“I have written a song for Natasha. I heard the news one Saturday morning two months ago and was shocked and saddened. My band and I decided to explore our sorrow in a musical tribute. We finished it recently and I have posted our lyrics below. She is a beautiful swan and I know she’ll recover soon. So this is for Natasha...

The River

They can take what they want
They can have all they have
But there’s one thing that’s true
And that’s cuz of you in the night
Nobody knowing in the night
Woah-o, ahhh-o

And since the dawn of the very last day
The children of night asked you to play
But you sat all alone and you begged and
You prayed to die. Oh why?
Woah-o, ahhh-o

Then suddenly you weren’t there
And the man came home to find you
Sitting all alone with your past behind you
Trying on the clothes you think will suit
Your needs
These are dull days indeed, but you better take heed

The river runs sometimes dry
The river runs sometimes high
The river can go upstream
The river can ride

The river can ride along with me

They took what they could from you
But what more can you do?
Stick a needle in your arms
And scream the night away
For the dawn brings new day!

They took what you had said
And wished that you were dead
Then once those fans were fed
They went on to another who could
Give them something for nothin’

You asked for something in return
And soon the cities will burn
In retribution for what is earned
When what’s known is not known for sure
The river can only be seen
By the ones who have surely been

Don’t die today. Don’t go away.
Don’t be that way, I can find us a way
To get by. A way to survive. The river sometimes
Runs high.
Woah-oh, ahhh-o
The river
Woah-oh, ahhh-o
The river
Woah-o, ahhh-o
The river will set you free”

That’s beautiful. We hear the melody as sounding sort of like “Wind Beneath My Wings.” Please send in music set to these words and win a surprise gift from us. That’s right, it’s a contest.

LATINO DEFENSE LEAGUE
Hey Vice,
Where do you fucking honkies get off invading some hardworking family’s space and making fun of all their habits? I bet that fucking girl-looking fag was fed more and better food in those two days and treated with better hospitality than he’d ever had in his trust-fund fucking life, and he turns around and just cold lays into them. When did you guys turn from one of the best mags around to bullshit hipster insult mongers? Maybe for a follow-up you could send that homo to the Holocaust Museum to laugh at everyone crying.
DAVID R.
Detroit, ME

PS: I’ve been in plenty of white folks’ homes with no books in them. But I suppose hanging out with them wouldn’t have been as “edgy” a story, would it have?

The author just called ’em as he saw ’em. We think that family came off pretty good. PS: What’s with all this “trust-fund kid” talk? Does anyone even know anyone who knows anyone with a trust fund anymore? That’s like something you hear about in college and then the guy moves to France.

BITTER IN BELFAST
Dear Vice,
Thank you so much for Jason Johnson’s piece on the Belfast teens and the recent riots. It seems like ever since the Good Friday Agreement, the sort of hopefully oblivious mind-set that bred terms like “the Troubles” has spread well past its Republican foundation into the world at large. I’m doing a Master’s right now in British and Irish History, and even the people I’m working with (the other students—all the profs already lean toward Sinn Fein/IRA, naturally) act like it’s all over and done with. They hold up the decommissioning announcement from back in September and are all like, “See, Good Friday worked,” without stopping for a second to think why this happily-ever-after little news bullet is showing up seven years after the fact. Then you turn around and ask them to explain all the fucking gun-running raids, the Castlereagh break-in, the Northern bank robbery (which it was just announced, big fucking surprise here, was them), the Lurgan taxi bomb, et al, et al, and all they can respond with is “But Gerry Adams says...” (they are all in fucking love with him, BTW) as if that bearded ponce had never once touched a gun.

Anyways, sorry to get long-winded about all this, but nobody here seems to realize things are still in a really shitty state, and I’m glad you guys are here to let them know.
Cheers,
MATT NORTON
Via email



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