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Flipping for W.I.G. Here's a novel idea: a smart magazine for women with articles about topics women are interested in--music, art, sports and personal experiences. Enter W.I.G. Started two years ago, W.I.G.--which stands for Women in General--is like Details for women, only more honest, down to earth and, of course, female-friendly. Better yet, Dawn Kish, the creative director and associate publisher of W.I.G., recently moved to Portland. After three years of publishing, W.I.G. is now a quarterly and boasts a circulation of 25,000. Kish promises the next issue will be out in October. The sports coverage--mainly skating, snowboarding and mountain biking--is written by actively involved women, which means you get an honest rundown of what it's like to go screaming down on a hill on either a bike, skateboard or snowboard. The music covered is wide-ranging, from seminal post-punkers the Raincoats to illbient women DJs in New York City. But the best part of W.I.G. is its comprehensive approach; where else can you find one magazine with a book review of Lucille's Car Care, a story about one woman's mother's journey to Antarctica and interviews with women in comics? W.I.G. is visually appealing as well. Reproductions of photographs, paintings and collages by women appear throughout the magazine. W.I.G. costs $3.95 at Rich's Cigar Store, Powell's and other area newsstands. For more information, contact W.I.G. at6310 SE Grant St., Portland, OR 97202, 788-507, WigMag@aol.com. --Alyssa Isenstein |
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Festivities begin Wednesday, Oct. 15, at the poster party's opening bash, 8 to 10 pm at the Hilton Hotel (921 SW 6th Ave.). Poster artists from around the region will display their art, and Spin/Rolling Stone photographer Basil Childers will hang a series of photos. DJs and sitar man Allon Beausoleil will provide sounds, and 23 Skidoo will brighten the room with some fashionable performance art. After three nights of clubs and music, everyone is invited to opening weekend at Portland Meadows Racetrack. Your NXNW wristband or badge will provide free access to a day of thoroughbred racing for free, and the track will open up its terrace section exclusively for NXNW and Willamette Week. Beer, snacks, guest jockeys and, of course, a betting window will all be within reach in the terrace. Maybe you'll even win back what you spent over the weekend. |
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Healing Is Hip With the upcoming release of Brad Pitt's Seven Years in Tibet, Buddhism is sure to be a hot topic this fall. Portlanders have a special chance to get a jump on the conversation bandwagon this weekend: Khenchen Palden Sherab Rinpoche and Khenpo Tsewang Dongyal Rinpoche, known as the Khenpos to their students, make a rare visit to Portland for a Dzogchen teaching and transmission. The teaching, titled "Self-Liberation through Seeing with Naked Awareness," was first given by PadmaSambhava, the founder of Tibetan Buddhism and recognized Buddha of our time. This particular lesson is called a terma, or hidden treasure, concealed by PadmaSambhava for future disciples to discover on their road to enlightenment. Even skeptics may be inspired by men who are described as living examples of love, compassion and joy. The teaching goes from 10 am to 4 pm Saturday and Sunday, Sept. 27 and 28, at the PSU Campus Ministry (633 SW Montgomery St.). The cost is $45 a day. The Khenpos will also administer the Healing Medicine Buddha Empowerment, at 7 pm Monday, Sept. 29, at Montgomery Park (2701 NW Vaughn St.). Call 284-1448 for more information. |
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Money for NOTHING It beckons like a lighthouse from the depressing tundra of "Business Opportunities" and get-rich-quick schemes nestled in the back of alternative weeklies. The photo of a brunette declaring with joy "Safe Sex--Get Paid" can't help but whet the appetite of the imagination. The balloon of anticipation is given a slow leak by the double-edged stab at legitimacy of "as seen on Oprah," but the promise of a potential $1,000-per-week earning power (if you're an 18- to 45-year-old man) patches up that puncture pretty quickly. The ad is posted by the National Research Group, which claims to connect healthy men with sexual study programs through a directory called the Confidential Report. The programs, administered by "medical professionals," pay you to participate in studies, some carried out in private "hotel-like" rooms complete with adult entertainment materials. As a journalist, it's incumbent upon me to expose both exciting new opportunities and potential chicanery so that you, the esteemed reader, may lead a more rewarding life. So I sent in my $16.95. There are indeed myriad ways of getting screwed in this world, and the Confidential Report, unfortunately, puts you on the receiving end of the second oldest. The shoddy, 20-page booklet lists only three local venues for turning a monkey spank into a trip to the bank, and they all happen to be mere sperm-donation centers: ironically sterile institutions where one is expected to masturbate into a cup in a hospital storage room accompanied by nothing saucier than a dog-eared Playboy or Penthouse if you're lucky. The laboratories only pay $30 to $40 a spooge with a ceiling of two "sessions" a week for a period of six months to a year (provided you endure a series of tests including one involving the dreaded urethral swab). Aside from listing several local plasma donation centers (which, unless you're Anne Rice, hardly qualifies as "sex"), the Confidential Report lists two other ways to exploit your biological buying power. You got irritable bowels, four free months and no qualms about swallowing new pharmaceuticals? Health First Medical Group will pay you $250 for your trouble. What about migraines and muscle spasms? Hill Top Research will pay you $250 for one to six months work for being their guinea pig. The only way you'll make a grand a week for "safe sex" is by broadening your definition of sex to include masturbating in a hospital six times a week; taking irritable-bowel and migraine medication every other day for several months; or donating plasma every five hours. It's almost enough to lead one to Amway and abstinence or--stranger still--a real job. --Dale E. Basye |
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