6 cell for the rest of their lives, they're going to have a lot of suffering that they're gonna have to do. So if you really want to make someone suffer, you're going to have to do better than execute them.

Why do some people support it despite the high margin of error, the barbaric forms of execution, and the expense of it?They're not practical. They're so emotionally caught up, they just want the person executed. It makes absolutely no sense at all. If someone's been the victim of a horrific crime, they just want the person dead, and not realizing they're wrong. Temporarily, you might want that sort of vengeance, but that's not the kind of justice that serves the country the best. Our system can't survive with a vigilante type of justice. 

Still, a recent Gallup poll showed that death penalty support is the lowest it’s been in 40 years. Why do you think Americans are rethinking the death penalty?
I don't know why, but it's encouraging to see. I'm glad the polls are looking much better. 20 years ago, 80 percent supported the death penalty, and now it's only about 50/50. You know, look how same sex marriage has evolved. No one ever thought, ten years ago, that it would evolve the way it has. Attitudes do change. And once people take the time to analyze the issues, they usually come up with a lot of answers. 

Franklin would not have shot you had he not had access to a gun. What is your feeling on gun control in the US?
People could still have guns for sporting means, but the amount of guns we have now is over 300 million. We don’t need that many guns. 

So if it weren’t for the amount of guns in this country, do you think we would have less crime? 
The majority of the crime rate is because of poverty and unemployment and lack of education. If people are properly educated, they commit less crime than people who are not educated. This is a fundamental problem. When we allow our schools to be underfunded, we don't get a proper education for the children to see that they can go on into a workforce where they can make money and not have to live a life of crime. It's not all of a sudden that the country's gone nuts or something, that we've become a violence-prone society for no reason. There is a reason, and that reason is at its core why we're not functioning well as a society.

Why is our education system failing?
It's easy for politicians to cut. Kids don't complain; they're not old enough to complain. The politicians take 100% of the blame. They don't worry about the education of our youth.

Speaking of politicians, what would you say to Rick Perry, who seems to be merciless when it comes to carrying out executions?
He's a politician with a particular mindset. He could care less about the death penalty. If he feels that it helps him politically, he's gonna be for it. 

Even if it means using untested drugs that can cause pain and suffering, like the pentobarbital used to execute Joseph Franklin, which violates the Eighth Amendment.
Many pharmaceutical companies have expressed opposition to their drugs being used to take people's lives. Anesthesiologists, in medicine, they take an oath to do no harm. They're not supposed to be killing people. There's a lot of hypocrisy involved. But they'll find some other ways to kill them until the law is changed. 

Sunset over Bairro Operário in Luanda. Photos by Jon Schubert

Rarely covered in the English-speaking press because of its past as a Portuguese colony, the behavior of the government in Angola is becoming increasingly troubling. Crony capitalism isn't rare on the African continent—or indeed anywhere else in the world—but Angola's iteration is particularly extreme. Following a civil war that ran on and off from the nation's independence from Portugal in 1975 all the way to 2002, Angola’s elite—overseen by 71-year old President José Eduardo dos Santos—has fed greedily at a trough of oil and gas. Dos Santos’ daughter, Isabel, is the richest woman in Africa. Angola is the second largest oil producer in Africa, has long been a major partner for BP and is seen as a place for big companies to make big bucks.

Now, though, the southwest African country has crept into the news for its banning of Islam, following the closure of dozens of mosques in this overwhelmingly Catholic country. The government has hid behind crafty legal talk. “There are eight Islamic denominations here, all of which requested registration. But none fulfilled legal requisites so they can't practice their faith until concluding the process," Foreign Minister Georges Chikoti told the press. That seems to be a convoluted admission that the government is trying to keep an eye on those it is suspicious of.

Street vendors in the São Paulo neighbourhood of Luanda, the Angolan capital

The “foreignness” of Muslims has been played up and, as it is in many non-Muslim countries, used as a political football or a way of stirring up ill-feeling. The threat of “Islamic terrorism” is invoked, despite there being no factual evidence for this in Angola. A number of street vendors in Angola’s capital, Luanda, are Muslim migrants from West Africa, or single women trying to earn a living for their family, and the government has been trying to clean them off the streets. Luanda, like London or New York, is a gleaming monument to global capital, a metropolis repeatedly held up as an incarnation of the “Africa rising” meme, full of Chinese-built towers. It is also the capital city of a country in which 70 percent of the population live on less than $2 a day alongside an elite with a penchant for Porsches.

While the obstruction of Islam says something about the ugliness of the ruling system in Angola, it is also something of a red herring, in that it has distracted attention from the ill health of President Dos Santos and the growing protest movement inside the country. Recently, leaked documents from the Ministry of Interior brought to light the abduction, torture, and eventual killing of two retired soldiers who organized a protest over unpaid pensions. António Alves Kamulingue and Isaías Sebastião Cassule were thrown into the crocodile-infested Bengo River by members of the Angolan security and intelligence service, SINSE. Then, last weekend, Manuel de Carvalho, also known as "Ganga," an activist in the Angola opposition party CASA-CE, was shot by members of the Presidential Security Unit while out distributing pamphlets relating to the deaths of the two retired soldiers.

Independence Square, where most political demonstrations (try to) gather

Hours after the shooting, UNITA, now the main opposition party, held one of the most significant rallies since the end of the civil war. Three hundred demonstrators were detained and the police used tear gas to disperse crowds. As Leslie Lefkow of Human Rights Watch told me, "Political tensions are rising because of the murdered activists but also because of the government's broader clampdown on protests and free speech. It's a potentially combustible mix, especially as questions mount over the president's health and the succession."

The president’s health is key here, as he has yet to announce his succession plan and this potential weakness may have been a reason for the leak that detailed the killing of the two retired soldiers. President Dos Santos has been in Barcelona since the beginning of the month and one of Angola’s few independent media sites, Maka Angola, cites sources who say Dos Santos “suffered a prostatic renal crisis, which required him to spend at least 30 days under observation." The government denies this and says Dos Santos is doing just fine. Perhaps he’s just a big Gaudi fan.

Maka Angola is run by an independent journalist called Rafael Marques. The government likes to point to his existence as proof that they allow criticism of their regime, but they have also thrown a total of 11 criminal defamation charges his way and have had him beaten up.

Construction in downtown Luanda

This crackdown on protesting and the continued stranglehold on the media and civil society is showing people how alienated they really are. In a country that generates a vast amount of wealth, inequality is staggering. As Angola expert Jon Schubert of the University of Edinburgh told me, “There’s a post-war consensus of ‘peace and stability’ to discredit any form of criticism that has so far been replicated across the social spectrum, but since the first youth demonstrations in April 2011, this consensus has been broken. This, in turn, questions the legitimacy of a president who is clinging on to power, and whose families and cronies have looted the country. The 'trickle down' effect of neo-liberalism is nowhere to be seen in the daily lives of people, and thus people are—understandably—asking where the promised ‘benefits of peace’ are.”

The people protesting on the streets right now are from a wide range of backgrounds. There are organized political parties, war veterans, and then a varied cross-section of young people who feel betrayed by the regime. Some are middle- and upper-class kids who come from families that were traditionally associated with the regime. Some are street vendors. Many more are from an emerging class of young activists who work a number of jobs to survive on top of volunteering and studying in their spare time. They cannot be easily defined as a group.

While they are monitored and beaten up, their government continues to strike big deals with big companies and Western governments. The British foreign office showed a real flair for timing when they announced, a couple of days after the Angolan Ministry of Interior leak that revealed the killing of the two war veterans, a new “High Level Prosperity” partnership with five African countries, including Angola. All five countries have oil and gas deposits and the deal does nothing more than highlight the commercialism at the heart of current British foreign policy.

Downtown Luanda, with the Assembly of the Republic (parliament) in front

Angola is a relatively new market for the British, who traditionally have stronger trade ties with former colonies. As a British Foreign Office spokesperson told me, the new partnership with Angola was considered purely on economic grounds and the political situation in the country was a separate issue.

In Portugal too, economic expediency has taken precedence over political correctness. The Portuguese Central Investigation and Criminal Prosecution Department recently announced that it was closing preliminary corruption investigations into two top Angolan leaders, vice-president and former state oil company boss, Manuel Domingos Vicente, and General Francisco Higino Lopes Carneiro. Portuguese Prosecutor Paulo Gonçalves said he hoped this would “contribute to clearing up the atmosphere of diplomatic tension that has tarnished the friendship between the two brotherly peoples with misunderstandings." The former colonial power's economy is propped up on Angolan investment.

The British Foreign Office spokesperson told me that, “We were keen that the pilot extended beyond countries the UK had historic ties with—i.e. Francophone and Lusophone markets.” New markets, new frontiers: this is the language of the second scramble for Africa—it’s just that in Angola, there is an elite with as much money and power as their counterparts in the West. Angola may be thousands of miles away, but it’s closer than we think.

@oscarrickettnow

Rami, pictured middle right

Rami Aysha was investigating Hezbollah's curious practice of selling arms to the Syrian rebels—despite sending fighters to aid the side of Assad—when he was kidnapped at gunpoint. After being held, beaten, and interrogated by Hezbollah, he was handed over to the Lebanese authorities, who released him on bail on trumped up charges of arms smuggling. Rami was tried in absentia as he was out of the country at the time of sentencing. He was also sentenced by a military court, despite being a civilian. So when the judge threw out his defence that he was a journalist investigating a story, he didn't feel that justice had been served all that well.

Neither did Reporters Without Borders, which have called for the withdrawal of all proceedings against Aysha and have described his arrest as “unacceptable” and stated that “it is crucial that the Lebanese judicial authorities distinguish between journalistic investigation and illicit trafficking.” Aysha runs TIME magazine's Lebanese bureau and has worked with many major foreign news organizations throughout the Middle East, including VICE.

Rami returned to Beirut yesterday. He went to court and his sentence was reduced from six months to two weeks. The fact that he was already locked up for over two weeks means that he should be released immediately, sources told Lebanon's Daily Star newspaper. He is now taking his case to the supreme court in order to be declared innocent. We caught up with him for a chat.

Rami, chilling out

VICE: Hey Rami, can you tell us how this whole situation started?
Rami: On August 30, I was doing a report about arms dealing and arms trafficking in Lebanon when I was kidnapped by Hezbollah and tortured for three hours. The torture continued after I was handed to Lebanese intelligence, who kept me without water, food, and sleep for three days. A week after my arrest I saw the military judge who issued an arrest warrant against me and I stayed in prison for one month. After that, I was released on bail and since then I have been attending the hearings.

What did you find out that was so important that Hezbollah felt it necessary to kidnap you?
Well, I discovered that due to the corruption of Hezbollah and the overloading of their their warehouses with weapons, they are selling them to the Syrian opposition. They had no other option to stop such a report, because I was so close to providing evidence to the whole world that Hezbollah is corrupt and they are sending their poison to destroy the whole region and instigate the fighting in Syria.

So Hezbollah are fighting with Assad but arming the rebels. Why do you think they are doing this?
As I said before, due to the huge stocks of weapons in their warehouses some of their commanders are selling weapons to make money out of it. It is purely a business thing. I wanted to use my report to show that Hezbollah is not part of the resistance any more, it is a militia causing a lot of chaos in the region. Add to this most of the weapons sold in Lebanon are actually coming from these warehouses, which I was so close to visiting and filming.

What happened to you while you were in captivity?
I was kidnapped in the middle of the street, in front of eyewitnesses and driven to one of Hezbollah’s secret prisons. They tried to make me confess that I was purchasing arms but I insisted I was reporting. My camera which was smashed over my head by Hezbollah members; they even asked me which hand I write with and when I answered left-handed, they started hammering it with a gun. I was badly tortured and badly beaten, I had a broken nose, fingers, ribs, and bruises all over my body. I was bleeding for three hours and screaming from the pain. I even passed out twice during my torture.

They knew that you were a just a journalist doing your job, right?
They knew because I identified myself as a journalist and said that I was doing a report. But they didn’t care. They just kept torturing me. They even told me several times that they promised to make me stop writing till the "end of days."

Rami, chilling out again

After this they handed you to the authorities, what was their behavior like?
Even during my interrogation by the Lebanese intelligence they were more focused on who I met, what reports I was working on—it was more about the nature of my job. Even the judge told me that if I solved my problems with Hezbollah he would release me. This shows how Hezbollah controls the judiciary system and especially the military tribunals in Lebanon. During my interrogation, I urged the judge to extend his investigation and try to arrest those who kidnapped me but he refused.

Do you think that in this instance the authorities are working for Hezbollah?
Sure. It’s not a secret that Hezbollah controls the army, intelligence, and military tribunals and they can fabricate any story they want against you. You can never have a fair trial if your opponent is Hezbollah.

Have any charges been brought against the people involved in the arms smuggling?
For the dealers, no, because it directly involves Hezbollah but for the buyers, yes they are convicted.

So despite being able to provide evidence against Hezbollah nothing has happened to any of the members involved?
Nothing has happened to them and no one punished those who kidnapped and tortured me.

What evidence was presented against you?
I challenge them to show one piece of evidence against me. I challenge them to extend the investigation. What makes you feel sorry for Lebanon is that the criminal becomes a hero and the victim becomes a criminal. I am now convicted with the failed attempt of arms purchasing. My only weapon that night was my camera.

What do you think this says about press freedom in Lebanon?
There is no press freedom in Lebanon and freedom of speech has dropped to a dangerous level. We are turning into a real dictatorship. Journalists are facing their worst moment in the history of Lebanon and freedom of speech has disappeared.

But didn't your sentence get reduced?
There's no difference between two weeks and six months for me because being judged as guilty threatens my career as a journalist. My annual press credentials are needed to work as an official journalist—especially due to the nature of the topics I cover, they are very sensitive. Today, we take my case to the supreme court hoping to get innocence because I believe I was prosecuted for political reasons. I will fight for justice and innocence until the very end.

Thanks Rami. Good luck.

Follow Rami on Twitter: @ramiaysha

Follow Oz on Twitter: @OzKaterji

A different bunny. Photo via

A figure skating feud is brewing in Sweden.

The bad blood between the newer Landskrona Figure Skating and Sport Club (LKSK), and the more competitive GF Sport Figure-Skating has been simmering ever since the LKSK was founded in August. We're talking about a lot more than competitors sniping at each other. According to a story in The Local, an English-language Swedish news site, the feud just got real. Burglaries are happening, death threats are being sent to children, and last Wednesday a pet bunny was ripped to shreds in a late night raid on an organizer's house. 

Unlike the bunny in the header image, which is only sleeping, the pet rabbit was decapitated, disemboweled, and had all its paws severed and laid out in a gruesome, Manson Family-style tableau. The scene left a woman using the alias, "Christine," the pet's owner and figure skating club organizer, terrorized after she went to feed Mr. Floppy (the name I'm giving to the unidentified rabbit) the morning after the crime.

Landskrona, Sweden. Image via

“I see the remains of my rabbit’s body… it’s in my mind all the time,” Christine said to the Local. “It’s cruel and it’s cowardly, but it’s too late.” Police said the bunny killer was a whiz with a knife, judging from the cuts, and was probably a hunter or butcher. They're being forced to speculate, because there's an open investigation going on, and few good clues are forthcoming.

There is one tiny lead: Christine's husband reported seeing a burglar, perhaps the same one, the previous night, fleeing their garage on a bike. The person of interest wore a hat and a jacket with the letter T on the back. 

Image via

Christine had a hand in organizing LKSK, specifically as an antidote to GF's monopoly on figure skating education. Over the past few months, however, what could have been a spirited competition between two organizations with differing principles quickly turned bitter. For instance, LKSK provided loaner equipment to youngsters, contravening a longstanding GF policy. GF responded by allegedly stealing the loaner equipment from Christine's car. She's certain GF-ers were the culprits because they disregarded her laptop during their burglary.

But that doesn't make GF the bad guys. It was supposedly LKSK thugs who upped the ante next by sending a letter to the GF's treasurer Pauline Kronvall in which they ordered her to leave the GF board, or her children would be murdered.

Between the initial threatening letter and the bunny decapitation, there were more incidents. A fourteen-year-old figure skater was threatened by another. Kronvall received two more threatening letters. There were fruitless police investigations. Both sides became paranoid, with Kronvall saying "I started looking over my shoulder when walking alone in the ice hall," and Christine withholding her identity from the press and saying "I cannot live my life being afraid. You can’t watch your kids or your house all the time, and you can’t just lock the doors and stay inside all your life."

Figure skating is notorious for fomenting personal rivalries, some of which have spawned aggravated assault, a crime with a higher rate of incidence in Sweden than in other developed countries. This tense rivalry might plausibly lead to something truly tragic. Sweden may be a socialist fantasyland full of beautiful people, but it's also the world's leader in thinking up new kinds of horrifying violence. 

@mikeleepearl

Thumbnail image via

Early last week, owner of a cursed vagina and mother of Gwyneth Paltrow, Blythe Danner, said that she felt criticism of her daughter was unfair and fueled by jealousy. Speaking to something called Naughty But Nice Rob, Blythe said, "I feel she's just extraordinarily accomplished in every area and people don't like that, some people don't like that, people who are bored and sit on their asses all day and just tap away. I mean I don't read any of it, I just find it so disgusting."

My gut feeling was that Blythe's words were bullshit, and any animosity toward Gwyneth is justified. But I couldn't think of any specific reasons that I disliked her.

As Einstein or Shakespeare or someone once said, "don't judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes." So, in order to better understand Gwyneth and whether or not my feelings of pure hatred toward her were warranted or not, I decided to spend a day walking in hers. Not literally, obviously. A pair of her shoes probably costs more than I will spend on clothing over the course of my entire life.

Luckily, Gwyneth recently launched something called the Goop City Guides app. Goop, for the unfamiliar, is a lifestyle brand Gwyneth made, seemingly with the intention of rubbing her own charmed existence into the face of anyone who signed up for her weekly mailing lists in the hopes that it would be ridiculous enough to be funny. It never is.

The most recent edition to the Goop empire is the app, which lists all of Gwyn's favorite spots in Los Angeles, London, and New York. As I'm currently in Los Angeles, I decided to see what she'd recommended here.

The LA section of the app has an introductory video, narrated by Gwyneth, welcoming you to Los Angeles, a place she refers to as, "the city of my birth, the city I always return to and will forever hold a special place in my heart." As she says this, we see dreamy, sun-bleached shots of the palm trees, florists and markets that populate Gwyneth's Los Angeles, and none of the homeless people, garbage, and wall-poops that populate mine and everybody else's.

The app is divided into different neighborhoods—or as Goop calls them, "hoods." I decided to start my day in Silver Lake, because that's the area Goop said was the "coolest."

First stop was a store called Yolk. A place which describes itself as a "free range design" store, which, after thinking about it for a solid 10 minutes, I can confidently say means nothing.

Gwyneth recommended it as it's where she likes to pick up her "adorable accessories and gifts for kids." 

It sold lots of stuff like you see in the above picture. Toys that appear like they were made to be photographed for a Regina Spektor album cover. 

The kind of toys that are purchased by people who are more invested in how their house looks than how their kids feel. Old time-y stuff like wooden blocks and those wheeled animals that you pull along on a string. The purchase of which is, really, a very mild, very twee form of child abuse. As if literally endagering their lives and giving them names stupid enough to guarantee they spent the first few years on this planet as little more than Leno punchlines wasn't enough, they're having to play with this garbage. 

In the app, Gwyneth, who is the multimillionaire star of Disney's Iron Man series, also says she's a fan of the "toy store experience the way it was in the good old days before super stores and chains." Can someone start a Kickstarter to buy her kids a PS4 or something? Poor guys.

There was also a part of the store aimed at adults that sold partially-practical, entirely-whimsical stuff. Mostly products that were one thing, but made in the shape of another thing. Like coasters in the shape of states ($36), necklaces in the shape of dogs ($140), and tiny boxes in the shape of butterflies ($16). Everything seemed to be made by brands that write their names all in lower case.

Next I headed to a coffee shop called Intelligentsia that the app recommends.

Do you know what "intelligentsia" means? According to Merriam-Webster, it's "a group of intelligent and well-educated people who guide or try to guide the political, artistic, or social development of their society." Which means that whoever owns this place must have been looking at their list of potential name ideas, googled "intelligentsia," saw what it meant, and thought, perfect!

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Anyway, this is how long the line was for a coffee. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I left.

As I was walking away, a man stopped me on the street to completely unironically ask me to sign a petition aimed at "stopping the gentrification of the neighborhood."

Needing a caffeine fix, I decided to hit up a restaurant across the street called Forage.

What makes Forage special is that customers are able to bring in their own homegrown vegetables for use in the restaurant's dishes. According to the list of "foragers" written on a blackboard behind the counter, that day's food had been provided by people with names like Rupert, Ethel, and Una.

The decor was exactly how you'd imagine somewhere Gwyneth eats to be decored: bare concrete floors, (literal) old school chairs and superfluous arrangements of miniature pumpkins.

I bought a coffee and a cookie. The cookie tasted kinda sawdust-y. Which is how I imagine most sweet treats that Gwyneth consumes to taste. 

Next door was a Goop-recommended music store called Vacation. I don't even need to tell you this, as you've already guessed: It only sold vinyl. 

Fascinating Gwyneth Paltrow music-related fact: She once wrote a list of her "summer jams" for Jay-Z's lifestyle website (remember that?) where she named "Don't Like" by Chief Keef as one of her favorites. She wrote,“I’m waiting for a clean version to be released. Until then I’ll just play it in my car.” Not sure if you're familiar with the song, but it contains the word "nigga" 24 times. A fact which, if you're anything like me, will force you to think of Gwyneth merrily dropping the N-word 24 times while cruising around the city in her car. 

Next I headed down the street to Mohawk General Store. Which, disappointingly, turned out to not be a general store at all. It's actually a high-end clothing store with a kooky name. 

I'd been hoping to buy candy or something, but inside the store I found a vintage film playing on a vintage TV on a vintage shelf surrounded by fake vintage scarves that cost $200. 

The store, like all spaces Gwyneth frequents, smelled like the kind of scented candles rich people buy. Quince berries, cade, vermeil, and other things that may or may not actually exist/have scents. Being allergic to scented candles, the constant deluge of posh smells was starting to give me a headache. As I was reaching for an ibuprofen, I thought to myself WWGD? And checked the Goop app's "health" section. 

Amongst the recommendations for weed dispensaries (Gwyneth!), "gentle colonics," and holistic dentists (ouch), was a place that specializes in "mixing Easter and Western healing for holistic health." I gave them a call. A receptionist told me that, rather than using medication, they prefer to look at people's histories and lifestyles to figure out root causes but, if I wanted to come in for a $400 consultation, they could advise on how best to move forward. I hung up the phone and took an ibuprofen. 

Next, I headed to West Hollywood, home of Tweak, a store that bills itself as "the original giftery." Which, presumably, means it's been there for at least a thousand years. 

It gave a fascinating insight into the kind of things I'd be getting as gifts if I was friends with Gwyneth: More un-fun toys and wacky books with names like Haikus For Jews.

They also sold novelty mugs that, instead of saying traditional, funny things like, "My job is top secret: I don't even know what I'm doing myself!" or "future Mrs Brad Pitt" or whatever, said stuff like "just between him & me, or you & her, or her & me, or us & them." The kinds of things that people who think they're above humor pretend to find funny.

Looking at them forced me to imagine Gwyneth gripping one and chuckling to herself. 

Next, I attempted to visit a store called Feal Mor, which, according to its website sells, "A curated collection of French and Japanese Menswear, Vintage Military, Housewares, and more." Goop either has the address wrong, or it no longer exists, as I was unable to find it. Which is a shame as I'm currently in the market for some vintage Japanese military housewares. 

So, instead, I went to a store that sells "casual clothes with indie roots" called American Rag. Don't let the name fool you, the goods on sale are neither "American" nor "rags." A more accurate name for the shop would be "$500 Jeans That Were Manufactured in Asia." I moved on.

I headed to a West Hollywood stationary store called Jonathan Wright. All you need to know about this place is that they call themselves a "shoppe," and pride themselves on their "whimsy" and "civility."

And also that they sell greetings cards so disgustingly tasteful that it's genuinely a little shocking.

Next, I went over to Venice, which Goop likes because of its "old school beach vibe."

I went to a coffee-and-snack place called GTA. I was in the mood for something sweet, so I tried to order a mocha. "I can't really do that. I'm afraid," the barrista told me. 

"How about an iced latte?" I asked. He then offered me an Italian word I didn't quite understand. I asked him to repeat it, and it was something I'd never heard of. "Carbanzo" or "cortina" or something. 

I panicked and ended up ordering a his second recommendation: a matcha latte. Like the cookie I'd had earlier, it tasted of sawdust.

And that pretty much ate up a whole day. I finished my Goopventure by checking into one of the hotels the app said I might like, a place in Hollywood called Andaz. It was fairly unremarkable. Though there was no check-in desk, just beautiful, plainclothes staff members milling around the lobby holding iPads. Which was pretty annoying. 

There was a silhouetted bird motif running throughout the building. Presumably whoever decorated it had never seen this Portlandia sketch. 

At this point, it hit me that of all the things that Gwyneth recommended, almost all of them involved buying something expensive and non-essential. Which made me feel a little sad for her. 

I awoke the next morning to see this. An inspirational quote printed on my hotel room window, which was in the process of becoming unreadable due to people picking at it. Which, if you think about it, is kind of a perfect visual metaphor for Gwyneth and everything she stands for. 

@JLCT

Originally from Berkshire, England, Jake Dypka is an award-winning director and photographer. Despite being honored at Cannes, among other industry competitions, he stil maintains that he's some kind of indolent slob. While his photos do depict scenes of leisure—days at the beach, casino vacations, wintery countryside escapes—it's clear that he's not resting on his laurels.

"I feel like I must be one of the laziest photographers in the world—I never really go out of my way to find a certain image. I photograph the life around me, mostly so I can remember my days rather than to show off any skill I may or may not have. In that sense I would probably call myself a documentary photographer, but I am just starting out."

For a lazy man, he's made a blinding start.

See more of Jake's work here.

Bruce on tour in 1989 with Nirvana, Mudhoney, and TAD's "Heavier Than Heaven" tour

You may not know who Bruce Pavitt is, but you know all about what the indie label he pioneered in the 90s, Sub Pop Records. Sub Pop didn’t birth "grunge"—the media did. Bands like Mudhoney, Soundgarden, Nirvana (duh), and the other heavy hitters on Sub Pop’s roster just made the music.

These days, Bruce has retired from running the label full time, but he recently released a photo book with Bazillion Points called Experiencing Nirvana: Grunge in Europe 1989. The book follows Nirvana, Tad, and Mudhoney through their first European tour, and if you’ve been keeping up with VICE you probably saw the exclusive photos we published a few months back. Nearly three decades later, grunge has become a cultural phenomenon and bounced by into a retro-trend for younger musicians. Reduce, reuse, recycle.

So why put this book out now? I called up Bruce because he’s extremely cool and I wanted to talk about the 90s, the label, and why this book needed to get out into the world.

VICE: Hi Bruce. So first off, why do this book?
Bruce Pavitt: Essentially, the Seattle scene in the late 80s was a revolutionary time. The level of emotional intensity that those bands was expressing was incredible. I thought it was time to share some of those memories.

What did you think of The Oral History of Grunge?
Honestly, I didn’t read it.

Really? I mean, I don't see why you would have to as you were kind of... there.
Yep. I actually took a very long time off from thinking about the scene, after Kurt's passing. It was just last year when I started revisiting those times.

What made you come back to it last year?
I was going through the photos with a good friend of mine, Dan Burke, and we realized there was a story. From there, it just came together. I believe the story as laid out is quite epic, much more than just a collection of photos.

We can't deny the power of Kurt. Straight up. How do you feel seeing the relationship that you had? What do you think of all the biographies, re-issues, documentaries…
Kurt and I were friends. The crew of losers from Seattle that took on the world, on their own terms, and rocked it, were all friends. It was an extended family, a tribe, a community. We came out of the middle of nowhere and changed the face of popular music. Kurt's talent just exploded exponentially. I don't think any of the books out there adequately capture the camaraderie, the sincerity, or the innocence of the pre-fame Nirvana years.

And you were attempting to do so with this book?
Yes. The book shows a world of small clubs, small vans, intimate in-stores, chatting with fans, hanging with their crew. It was a moment when the talent came together in a powerful way, but before everything got put under a microscope.

I’m a musician, and I’ve done punk tours. That’s how you start—broke as fuck, but no one is relying on you yet. It’s so free. You can't eat, but at least that's your problem.
Fuck yeah. Imagine waking up as the world's most famous rock star. End of life as you know it.

How did Kurt deal with fame?
Kurt was very sensitive, even though he raged on stage. Most commercial metal bands were very yang, as they say. Perhaps you remember rocker T-shirts with slogans like “AIDS: Kills Fags Dead”? Kurt did not relate to that sentiment. Of course, the more popular he became, the more mainstream his crowd became. I think Nirvana helped shift the vibe in rock culture. You should check out the Rocket interview at the end of the book where he talks about being into "cutie" bands like Beat Happening, Pixies, Shonen Knife, and the Vaselines. Not very metal.

I was just assigned to write a short story based on "rape me" for the In Utero anniversary. It was a good assignment.
You’re familiar with the story about two "fans" who raped a girl while playing that song? Kurt tripped hard on that.

No, I haven’t heart that story…
It was a story that went around at the time.

That's horrible. I imagine if someone misunderstood my sentiment that deeply I would feel... responsible? Fucking awful? Pissed off?
Kurt went on the cover of the Advocate after he became popular. He went out of his way too promote the rights of women and gays. That was his interpretation of punk.

Hypothetical, do you think Nirvana would be a band if Kurt was alive? Do you ever think about how things could have gone differently?
Tricky question. I do believe that the relationship between band members was respectful, but strained due to another party I won't mention.

How do you feel about the way Sub Pop has grown? What were your intentions when you started the label?
My intention was to support the local scene, while acknowledging and paying respect to other local scenes (primarily through “The Singles Club”). I've always been more fascinated with the potential chemistry of scenes, almost more so than artists.

What fascinates you about that?
Scenes always involve other creative personalities—visual artists, producers, storeowners, and fans. It all comes together in magical ways. Seattle wouldn't have blown up without Charles Peterson’s photography, for example. Possibly the most brilliant rock photographer of all time. I think Sub Pop has grown in a healthy way. It's managed to stay in biz, and put out some radical recordings in the process. Have you heard Metz?

Dude, I toured the west coast with them in April. I tried to hit on Hayden so hard. It was hilarious and mortifying.
[Laughs] I tried to hit on Hayden too. We have something in common.

If you could go back in time in your career and sign or drop one band, who would it be and why?
One band I regretted not signing in the early nineties was Stereolab. Their album Mars Audiac Quintet is a unique masterpiece from the era. Huge props.

You can check out some unseen photos from Nirvana's 1989 "Heavier Than Heaven" tour right here, and be sure to pick up your own copy of Experiencing Nirvana: Grunge in Europe 1989 through Bazillion Points Publishing.

Photos by Konstantin Chernichkin

Following Sunday's massive rally in Kiev's Independence Square, the pro-EU, anti-Russia protesters were bracing for a police crackdown. At lunchtime on Monday, that looked likely—there were alerts that the cops had surrounded the square and were about to strike.

However, it wasn't immediately as bad as all that. The police didn't stop anyone wandering through their barricades, and volunteers actually positioned themselves in front of the police to block any potential provocateurs who might have been looking to start trouble. Priests in long black robes also stood at the entrances in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

"Today will be decisive," declared a speaker on the stage, as opposition leaders urged those Ukrainians who are unhappy at their government's reluctance to move towards full EU membership to flock to the Maidan (the common name for the square).

The police strike never came, but the authorities did a good job of stressing everybody out. On Monday, three central metro stations—Kheshchatyk, Maidan Nezalezhnosti, and Teatralna—were closed to the public, reportedly because someone had called in a bomb threat. In practice, this meant that people wanting to get to the Maidan had to get off at a stop further down the line. This was the case in the evening and the next morning, but locals were undeterred. "The authorities thought it would stop old grannies like us from getting to the Maidan," said a woman in her 60s, who had come on foot with a friend. "But we came anyway."

A line of police wearing riot gear in Kiev last night.

Tuesday was peaceful. The thermometer had plunged well below zero and protesters were trying to stay warm. In the occupied city hall, a small crowd watched as President Viktor Yanukovych met with his three predecessors— Leonid Kravchuk, Leonid Kuchma and Viktor Yushchenko—to attempt to find a peaceful solution to the crisis.

The EU's foreign policy chief, Catherine Ashton, was also in Kiev, and that morning pro-government thugs—known locally as titushky—had blocked the entrance to the EU delegation's headquarters Still, by the evening, Yanukovych was claiming that Ukraine remained committed to its European path. At that point, no one thought that the authorities would lay a finger on the protesters while Ashton was in town.

But last night, they struck. Riot police launched an onslaught after midnight, trying to break through the barricades on Institutska Street. They were resisted by thousands of protesters, but by using chainsaws to cut down barbed wire the police eventually made it through the barricades into the Maidan. There was a lot of pushing and shoving, but ultimately the police backed out of the confrontation, refusing to draw their batons and retreating sometime near dawn.

"I'm still in Kiev. I was among you on Maidan in the evening," Ashton wrote on the EU website. "The authorities didn't need to act under the coverage of night to engage with the society by using force.” Meanwhile, US Secretary of State John Kerry expressed his "disgust" at the police's attempted disruption of what remains an overwhelmingly peaceful protest.

Demonstrators spraying police with water this morning.

At 9 AM this morning, the police moved on from the Maidan to the nearby city hall, which has been occupied by protesters since December 1. Everyone was terrified that attempts to remove them by force could have tragic consequences, much like recent attempts to shift protesters in Turkey and Thailand. However, the demonstrators defended the building, hosing police down from an upstairs window and sealing the entrance. Eventually, the police—now covered in ice from the hosing—gave up and left. The crowd parted to let their buses leave.

The Ukrainian authorities have said last night's events were aimed at easing traffic congestion in the capital. "No force will ever be used against peaceful demonstrators," said Prime Minister Mykola Azarov this morning in a cabinet meeting. "We are talking about clearing the roads to ensure the capital's regular functioning."

For many, last night's attempts to oust the protesters from the Maidan may signal the beginning rather than the end. According to reports, more people are heading to Kiev from other cities in Ukraine.

The government's tactics remain unpredictable. On Wednesday afternoon, the Ministry of the Interior announced that Kiev's two airports and the city's train station, would be closed. The reason? Someone had called in another bomb threat.

Follow Annabelle on Twitter: @AB_Chapman

New Orleans chef John Besh is the renaissance man of Louisiana. Beyond his impressive list of restaurant’s that includes August, Domenica, La Provence, Borgne, Besh Steak, American Sector, Soda Shop, and Luke, chef Besh manages to find the time to be an award-winning cookbook author, philanthropist, and television personality. He’s also a former Marine—maybe that’s why he’s such a resourceful dude. 

On this episode of VICE Eats, chef Besh heads out to Lake Pontchartrain (a.k.a. “the Ponch”) just outside New Orleans city limits to catch some seafood with local fishing legend, “Deadly” Dudley Vandeborre, the fish whisperer of Louisiana, and Brian Landry, co-owner and chef at Borne. After we hung up our fishing poles, we headed back to La Provence to cook up our catch, where we learned about the former Marine’s favorite childhood dish, trout amandine, a signature Southern recipe that gives off a perfumed scent of fresh almonds. During his time in the Marines, he learned that this same scent is the first sign that you’re under chemical attack. 

Photo of John with the fish by Denny Culbert.

Check out the recipe below, featured in Besh’s new cookbook, Cooking from the Heart.

Trout Amandine

By Chef John Besh

Serves 6

In traditional French cooking, a whole fish would be lightly dredged in flour and cooked in butter. In New Orleans, we prefer the skinless trout filet. Properly browning the butter makes all the difference. Don’t rush it; take your time swirling the butter in the pan so that the milk solids brown and give off the signature, nutty aroma that is heightened once you add the almonds. Add the lemon juice and serve while the sauce is still foamy.

Ingredients

1 cup milk

1 cup flour

1 tsp. basic Creole spices (recipe below)

6 5–7 ounce skinless speckled trout filets

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

8 Tbs. butter

½ cup sliced almonds

Juice of 1 lemon

2 Tbs. minced fresh parsley

Directions

1. Put the milk into a wide dish. Put the flour and Creole Spices into another wide dish and stir to combine. Season the fish fi lets with salt and pepper, dip them into the milk, and dredge in the seasoned flour.

2. Melt 4 tablespoons of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the fi lets and cook on each side until golden brown, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer the fish to a serving platter.

3. Add the remaining 4 tablespoons butter to the same skillet over medium-high heat. Swirl the skillet over the heat so that the butter melts evenly and cook until the butter turns brownish, 5–7 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium-low, add the almonds, and cook, stirring gently, until the nuts are toasty brown, about 3 minutes. Add the lemon juice, parsley, and a dash of salt.

4. Spoon the browned butter and almonds over the fish and serve.

Basic Creole Spices

Makes ½ cup

Chefs Note

Using this spice blend is truly the easiest way to consistently achieve the flavors I grew up with. Once made, the spices will last for six months in an airtight container.

2 Tbs. celery salt

1 Tbs. sweet paprika

1 Tbs. coarse sea salt

1 Tbs. freshly ground black pepper

1 Tbs. garlic powder

1 Tbs. onion powder

2 tsp. cayenne pepper

½ tsp. ground allspice

Mix together the celery salt, paprika, salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne, and allspice in a bowl. Transfer the spices to a clean container with a tight-fitting lid, cover, and store.

Paul Watson sitting with the Bayangol squad (All photos courtesy of Bayangol FC)

Earlier this year I spoke to a couple of English guys who'd moved to the tiny Micronesian island of Pohnpei to coach a soccer team. Despite the fact that 90 percent of Pohnpei's population are obese and have very little interest in soccer—conditions not ideal for coaching a soccer team—Paul Watson and Matthew Conrad managed to shape up their squad and lead them to their first victory: a 7 - 1 trashing of a club from the rival island of Guam.  

Turns out I wasn't the only person to find the tale of the Mighty Ducks of Micronesia inspiring; after the interview was published, a Mongolian Premier League coach asked me to put him in touch with Matt and Paul to see if they wanted to start and coach a team over there. They did, and Paul flew out to Mongolia to get to work recruiting team members and securing sponsorship, then Matt joined him a month or so later. 

Mongolia is another country not exactly renowned for its soccer prowess; 30 percent of the population lives a nomadic lifestyle and its capital city, Ulan Bator, is the coldest on the planet, boasting temperatures as low as minus 40 degrees. Nobody wants to spend 90 minutes wearing shorts running around in that. I caught up with Matt and Paul to see how they're doing.

Paul being presented a shirt by Mongolian officials

VICE: Hey, guys. So I imagine it came as a bit of a shock when the Premier League official first asked you to manage a team over there.
Paul Watson: I wouldn’t say that we were surprised; we were always secretly hoping that another opportunity like this would come up. The manner in which it did come up was delightfully random and reminiscent of the way Pohnpei started, which was when the head of their old FA had coincidentally moved to Chingford and we met up with him.

How's the new team coming along?
I got to Mongolia in mid-October, and since then we've chosen a name—Bayangol FC—and a logo, gotten a kit, and found a sponsor, Frutta Active, which is one of the main soft drinks here. Most importantly, we've chosen a squad of players. The deal with the sponsor was linked to a TV channel, NTV, which is making a reality TV show called Dream Team about the building of the team. The players were selected by holding two open tryouts in the capital city of Ulan Bator. So far we have chosen 20 people, but more may be added soon.
Matthew Conrad: Paul has done a lot of amazing groundwork getting a preliminary squad together. It hasn’t been easy, as the standard start-up problems such as funding and sponsorship take up a lot of time. Plus, it's winter, and Mongolia during winter is no joke.

Paul holding a Bayangol FC shirt

Yeah, I've heard the temperate in Ulan Bator can be as low as minus 40 degrees.
Paul: It's actually been surprisingly mild so far, but it can be hard to deal with. Until late March or early April, we’ll be training indoors, using a futsal gym. But the fact that there aren't any covered 11-a-side soccer facilities in Mongolia is a vast problem and one of the key reasons why the national team struggles despite its clear talent. They are at a big disadvantage over other Asian sides, as there are several months of the year that soccer can’t be played, only futsal, which is more or less a different sport. It’s a variant of soccer that is played indoors on a smaller field. I was at a meeting two days ago about a proposal to build an out-of-town covered facility, which would be a great step forward.

What would you say are the other main challenges?
Matt: If we pull this off it’ll be a miracle. In Pohnpei, at least people spoke English.
Paul: It’s certainly problematic that people don’t speak English; I’ve been somewhat surprised by how few do. Among the players, there is one fluent English speaker, who went to school in the US. Coaching via a translator is an interesting challenge when trying to get across tactics; you really have to make sure your translator gets it before anyone else can. Finance has also been tough and remains an issue. The idea is to set up Mongolia’s first proper professional team, but making a change like that in a sport that remains semi-pro is tough. We are working on a shoestring budget at present, but have now attracted one big sponsor.

Are there many cultural obstacles? I know there were a lot when you were coaching the team in Pohnpei.
Not in the way there was in Pohnpei. The players have been very responsive and we have a local who acts as a go-between and can explain things. I was told to shave more often and dress better because that can be quite a big deal here with regard to being seen as an authority figure. It’s a bit different to the flip-flops and shorts in Pohnpei.

Yeah, how does it all compare to your Micronesian experience?
This project is a big leap forward for us, in terms of professionalism. The whole point of it is to demonstrate the way a professional team runs in the UK. I want to implement structured training and develop players in a way that allows them to get opportunities in the game all over the globe and also to improve the national team’s fortunes. I want to bring in more sport science, which is rarely used here, and also bring in video analyses, strength and conditioning, and a focus on training with the ball. These are all established concepts in Europe, but not here.

Are many people actually into soccer over there?
Yeah, soccer is massive. In fact, it's become the main sport that people watch here. The English Premier League is everywhere, and there are fan clubs with thousands of members for Manchester United, Liverpool, Real Madrid, Chelsea, etc. In fact, I’m off to a fan club event tomorrow night, which will be fun. The problem is that soccer at a professional level is seen as something foreign that's watched but can’t be imitated by Mongolians. That shouldn’t be the case at all; Mongolia has some extremely talented players and kids who are very gifted athletically. They should believe that they can reach the highest level. This country needs some home-grown soccer role models, and Bayangol FC intends to provide them.

Paul with a Bayangol member who lived in the Gobi Desert before joining the team

Do you envision ever having any of Mongolia's nomadic citizens on your team?
I don’t think that’s likely. The nomadic tradition is disappearing and those who live that way have very little time for soccer. One of our players did live in the Gobi Desert before he joined us, though.

How well do you think coaching in Pohnpei has prepared you for coaching in Mongolia?
So far, it's been a very good grounding. Things here can be quite confusing and plans can change quite quickly, which reminds me of Pohnpei. But, as I said, this is a step up—and the work and studying that I put in during the three years since Pohnpei will help. I've also been lucky enough to have the support of some fantastic coaches in the British coaching community. A coach called Hugo Langton, who I met after Pohnpei, is especially supportive. He works at Bromley FC, which is on the up and up, and he's gone out of his way to make sure I’m prepared. As soon as I heard about the job, he said he’d do whatever he could to make sure I was ready for the challenge. I know I can call on him if I ever need ideas.

Cool. Thanks guys, and good luck!

A film about Paul and Matt's experiences called The Soccermen will be released next year, and Paul has a book out about the pair's time in Micronesia titled Up Pohnpei, which you can buy here.

Singer-songwriter and novelist Ben Arthur's career has focused on the hazy intersection between literature and music. His upcoming album, Call and Response, is a collection of "answer songs," each responding to the work of other writers, including songs like the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” and Bruce Springsteen's "Atlantic City." One of the standout tracks on Call and Response is an answer to “Forked River Roadside Shrine, South Jersey,” a Joyce Carol Oates story that appeared in our most recent fiction issue, which you can still read on the iPad edtion of VICE magazine. It's a darkly beautiful story about a dead boy watching his friends and family mourn at the roadside shrine he haunts—perfect fodder for a haunting folk song. Listen to it below:

Ben Arthur’s If You Look for My Heart is available as an album, a book, and an integrated eBook. His upcoming album, Call and Response, will be out this summer. You can see more of his work at BenArthur.com and SongCraftPresents.com.

Death is a scary thought for most of us. Of course, there are those who believe in an afterlife. God bless them and all that. They ignore the science or use it to promote their creative designs, saying the 21 grams lost in death is our soul escaping and not our bloated egos letting go. Well, if our soul really is trying to escape, then director Pedro Pires filmed a powerful encounter with one in his short film Danse Macabre. 

From suicide to the piping-hot demise of a body in a crematorium, we see the dance of death. However, this ballet reimagines the choreography without living hands, taking its cues from our bodies' natural idiosyncrasies. Although this is a dance film (see the title), the choreographer and main actress Anne Bruce Falconer only presents the most minimal of movements: her organs, blood, and last meal shifting in her stomach cause her to delicately spin on a noose, the muscle spasms following death scream out for one last encore of a slow prostrate bow, and a tear falls gently down her cheek. The power of her performance is unmistakable in her body’s arch, gestures, and torque. She, pun intended, makes the film alive. 

The short is set to Maria Callas’s marvelous “Diva Casta” aria, juxtaposed against the cold detachment of autopsy processions. We see embalming fluid, water, blood, the protagonist’s heart and body “dance” their ways into their respective spaces. The images are haunting, but they should be, as Pedro used a real heart and a real dead body in the crematation scene. In life, we think of our bodies and our souls as precious pieces, but who really cares what’s done with them when we’re dead. We only think about certain things and glaze over the bad bits. Those bad bits are the real bits too, we all can’t romanticize ourselves or else we’d suck pretty badly. Not to sound annoying, but we’re only on this God-forsaken planet for a short time and we can’t spend every minute wondering if our body is going to get all banged up on the way to the morgue or what we should’ve said in our blah blah blah.  

So yeah, this film is beautiful and interesting and well-made. To learn more about it, watch the great interview with the director below, which explains how and why he made the film. 

Pedro Pires directed Danse Macabre in 2009. It won him a bunch of awards including Best Canadian Short Film from Toronto International Film Festival and a Genie (the Canadian Oscar). The film played all over the world and led to him create his second festival favorite short film Hope in 2011. A few months ago saw the release of his first feature film Triptych at TIFF, which was co-directed with Robert Lepage. Robert actually conceived Danse Macabre for Pedro to direct and is himself one of the most renowned stage directors and multimedia artists in the Canadian avant garde today. The film was produced by PHI Films, which is one of the strongest and weirdest production companies out there championing artist-driven work. They also produced the fantastic short film Next Floor  by Denis Villeneuve. Check back next week for another short film!

Jeffrey Bowers is a tall mustached guy from Ohio who's seen too many weird movies. He currently lives in Brooklyn, working as an art and film curator. He is a programmer at the Hamptons International Film Festival and screens for the Tribeca Film Festival. He also self-publishes a super fancy mixed-media art serial called PRISM index.

@PRISMindex

Patrick Keiller. Photo by Julie Norris

The Tory-led coalition government's dismantling of Britain's public services isn't anything new. During the last stint of socially destructive Conservative rule, architecture lecturer, artist, and cinematographer Patrick Keiller made two seminal films—London (1994) and Robinson in Space (1997)—that pointed out the negative impact that government can have on the British landscape.

Those two movies remain beautiful documents of an important time in UK history, characterized by lingering shots of seemingly mundane scenes that we might otherwise take for granted, like jets flying low over rows of semi-detached suburban houses and McDonald's courtyards with cars swinging around the drive-thrus. Keiller takes these images and makes them beautiful. He went on to make two other films—The Dilapidated Dwelling (2000) and Robinson in Ruins (2010)—about the country’s housing problem and the future of its countryside, respectively.

As Britain's current housing crisis continues, all four films have taken on an even greater poignancy, which is convenient, because Keiller has just released a new book—A View from the Train—that perfectly summarizes his thoughts on the topic. And considering he seems to understand better than anyone how our country's architectural landscape is slowly and irreversibly falling to shit, I thought I should get in touch for a chat.

The Robinson in Ruins trailer.

VICE: What did you want to achieve by making your last four films?
Patrick Keiller: The three Robinson films [London, Robinson in Space, and Robinson in Ruins] are all attempts to address a "problem" by exploring a landscape with a cine-camera. In Robinson in Space, for example, an initial assumption that the UK’s social and economic ills are the result of it being a backward, flawed capitalism gradually gave way to the realization that, on the contrary, these problems are the result of the economy’s successful operation in the interests of the people who own it.

In Robinson in Ruins, on the other hand, the "problem" is capitalism itself, prompted by Fredric Jameson writing, famously, "It seems to be easier for us today to imagine the thoroughgoing deterioration of the earth and of nature than the breakdown of late capitalism; perhaps that is due to some weakness in our imaginations." The film arrived at its final destination in autumn, 2008 during the immediate fallout from the collapse of Lehman Brothers.

Montevetro, Battersea, London, 1999. From The Dilapidated Dwelling (2000)

London includes several shots of the Elephant and Castle neighborhood, which is in the news again because the Heygate Estate public housing project is in the process of being torn down. How do you feel about that?
The Elephant is unusual in that it’s the end of an underground line but very near the center of the city, so there are always a lot of people at the bus stops, as you see in the film. It was the hub of the South London tram network. I was intrigued that the shopping center had never been very successful commercially.

The pictures of the Elephant in London are mostly of the shopping center and some nearby 1960s single-story GLC prefabs that were about to be cleared away when we were photographing the film. An elderly couple had lived in one of them since 1965. As the film relates, "After 27 years in the house, where they had brought up all their children, they were reluctant to leave and had been offered nothing with comparable amenities; but as their neighbors disappeared one by one, the house was increasingly vulnerable and they no longer felt able to leave it for more than a couple of days."

A section of the Heygate Estate in Elephant and Castle. Photo via

I was an architecture student when Heygate was being built. My contemporaries and I thought it fairly bleak, dominated by the priorities of a big building firm rather than those of its architects. But, by most accounts, it turned out much better than we’d anticipated. More recently, however, I can imagine that the various pressures it faced—increased [economic] inequality, and hence poverty in London; a rapid turnover of residents; overstretched housing management and so on—had taken their toll. In a context in which public-sector housing and its architecture are continually demonized, Heygate offered an ideal opportunity to displace poor people from a potentially very valuable redevelopment site.

The clearance is carried out in the name of "regeneration," but the motive seems fairly transparent. The buildings are far from irredeemable, and they’re not even paid for—public-sector housing was built with 60-year loans. But instead the site has been handed over to [property developers] Lend Lease, who are no doubt very capable of undertaking a transformation in keeping with neoliberal assumptions. It’s a tragedy in three acts.

McDonald's drive-thru, Old Kent Road. From London (1992), courtesy of the BFI

Are there any housing initiatives outside of the UK whose basic model you think we should follow?
I'm interested in models of housing that aren't exclusively residential and aren't based on the individual nuclear family. In the UK now and recently, that seems to mean living on your own—a lot of present-day housing demand is the result of couples splitting up. Communications technology probably makes living on your own less isolating than it might otherwise be, but it doesn't strike me as very attractive. Living as an independent member of a larger unit might be more engaging.

There are various models one might imagine adapting, including the university college or campus; the monastery; the squatted street—Frestonia, for example; the block of serviced flats, as at Lawn Road in Hampstead; and some kinds of sheltered accommodation for elderly people. There are already quite a few examples of co-housing, some purpose-built and some in large houses, the latter often in the country. There was once something called Le Familistère de Guise in France—a large building that, in 1880, housed 1,170 people and was equipped with co-educational schools, a theatre, and a park. According to Ruth Eaton’s book Ideal Cities, it was established in 1858, was "economically viable and socially progressive" and survived for over a century.

Blackpool promenade, 1995. From Robinson in Space (1997), courtesy of the BFI

Among housing architecture, I very much admire the buildings of Hans Scharoun, of which there are many examples in Berlin. In the UK, you might have a look at Walter Segal’s self-build developments in Lewisham and Ralph Erskine’s Byker estate in Newcastle.

What do you make of the fact that a lot of central London has been sold off to investors, leaving many buildings empty at a time when lots of people don’t have anywhere to live?
We’re living with an economic reality in which profits aren’t so much derived from creating wealth as by transferring it, often from the poor to the rich. In former times, wealth creation meant investing in production and infrastructure, but now we encounter these extraordinary examples of asset-price inflation. In London, that means placing capital in property, much of it residential. As you say, many of these owners find it easier to leave their buildings empty, especially if they’re based elsewhere, which they often are. I wouldn’t have thought it was very difficult to legislate against this kind of thing, but any such discussion seems to be off the political agenda, just as hardly anyone ever mentions rent control.

Daewoo cars at Portbury Dock, near Bristol, 1995. From Robinson in Space (1997), courtesy of the BFI

Your book is called The View from the Train, presumably because we spend so much of our lives in transit. How do you think this has affected our understanding of the home—or "the dwelling"?
There’s a lot of cultural and critical attention devoted to the experience of mobility and displacement. But often the emphasis is on their negative aspects, and we still tend to fall back on assumptions about dwelling derived from a more settled, agricultural past. This kind of place-centred dwelling is very problematic, as we see all the time in the Middle East, the UK, and elsewhere. But that doesn’t mean that we can dispense with claims on territory, or with territory’s claims on us. That’s what tax avoiders do—the super-rich think they’re above the level of the nation-state. But equally, the idea of ancestral rights to settlement is just not practical. In the UK, hardly anyone isn’t "displaced" to some extent.

In England, this accompanied private ownership of land and property. Before land enclosure, a process that dates from the 16th century or earlier, ordinary people had rights to land. Land was enclosed by a rising class of gentry, often unlawfully, in a process that very much resembles what is happening today with, for example, the privatization of Royal Mail. I think it’s time to begin a discussion of how to socialize the value of land, and to return formerly public assets to public ownership.

How do you see the Crossrail service affecting London?
It’s interesting to see how successfully these big infrastructure projects—Crossrail, the Jubilee Line extension and the Olympics—can be accomplished when there’s a political will behind them. Just think what could be achieved with energy efficiency, or "rebalancing" the economy away from financial services towards manufacturing, if there was a similar commitment. Crossrail is driven partly by the requirement to improve access to Canary Wharf from the west, especially from Heathrow, for those in the financial sector, hence the political will. I’m looking forward to its completion rather as I used to look forward to a new toy. I don’t really know what its wider impact will be, apart from increasing house prices even more and making it possible for more people to commute from far away, which seems a terrible waste of time.

House with scaffolding and plywood, Oxford, 2008. From Robinson in Ruins (2010), courtesy of Patrick Keiller

What do you think of London mayor Boris Johnson—as a politician or otherwise?
Judging by his recent pronouncements, Johnson seems to understand success only in terms of money. He seemed to be suggesting that there’s a finite amount of wealth and a struggle in which the poor are those who lose out because they’re less "intelligent." He represents the interests of those who profit from dealing in assets, rather than investing in production. Larry Elliott pointed out recently that the UK hasn’t produced a single world-class manufacturing firm from scratch since World War Two. Johnson is a typical member of the elite responsible for this failure.

I could only think of one exception to Elliott’s statement: [vacuum cleaner magnate] James Dyson is, I think, much wealthier than Johnson, and certainly much more creative. His manufacturing has enriched a great many people other than himself, both in the UK and abroad. It’s interesting that Dyson is an art-school graduate, whereas Johnson went to Oxford and was a member of a famously destructive club. I think he’s quite a sinister figure.

Government Pipeline and Storage System [GPSS] depot, Islip, Oxfordshire, 2008. From Robinson in Ruins (2010), courtesy of Patrick Keiller

Do you think that the landscape of the UK is worse now, under the present government, than it was under the last Tory government?
The economy is in even worse shape now than it was under the last Tory government, and that’s reflected in aspects of the landscape, especially the urban landscape. After 1997, Labour continued Thatcher’s strategy of "undisclosed" redistribution, in which the private sector was allowed to prosper in the southeast while the government supported public-sector jobs in other parts of the country, notably the northeast and Wales. The current government is abandoning that without replacing it with anything else, with disastrous consequences.

A lot of your work deals in ruins, but is there anywhere in the UK that you feel still has a great future?
I find Sheffield a very encouraging city, although I wish they weren’t going to knock down Castle Market—it’s one of my favorite buildings. Halifax, Newcastle, Glasgow, and Edinburgh, too. I’m attracted to cities in which there are a lot of hills.

Patrick Keiller’s films London, Robinson in Space and Robinson in Ruins are available on DVD and Blu-ray, released by BFI Video. His collection of essays The View from the Train is published by Verso – pick it up from Amazon here.

Follow Nathalie on Twitter: @NROlah