Hey kids! It’s that time again! What time? you ask. Time to have a look at all the free news that’s fit to print! At the wealth of great free reading material at our fingertips on the T!
In this week’s Dig, Joe Keohane makes a good point about the quite possibly nefarious intentions of the T in raising fares not to $1.50, from the current $1.25, but to $1.55. Seems like an odd number for a fare to me, too. Is this a way for the T to pick up a little extra off of those of us who don’t carry nickels? I mean, who carries nickels?
The Phoenix has the menacing Matisyahu on page one and a story inside about “pop fundamentalism”. But I hardly think Madonna and Matisyahu constitute a movement. Sorry, Madge, but a fifty year old with Farrah hair doing yoga in her underwear. It’s just not cutting edge enough anymore. You set the bar too high. And Matty, honey, we’ve gotta do something with those sidelocks! How about some gold highlights?
The Beacon Hill Times had a front page story, about when “unruly behavior takes an ugly turn”. Apparently those Emerson College kids are getting out of hand. But the best thing, by far, about the BHT is Kenneth Hill’s perfectly delightful “Nature in the City” column. His most recent is about springtime birdwatching. He writes:
“Early March awakens expectations of northbound migrants among the birding community. Depending on the weather, we can reasonably hope to discover the first arrivals of spring this week or next. Sometimes, however, the issue gets confused. Birds that have spent the winter here can be mistaken for recently arrived travelers. It’s easy to miss the occasional hermit thrush, song sparrow, catbird, or towhee that keeps a low profile during the colder months.”
He says some robins have been hanging out since November. So it’s not such a big deal when you see one around this time. So don’t freak out and think it’s spring if you do. Hudson’s advice: “Just concentrate on learning grackle, cowbird and redwing.”
In this week’s Bay Windows there is a priceless front page piece on a survivor of the New Bedford Puzzles Massacre. “Impact of Puzzles attack lingers!” the headline screams: “Victims, witness suffering from severe anxiety; DA’s office not helpful.” Well, hmmph.
The story centers on a certain Adam Marczak, who was cruising–YES, CRUISING–Jacob Robida, when the latter went on a hacking, hatcheting and shooting spree at the storied playground of New Bedford’s gay glitterati. Marczak doesn’t SAY he was cruising Robida, but check out how it apparently went down:
“Marczak was enjoying a night out at Puzzles on Feb. 1 when Robida, an 18-year-old high school dropout, showed up around 11:30 p.m. Clad in boots and a trench coat, his hooded sweatshirt shrouding most of his face, Robida immediately caught Marczak’s eye as he moved to a corner near the small dance floor off the main bar area. ‘I made a joke to Rob Perry, saying, “Oh look, a straight guy in the wrong bar,’” Marczak recalled. ‘He’s lost and after he figures out it’s a gay bar he’s gonna leave.’” Oh no!
So let’s recap. “A straight guy in the wrong bar.” That’s every gay guy’s dream date. And at Puzzles, you can bet even Robida was a catch. Marczak’s interest was really piqued when he overheard Robida asking the bartender if Puzzles was, indeed, a gay bar. I guess the lights in the dancefloor had all burnt out, or something. Marczak proceeded to make google eyes at Robida: “I wasn’t trying to stare at him,” said Marczak, “but I kind of, like, peeked at him like to try to get a sense [of] what’s up with this guy.” Peekaboo!
Très, très réservé, Adam. So, the seduction was underway!
“Marczak talked [a friend who would later get a hathet in his forehead] into shooting a game of pool and the pair moved to the pool table at the rear of the bar. As Marczak racked up the balls, Robida slowly made his way to the back of the bar and stopped near a popcorn machine just a few feet away from the pool table, said Marczak, and watched their game. Marczak passed by Robida as circled the table a couple times to line up a shot; two times he considered introducing himself in an attempt to make Robida feel more at ease. ‘Who knows what would have happened [if I had].’” They might have ended up married if those other queens hadn’t butted in!
Marczak was not injured in the ensuing slaughter, and now complains: “Most people think that there’s only three victims because they’re on TV and they actually wound up in the hospital and I thought the same thing. I said, ‘Oh I’m not physically hurt, I’m fine.’ That’s what I thought for the first few days until I realized that everybody was fine and I was like, ‘Oh man, I’m not doing that good.’”
He’s reportedly doing much better now that he’s got his mug on the front page of a newspaper, even if it is Bay Windows.
I’m sure it was traumatic for everyone involved, but it doesn’t change the fact that regardless of how he tries to spin it, Marczak was obviously CRUISING Robida. I don’t care how many beers you’ve had. I don’t care how long it’d been since a new piece of meat had landed on the front steps of Puzzles. Have we no shame, my gay brethren?
It’s only just that Marczak by his own admission “carried a lot of guilt for the first few days.” EARTH TO ADAM: YOU WERE CRUISING A FAT NEO-NAZI FAG-BASHING PSYCHOPATH. GUILT’S THE VERY LEAST YOU COULD FEEL. How about shame? Disgust? Self-reproach? Self-loathing? If victimization is all you can come up with, well, I don’t know what to tell you.
