Man Vs. God Vs. Starwood Hotels: Why I'm Voting "No."

Man Vs. God Memorial Park -- in development plans, this portion would be incorporated into the pillars for the interior for a Wolfgang Puck restaurant.

When I came into the office this morning, there was much to be done. My assistant Marisha was already hard at work typing up the minutes from my meeting with the Esperanto District Retailers' Council (a.k.a. the Konsilantaro Detalisto Esperanto) from yesterday, which is never easy work, since Chairman Weaver still insists on delivering his remarks in Esperanto, and the city won't pay for Marisha to take lessons, so she has to transcribe the meeting phonetically, and then attempt to translate her notes back into English. There was an update from the Metro Council 3rd Ward Porter Weiss Memorial Novelist Laureate Search Task Force, which is nearing a decision after months of deliberation. There were noise complaints from the residental pockets off Stanton Avenue in the Cassock District near the Lakesider again from the recent "screamo" bill headlined by I Promise To See You Die And I Will show. There was indeed much to tackle.

But I could only think of one thing.

It was a remarkable dream I had last night. Marisha is standing over me begging me not to mention this, but it was too powerful not to share.

This is it: in the dream, I was standing here, in my office, and I hear a knock on the door. I open it, and standing there is ghostly apparitions of two of our neighborhood's greatest statesmen, Councilman Spence Whitmarsh and Senator Fletcher O. Casady! They walked in and had a seat. And before I could say anything, they spoke.

Both were accomplished public speakers while they were alive (1938-1971 and 1861-1934, respectively), and they were both true to form in my dream, speaking with great eloquence. The thing they had on their minds was the proposed destruction of beloved hippie art garden Man Vs. God Memorial Park -- a project which Whitmarsh personally greenlit during his tenure as 3rd Ward councilman.

"We built a lot of beautiful art during my tenure, Sherman," said Councilman Whitmarsh. "And you'd vote to destroy it?"

"Verily!" said Senator Casady. "You would vouchsafe to undertake this detestable deed, Mr. Larson? For shame, for shame! Confound it, Council-man, have you no sense of history?"

Then they both looked at me, and repeated over and over Senator Casady's best-known adage: "A man must will himself to righteousness, and right himself to willfullness!" until I awoke.

And I lay there for a moment, and it occured to me: I must follow the example of these principled leaders. I must will myself to righteousness.

That is why you have my pledge that the city will not sell Man Vs. God to any developers, no matter how generous their offers. Because to me, nothing is more beautiful than Soviet scrap submarine parts forged in the furnaces of our neighborhood's great artists in the 1970s, piled high on a beautiful green parcel of land in the middle of a bustling neighborhood, and given life. There is certainly room in our neighborhood for development and for exciting new projects of all kinds, but let's leave a grand old landmark like Man Vs. God out of it.

Which is why I'm voting "no" on selling the property. Senator Casady would have voted "no," Councilman Whitmarsh would have voted "no," and so will I.

Well, actually, Casady might not have thought Man Vs. God was a bit "queer" (in contemporary parlance), but the point remains. Honestly, I think it's pretty weird and hippie too, but there are certain values that rise above mere taste. This is one of them.

Our vanishing '70s sculpture garden heritage.

I'd just like to take a moment to acknowledge some emails I received lately from several members of the Kendall Park Neighborhood Association. This one, from KPNA interim president Dr. Linda F. Snyder, is very representative:

No one who lived through the councilmanship of Spence Whitmarsh can forget what heady times those were for the sculpture garden scene. There were new ones sprouting up everywhere, and the neighborhood was the better for it. Only a few remain today, and even those are threatened by the forces of greed and "social improvement."

For those of you that are too young to recall, Councilman Spencer J. Whitmarsh (left) represented the 3rd Ward from 1968 until his tragic motorcycle death in 1971. He cut quite legendary figure during that "go-go" period, representing the neighborhood through one of the most tumultuous times in Armitage Heights' long history -- the Esperanto Arondismento Tumulto of '69, the '71 Kitchen Riots, and the sedition trial of Dr. Thomas Jefferson Harding, also in 1971. Controversial journalist and writer Kimball F. Burin was appointed to replace Whitmarsh by then-Mayor Freese.

Perhaps Whitmarsh's most visible legacy, though, was his shepherding through of some of the most revolutionary land-usage acts in the neighborhood's history. Hundreds of sculpture gardens exploded onto the scene, in every conceivable nook and cranny of the neighborhood. My assistant Marisha dug up from the Armitage Heights Historic Society a copy of a 1975 book entitled Sculpture Parks Now!: Your Guide to the Armitage Heights Topiary Art Revolution. The appendix is a list of contemporary sculpture gardens and their locations. Consider these mostly now-defunct sites that comprise the list:

• Giant Earth Robot Meditation Plaza (1970)
• New Atlantis (1972)
• Man Vs. God Memorial Park (1969)
• Good Time Charlie's Sculpturetorium (1973)
• Up With Statues! (1972)
• Spencer Whitmarsh Municipal Art Park (1971)
  
• City Sculpture Yard and Come-Down Tent (1969)
• The People's Revolutionary Three-Dimensionalists Guild (1968)
• The East 33rd Street Urban Boreal Plaza (1975)
• Superlove Legacy Gardens East (1973)
• The Stanton Avenue Olympus (1977)
• Preservation Compound (Mk. I, 1973; Mk. II, 1975)
• Pierce County Hebrew Gardens (1969)
• Urban Lightning Field (1975)

With a few notable exceptions, most of them are now gone. In fact, all that remains now are Man Vs. God Memorial Park and Giant Earth Robot Meditation Plaza (Superlove Legacy Gardens East at Stanton Avenue and 56th Street still exists, but the original design has been incorporated into a Chevy's Fresh Mex restaurant).

Man Vs. God Memorial Park, located on a quarter-acre of land at the corner of Schofield Parkway and Gilpin Avenue, is in particular danger. Built around a towering sculpture created by noted late local artist and Church of Satan high priest Hargrove Forsyth in 1969 at the dawn of the golden era of '70s sculpture gardens, the MvGMP represents -- as only rusted metal forms, ivy, concrete, vintage Soviet submarine salvage parts, and park benches welded to steel can -- the epic struggle between man and god.

It's also standing on a prime piece of real estate right on the edge of the now-trendy Little Wilmington district that developers have offered the city an unspecified amount of money to build a proposed W Man Vs. God Luxury Hotel. If the deal goes through, that leaves only Giant Earth Robot Meditation Plaza as the sole reminder of a once-swingin' sculpture garden scene. A shame that would be, too, because Giant Earth Robot is an eyesore that I would much rather see torn down than the relatively charming weirdness of Man Vs. God.

Please continue to write both myself and Mayor Underdahl if you'd like to see our neighborhood's vanishing sculpture garden heritage be preserved. You can also direct correspondence to the Armitage Heights Historic Preservation Council, the Man Vs. God Defense Fund, or to Dr. Synder at the Kendall Park Neighborhood Association.

For more reading on this fascinating topic, I recommend Ecce Hoedown: The Armitage Heights Sculpture Explosion, by Frank Carney-Nentzl, Half-Welded to a Dream, by Groff Schwenson, or Cast in Pain: An Uncensored Look at the Armitage Heights Sculpture Garden Wars, by Dr. Connoly Boatman.

ON THE SCENE! With my assistant Marisha: break-up edition.

Hi everyone, Marisha here.

I've been really busy trying to get my master's thesis together for my defense next semester, so I haven't been out to many shows lately. Sherman has been cutting articles out of Rolling Stone and Alternative Press about the neighborhood scene, though, and he says there's lots of momentum we need to capitalize on. That's probably true, but I was also thinking this might be a good time to think about some of the notable bands around town that have called it quits in the last year. I'll write more later about some going-on around town, but some my favorite groups have split recently, and I'd like to devote some space to remembering them.


Dance punk duo Spelling and Usage, who the Free Press once described as making "dance music so post-ironic it actually seems to twist back around into irony, stops for a cigarette, and then ducks back out again into post-irony," broke up in March after the release of their first album, this year's We Love Electroclash. In a press release, they attributed their break-up to being "bored." Keyboardist Aaron Kaplansky will still be spinning Thursday nights at the Lakesider. Keyboardist Sean Hall will continue to work at the Armitage Heights Co-Op on Stanton Avenue.


Beloved pop foursome Christmas Island didn't break up, per se, but have decided to relocate from here to Brooklyn, New York pending their signing to the legendary Kill Rock Stars record label. So we'll miss them -- they were certainly on their way to becoming big stars around here. Sherman unsuccessfully attempted to convince Mayor Underdahl to donate one of a number of old warehouses in the Cassock District to the band to use for tax-free rehearsal and living space in hopes of retaining them as Armitage Heights residents, arguing that their presence here was a "non-negotiable economic and cultural necessity." Of course, this plan didn't materialize, and Christmas Island is off to the east coast to strike it big. So good luck in Brooklyn, guys!


The Family of Birds, led by the singer known only as "Marianne" (above), charmed audiences with such lo-fi, shambling acoustic odes to nature, love and magic as "O Mr. Wind, Why Do You Blow So Very Hard?" and "All Of The Trees In The Woods," and were infamous for their gentle mid-show crying sessions. They recently announced, unfortunately, that they are too shy to continue performing live. The loss to our local musical scene is incalculable.

Other notable break-ups this year included The New System, This Island Earth, Camp Crook, The Census Bureau, He's A Bodybuilder Too!, The Tzimmes, State Pension, The Artinian Module ("indefinite hiatus" owing to lead guitarist Erik Shriner's acceptance to Brigham Young University), The Skin Game, Mobido Diakité, Liquid Candy and the Going Steadies, The Capris, "yacht rock" revivalists The Millionaire Billionaires, Cross Country Meet (not to be confused with the similarly-named Armitage Heights-based indie four-piece Cross Country, who just opened for the October Revolutionists on their last West Coast tour), Servant in Heaven, Toyo Carp, Wihinapa emo heart-throbs Small Things Cast Large Shadows, The Astronomiques, Mirror Dinghy, The Amritsar Massacre, Silver March, The Franklin W. Dixons, The Handsome Xenologists, Commons Club, Wolf Siege, Third Swamp Reserve, and ye-ye-core faves Murder A La Mod. They will all be missed.

"Poik de coy in de loit."

You can "poik" your "coy" in " this'n ga-royge" at Armitage and 38th Street.

Sound familiar? I was travelling back from a conference in Seattle this week, and I got into a conversation with a fellow I was sitting next to at the Sea-Tac airport. He was flying to Houston, but his mother had apparently grown up in Kendall Park, and he recognized me as a "Peshie" right away because of my accent, which got me to thinking about the Mishipeshu accent.

I grew up in Wihinapa, as did both of my parents, so they both had strong Peshie accents, as did my grandparents. I still remember when Grandpa Henry taught me "droive" in his "coy" down Stanton Avenue when I was 16.

And certainly a lot of people still think of the late, celebrated television and film comedian (and Armitage Heights-native) Marty Miller for his outrageous vocal characterizations of the Peshie accent (who can forget his classic shopkeeper gag? "Oh, shoyp-keepa!").

It's an accent like no other in the country, informed by the blend of influences that have made our city so unique -- from early Native American tribes that flourished along Lake Mishipeshu, to the Polish settlers that made Little Warsaw home, to the Quebecer, Delawarean and Esperanto speakers that poured in last two centuries in search of a better life. So poik your coy with pride!

Internet jokes?

I found this picture of me and the city council on a number of local blogs, and people seem very amused by it. What is it? What is the joke? Feel free to leave a comment if you have any information on who created it, or why.

My first guess that it was another odd Kaos Krew stunt, but my assistant Marisha told me recently that she'd read in some of the trades that they'll have their hands full with their latest project, which is apparently some sort of film project with David Lachapelle, Sofia Coppola and someone named "Tricky." So it seems unlikely they would still be dabbling in local internet hijinks. One can never know with those enthusiastic lawbreakers, though.

Neighborhood focus: Delawaretown.

The bustling storefronts of "Little Wilmington."

Hello, everyone. With summer in full swing and the city council adjourning for a few weeks, I thought this might be a good time to continue a regular feature I began earlier in the year, Neighborhood Focus. In this section, I'll take a look at some of the interesting, notable parts of the Armitage Heights neighborhood that you may have yet to discover!

This next neighborhood we're going to have a look at is a personal favorite, another example of the richness of diversity in our community: Delawaretown (also known popularly as "Little Wilmington"), located on the border of Kendall Park and Armitage Heights. The neighborhood is generally defined as the area between 45th and 51st Streets, with Schofield Parkway to the north and Corwin Avenue to the south.

Delawaretown began as a hardscrabble blue-collar pocket of the neighborhood, inhabited primarily by the families of workers at the nearby Armitage Munitions Works, who set up operations in 1856. In 1901, Armitage was purchased by E. I. du Pont de Nemours and Company (known generally as DuPont), who expanded the plant's output from munitions to include lacquers, cellulose chemicals and other non-explosive products. The plant became one of the most productive and innovative cogs in DuPont's empire, and beginning in 1905, huge waves of dozens upon dozens of Delawareans streamed into the neighborhood, searching to begin a new life away from their homeland. With them, they brought their customs, languages and ways of life -- early accounts of burgeoning Delawaretown are striking, like this, from a Mishipeshu Herald article on the area from 1910:

Strolling along 46th Street, one feels as if they have been transported hundreds of miles away to the Delaware River valley, with street vendors hawking what they call "tomatas," and everyone around carrying on in the puzzling dialect of the native Wilmingtonian. They dress in the native outfit of the Delawarian [sic], seemingly unaware of how odd their brown trousers, woolen coats and black shoes must seem to their non-Wilmingtonian neighbors...

One still gets that sense strolling down 46th Street on a busy weekend afternoon! You can still hear classic Delaware accents from the older shopkeepers ("wooder" for "water" -- still fascinates me!), who keep their shelves stocked with Delaware delicacies like delicious blue hen breast, peaches, crab puffs, chicken salad, carrot soup and mashed potatos -- all wrapped in DuPont cellophane, of course! The residents of Delawaretown are very proud of their unique heritage, and in fact, this small pocket of Armitage Heights has the largest population of Delawarean-Americans anywhere outside Delaware -- nearly 330. You'll often see storefront windows with pictures of noted Delawareans like George Thorogood, Pierre Samuel "Pete" du Pont IV, and Joe Biden (who, coincidentally, commands a 78% lead in Democratic primary polls in this area, as witnessed by the image to the left -- a common sight around this close-knit and politically vocal community).

And of course one can't forget the shopping! Though it's a small area, the Delawarean-American population in this pocket have managed to make their shops tax-free, much like their homeland. It's pretty easy to get a credit card, as well, since a number of major financial corporations have set up small incorporated storefront offices along 46th and 47th Streets.

This neighborhood, with it's great mix of seafood, tax-free incorporations, and phonemic æ-tensing, is a real gem. Be sure to visit for Thorogood Days in August, when the music of Delaware native George Thorogood and the Destroyers is celebrated in appropriately raucous fashion in a day-long street festival, or visit the Blue Hen, a charming tavern on Corwin Avenue at 49th Street that specializes in delicious Delaware microbrewery beers and seafood, and features live music on weekends, typically bands playing traditional Delawarean music. Listening to the music waft out into the streets, you can almost smell the salt-water and nylon in the air! It's not hard to feel the breeze coming off Lake Mishipeshu and feeling like it could be the Delaware Bay -- just like you're standing in the first state!