By Amy Silverman
By Olivia LaVecchia
By Monica Alonzo and Stephen Lemons
By Chris Parker
By Michael Lacey
By Weston Phippen
"As a talk show host, sometimes things I say get taken out of context or are exaggerated. I do not in any way advocate shooting illegal immigrants. The fact that it's necessary for me to address this shows my remarks were taken out of context."
This time, it's not that his remarks were satirical, it's that they were taken out of context? Either James has been joining Cantillo for cocktails as he's hiding among her petticoats, or he's backpedaling for dear life. But don't take The Bird's word; judge for yourself in this completely in-context excerpt from his show:
We will call it Immigration Roulette. What we will do is randomly pick one night every week where we will kill whoever crosses the border. Step over there and you die. You get to decide if it's your lucky night or not. I think that would be more fun. And for those of you that think it's racist, I'll point this out to you: I'd be happy to sit there with my high-powered rifle and my night scope, and if it's a scrawny white guy that crosses the border illegally, I don't have any problems shooting him, or a guy in a turban, or a Hispanic, or I don't care who it is. Cross the border illegally, you're toast. That's what I'd like to see. Maybe just once we'd save a lot of money, the Border Patrol guys could take six nights a week off, and one night a week they'd just go down there and put some notches on the old stock. Supply 'em a little screwdriver to, you know, scrape those notches into the stock for every one they get. Maybe we pay them a bonus. A hundred dollars a head! (Laughter.) Oh, nobody has the nerve to do it, but they didn't have to -- I mean, honestly, we're worried about terrorism, we're worried about people getting into our country, we're over right now in Iraq doing all kinds of things over there to protect ourselves, but nothing here. Nothing, zero. They can walk in and do anything they want, anytime they want, because I mean all you got to do is bring it in from Mexico and you're done.
He Smelled Like Jail
After he got sprung from the Durango Jail the other day, The Bird found out straight from Bobby's beak that he's indeed the notorious RESIST tagger.
That's right: Castaneda, who owns Se Vende gallery on Roosevelt Street, admitted he's the guy who's been defacing other downtown Phoenix art galleries -- such as Holgas, Mainstay and monOrchid -- for the past four years.
He'd "pretty much cut his own throat with us," one fellow gallery owner on the street told The Bird, even before Eddie Castaneda began begging for his bro's $1,600 bail money.
Though they had no real proof, many gallery owners claimed Bobby was the vandal.
Bobby's jail stint had nothing to do with his tagging. He was arrested in Scottsdale on March 26 on two outstanding warrants for driving on a suspended license and having an open container in a moving vehicle.
He told The Bird that his "RESIST" tagging was all about "people resisting what's happening on Roosevelt."
That would be people like, um, Bobby.
"Pretty soon, if we're not careful, this street's going to be nothing but lofts from side to side," Castaneda complained, alluding to the upscale Artisan Village at Seventh Street and Roosevelt, whose presence has pretty much polarized the arts district into those for progress versus those against gentrification.
"But I'm done with RESIST," Bobby vowed, "at least the graffiti aspect of it."
After having time to ponder in Sheriff Joe Arpaio's jail, Castaneda said he came to the conclusion that RESIST will now become a "movement" instead of "just something scribbled on a wall."
Okay, a movement. Cool.
But for the foreseeable future, Castaneda's got an electronic bracelet wrapped around his ankle that alerts authorities if his sweat measures any alcohol content. What a concept! Castaneda agreed to wear the device in exchange for a Superior Court judge's dropping a big fine for his open-container citation.
Luckily, he didn't need all that bail money after all.
Castaneda went on, "I'll be doing stuff this summer, and people will say, 'Thank God somebody's doing it!'"
Which will be better than, "I wish to God he wasn't doing it!" Which's the nicest thing art gallery owners were saying when they came to work and found he'd defaced their buildings.
Most of them would love to see Bobby get more pondering time in Joe's lockup for that.
In fact, you can rest assured that they'll be keeping an eagle eye on him.
The Bird means, if they can even recognize Castaneda now that he's shaved his head. He didn't do it to go stealth, he assured. He did it because his locks "smelled like jail."
Pride, My Feathered Ass
The Bird doesn't mind getting hate mail; in fact, this faux falcon loves it when readers call for its feathered noggin. But there's definitely something crazy about haughty homos complaining about it's contending they're ashamed to be gay -- when they are! The Bird's saying, people have insisted that they're indeed proud to be queer, and then refused to divulge their names for fear somebody will find out they're queer.