SFBG Blogs

SF Weekly keeps getting spanked

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By Tim Redmond

And the poor boring people there don’t even enjoy it.

Violet Blue weighs in today with some harsh commentary:

It’s just sad when “alternative” papers can’t be more trustworthy or accurate as the New York Times when it comes to the one thing they’re supposed to excel at: accurately representing local culture. And having a clue about San Francisco values.

And now local artist Matthew Williams has come up with an anti-SF Weekly shirt (unfortunately, some people might think NSFW is cool).

It’s been hard to find any substantive response from Matt Smith to all of this; he just complains about “anti-free-speech pornographers (as if protesting a news media column is an attack on free speech).

But in some ways, the thing I find most offensive is his suggestion that it’s appropriate for a newspaper reporter and columnist, who takes shots every week at other people, to duck calls from the press. I make it a policy to call people before I write anything critical about them (Smith apparently didn’t talk to any Kink.com models before saying that they were, in effect, degrading themselves for money out of economic desperation.) Smith says he deleted my phone message without even listening to it.

That’s just really, really lame. You work for anewspaper and you talk shit about other people, you should be willing to defend yourself, in public. When the Weekly calls me — even if I know it’s a hit piece — I always, always talk to them. That’s what you do in this business.

Unless, like Matt Smith, you just want to hit and run and hide.

Tax pot and the rich, or bury our heads

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By Steven T. Jones

Newspapers and politicians can empower citizens, or they can promote cynicism and gridlock. The package of bad choices being presented to voters in the coming election are an example of the latter, and so is an article in today’s Chronicle reporting poll results showing voters want neither tax increases nor spending cuts.

It’s certainly true that most people want maximum services and minimal taxes, but Chron’s writer Carla Marinucci does a real disservice by her selective presentation of the Field Poll results. Rather than writing “state voters strongly oppose both new taxes and cuts in their favorite programs and services,” she could have written this: A new poll shows state voters want to close the budget gap by legalizing marijuana and increasing taxes on millionaires.

Instead, readers must make the jump to learn that 56 percent of voters want to legalize and tax marijuana, something legislation by Assembly member Tom Ammiano would do. And they have to make it almost to the end of the story to read that, “Three-quarters also supported more taxes on millionaires.”

It’s sad that veteran Chronicle political writer John Wildermuth has decided to take the Hearst buyout and leave the ailing paper, and we’re left with Marinucci and her consistently disempowering and conservative point-of-view. If the Chronicle wants to become relevant to this city, they should find a political writer who can recognize and present opportunities for progress.

Kuchar alert! Zombies of Zanzibar

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‘Tis the season — San Francisco is alive with movie brilliance. To what do I refer? George Kuchar’s latest class production at San Francisco Art Institute. If you don’t have a job right now, or if you don’t have to work on International Worker’s Day, go to SFAI to see Zombies of Zanzibar.

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Spring cinema in the Bay Area hits a peak with a free screening of a movie made by Kuchar and his film production class. Billing them as the Studio 8 Players, the characteristically alliterative Zombies promises a zany array of “ACTION!…ROMANCE…TERROR…AND SPECTACLE.” Did I say it was free?

ZOMBIES OF ZANZIBAR
Fri/1, noon, free
San Francisco Art Institute Lecture Hall
800 Chestnut, SF
(415) 771-7020
www.sfai.edu/

To get you in the mood, some Kuchar on YouTube after the jump:

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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SFBG photog Ariel Soto scoops SF street fashion. See the previous Look of the Day here.

Today’s Look: Sonera, Hyde and McAllister

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Tell us about your look: “I’m wearing mostly hand-me-downs.”

Prison report: The lap of luxury?

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Editors note: Just A Guy is an inmate in the California state prison system. His reports run on Mondays and Thursdays; you can read earlier pieces here and here. It’s not easy to communicate from inside a state prison, so if it takes a while for him to respond to comments, be patient.

By Just A Guy

While there are many things and topics to be discussed about prison, I would like to talk about the little things that are de-humanizing or just plain silly and disrespectful. I don’t want this to be construed as whining, but want it to be understood that these are things we deal with every day, that the culmination of these things can be overwhelming, frustrating, and the wrong way to treat human beings.

Let’s start with laundry. We are allowed to buy our own sweatpants, shorts, shirts, socks, t-shirts, and undergarments, and are supplied with clothes as well. We are also allowed to buy our own laundry soap like Tide, so we can wash our clothes — but then then but we’re not allowed to hang our laundry so that it obscures a guard’s vision of us.

Now, remember that some of us live in dorms and there is no privacy whatsoever. A lot of us used to hang our towels up to dry after taking a shower, but if that towel is preventing an officer from seeing a one-and-a-half foot area of your bed, the guards will come and take it down or tell you to take it down. The same is often true of our just-washed-by-hand laundry; we are told we can hang it from our locker doors — which are a foot wide by two and a half feet long. So basically, there is no where to hang our laundry to dry.

The funny thing is that they say it’s a security issue because they can’t “see” us. The problem with this is that unless you are on a top bunk, the guards can’t see in your bunk anyway; how is it a security issue?

The Locust on Jerry Springer!

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In the mid-late 1990s there was a mini-movement in Northwest punk and indie rock of bands keeping it together by seeing therapists. The trend reached Cali crossover status or lameness — depending on your perspective — when Metallica made a whole movie about the value of their shrink. Now SoCal noise vets the Locust have brought some new life to the idea by a consulting a novel counselor: Jerry Springer.

I’d tell you more about these Jerry Springer Show clips if my work computer was capable of showing them at something other than Ben Hur epic length. For now, I’ll have to go with second-hand info from my friend NB, who told my other half that the theme is gay-or-bi-on-tour shenanigans. Prank, truth, or prank with some grains of truth? Depends on who you ask. The Locust: giving new meaning to the term San Diego Zoo!

The Locust on Jerry Springer, part 1

The Locust on Jerry Springer, part 2

Sonic Reducer Overage: Paris, Total Trash Weekend, Garrett Pierce, and more

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Babes in Ty land: Ty Segall messes with ya as part of Total Trash Weekend.

By Kimberly Chun

Bay rap vets and raucous rock sprats – it all goes splat this week. I’m guessing you’ll find plenty of trouble to get into – and musical artistry to appreciate – when you’re not busy downing scrump-dilly-icious (and cheap!) pastor tacos at the Gallo Giro taco truck at 23rd and Treat.

Goapele
Oakland’s own draws the curtain on new music: check her site for the spanking, sinuous “Milk + Honey.” With Cody Chestnutt. Fri/1, 9 p.m., $27. Independent, 628 Divisadero, SF. (415) 771-1422.

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This is the weekend Bay hip-hop stages The TakeOver. The local twosome takes it to another level in honor of its new long-player. With Kev Choice Ensemble and Trackademicks and the Honor Roll. Fri/1, 9 p.m., $19-$23. Slim’s, 333 11th St., SF. (415) 522-0333.

So delicious, Afrolicious 2-year blowout

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By Marke B.

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Makin’ pleasure …

One of my favorite clubs, Afrolicious, the afro-beat/Nuyorican/Brazilian/funk/disco/global weekly hosted by cute (very cute) brothers Senor Oz and Pleasuremaker, is celebrating two years of sterling service to the eager dance floor community with a double-header this week featuring NYC’s Nickodemus and Nappy G. of the legendary decade-old Turntables on the Hudson party — a formidable happening that every year I cry my eyes out for not being able to make. My East Coast friends then laugh in my face. Well, ha ha to them, I’ve got Afrolicious every week, now with Nick and Napp.

Nickodemus, “Give the Drummer Some”

As per usual, there’ll be smoking live percussion (man, I love me some bongos on the dance floor — old EndUp RIP) and a room packed with beautiful — but not that icky kind of beautiful — people not afraid to get sweaty and down. (Check out the tunes and vids here if you want a taste.)

Won’t you join me, shantytown butterfly?

AFROLICIOUS TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY
Thu/30: DJ Nickodemus and Smash, live drums by Nappy G
Fri/1: Pleasuremaker Live Band, DJs Nickodemus, Chris Nicholson, and Nappy G.
9pm, $7/$10
Elbo Room
647 Valencia, SF.
www.elbo.com

Bonus: Turntables on the Hudson 10-year party:

Confessions: Color me satisfied

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By Molly Freedenberg

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Is it just me, or does the dude screwing a mattress in this photo from Vice look like the lead singer of Gogol Bordello? (Gypsy punk = hot. Defiled dorm beds? Not so much.)

Speaking of sex toys (and just in time for National Masturbation Month), I recently came across this entertaining feature on Viceland.com about favorite teenage sex toy substitutes.

The choices for women weren’t particularly surprising, though I can honestly say I’ve never heard of anyone using a BB gun or of anyone admitting to sexually abusing their cat. But reading about what teenage boys do blew me away. A hole in the mattress? Bologna between the couch cushions? Really? Does anyone really do this? Or is Vice just fucking with me?

Either way, the article got me thinking about my own teenage dalliances into household-objects-as-sex-toy territory. Though I rarely deviated from the tried-and-true method I mentioned earlier this week, I did have a few late-night sessions with long tapered candles (which, I promise, I never returned to the kitchen drawer where I found them) and my thick, mint-green 10-color pen from elementary school (I think I did actually write with it after that — surely notes to friends that I folded into little triangles and passed in class).

The Blender: What we’ve been eating

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By the peckish Guardian Staff

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(1) Tonno puttanesca, Pesce, SF

(2) Meyer lemon ginger ale

(3) Tofu stew and vegan brownies, San Francisco Zen Center

(4) Trader Joe’s chile-spiced mango slices

(5) Fish tacos and mango agua fresca, El Metate

Down with OPP?

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By Paula Connelly

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I regularly cruise the Craigslist “free stuff” section. In fact, more than half of my apartment has been furnished with other people’s recycled property. Picking out furniture from Craigslist is no small test of bravery (especially for someone who has had to abandon all her possessions because of a serious bedbug infestation) because you never know what, or whom, you’re going to encounter. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and today I forwarded three links from Craigslist to my roommate (view them here, here, and here) that are all from the same closing nightclub, giving away some cool looking 60’s Mod style furniture – for free! To boot, the address listed is only a few blocks from my urban palace. Which got me thinking… what nightclub, that I don’t go to, is right around the corner?

Power Exchange! Nothing personal against the swinging, exhibitionist haven. Actually, I’m sad to see such a unique sex club close and I hope that they find a way to reopen. But that doesn’t mean I’m down with other people’s fluids, free or not.

Short-sighted solar

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By Tim Redmond

The supervisors voted yesterday to continue for one week the proposal to let a private company build a solar plant on the Sunset reservoir. I’m glad the supes didn’t approve the project, but a week’s delay isn’t enough. This contract has real problems, and needs to be sent back to committee for a complete overhaul.

Harvey Rose, the supervisors budget analyst, pointed out one flaw that he urged the board not to accept: The deal would require the supes to waive their right to oversee annual appropriations for the project, essentially locking the city into spending money on it every year for the next 25 years.

The Sierra Club is pushing this, arguing that right now the city doesn’t have the money and only a private contactor can make this sort of project happen. I disagree: The city has the ability to float bonds for a project like this, and a solar bond act would pass by about 75 percent in San Francisco, and if local officials think there’s no way to lverage some federal money for this, they aren’t trying hard enough.

In fact, the appropriations deal means that the city will be financing the project, anyway, for all practical purposes. The vendor, Recurrent Energy, wants to use the contractual guarantee of annual funding to convince lenders to support the project.

Why is San Francisco so insistent on letting the private sector run our energy business? Oh, I can think of one reason: I see campaign video now.

“Gavin Newsom built the largest solar energy project in any American city — without taxypayer money.”

Great campaign line when you’re running for governor. And by the time the taxpayers actually get stuck with the bill, this mayor will be long gone.

Size (of sea level rise) matters

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Text by Sarah Phelan.

The San Francisco Bay Conservation and Development Commission has released detailed color maps that show the low-lying areas around the Bay in danger of flooding from global-warming related sea level rise. And while the maps look awfully pretty, the impacts likely won’t be.

Using U.S. Geological Survey data, the maps show the extent of inundation on each section of shoreline and
and can be enlarged to show a pretty high-rez image.

You can see the impacts of a predicted 16-inch rise, (predicted in 40 yeas) on say, the Central Bay here, a 55-inch rise (predicted in 90 years,) and, perhaps most revealing of all, a composite of the two.

First used in a BCDC draft report, Living with a Rising Bay: Vulnerability and Adaptation in San Francisco Bay and on the Shoreline, released earlier this month, the maps show that 180,000 acres of shoreline are in danger of flooding by 2050, increasing to 213,000 acres by 2100.

“This means that 84 percent of the area that will be flooded in 90 years will already be under water in 40 years,” said BCDC’s executive director Will Travis in a press release. “Most of this area is low-lying flat land that was created when shallow parts of the Bay were reclaimed by land fill projects in the 19th and 20th centuries.”

Or as Leslie Lacko, the principal author of the BCDC sea level rise report on sea level rise, put it, “The areas that will be flooded by high tides at mid-century are already within the 100-year floodplain, where currently there’s a one percent chance of flooding every year. By 2050, the chance of flooding in the same area will be 100 percent every year.”

Snap sounds: Rubies

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By Johnny Ray Huston

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RUBIES

Explode from Center

(Telle)

The Norway-to-our-Bay connection is strong in this group, which bridges Bergen and San Francisco. No cosmic disco, though: Simone Rubi plays chanteuse over pop arrangements. The result never reaches the Cardigans’ sublimity, but it matches the warmth of Lois and Marine Girls.

Rubies, “I Feel Electric”

Rubies play Sunday, June 14 at The Independent

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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SFBG photog Ariel Soto scoops SF street fashion. See the previous Look of the Day here.

Today’s Look: Nikola, Market and Franklin

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Tell us about your look: “I wake up in the morning and think how can I stand out by wearing something different from what I wore yesterday.”

Hot sex events this week: April 29-May 5

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Compiled by Molly Freedenberg

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>> Latex Fashion School
Polly Pandemonium of the Moral Minority hosts this class in Latex clothing construction, which includes not only learning to sew with the fabulous fabric but how to spot a well-made garment. The course might seem pricey, but you’ll leave with materials and instructions to make your wardrobe even steamier.

Thurs/30, 7-10pm. $200.
Mission Control
2519 Mission, SF
kinkysalon.com

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>> A Touch of Pleasure
Sex educator and porn star Madison Young hosts this event featuring art and installations like steam-punk vibrators, Kink.com fucking machines, and a display of antique sex toys, all in honor of National Masturbation Month.

Sat/2, 7-10pm. Free.
(Show runs Thurs-Sun, 12-6pm, through May 31)
Femina Potens Art Gallery
2199 Market, SF
www.feminapotens.org

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>> IXFF: The Second Coming Tour at the Masturbate-a-thon
Oh lordy, it’s voyeur heaven. The Indie Erotic Film Festival kicks off its national tour of last year’s best shorts with a stop at the Center for Sex and Culture Masturbate-a-thon: as though watching featured masturbators compete to get themselves off wasn’t titillating enough. All proceeds benefit the Center. (If you want to compete in this year’s film festival, visit www.gv-ixff.org.

Sat/2, 11am-close. $15-25.
Center for Sex and Culture
1519 Mission, SF
www.maturbate-a-thon.com

alt.sex.column: What do (people) want?

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By Andrea Nemerson. View more alt.sex columns here. Email your questions to Andrea: andrea@altsexcolumn.com

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Dear Andrea:
Have you heard of a study that analyzed biometric feedback from self-identified male bisexuals, and the notable finding was that the overwhelming majority of these men were in fact homosexual, not bisexual? The conclusion of the study was that "true" male bisexuality is extremely rare. (For what it’s worth, I consider myself a "true" male bisexual, but what do I know?)

I also heard about another study from at least 10 years ago that tracked the sexual fantasies of self-identified lesbians, and the surprising result was that some 50 percent of these women actually fantasized about men while doing it with their female partners.

Have you heard of these, and would you care to comment?
Love,

Actually Here!

Dear Here:

I have, of course, and they’re all fascinating, partly for the science (which is generally super-simple and not easily misinterpreted) and partly for the reactions in the various communities whenever one of these studies is reported, which are frankly pretty funny.

The "there’s no such thing as male bisexuality" studies have received the most press, and the biggest, most offended reactions, but it’s not like the researchers at Northwestern University and the Center for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto set out to disprove the existence of an entire sexual orientation! All they did was hook up some volunteers to a plethysmograph and show them porn. I think the first researchers were probably as surprised as anyone when the self-identified bi men failed to respond in a recognizably "bi" manner. About three-quarters of the bi men read as completely gay according to their penises (do penises lie?), while the rest were indistinguishable from the self-identified straight guys. There was no recognizable "bi" pattern of arousal, and the subjects seemed overwhelmingly to fall on one or the other end of the Kinsey scale:

Hark! Thee Oh Sees, Mayyors, and Nodzzz swing through

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By L.C. Mason

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"Less is more" sucks; "more is more" rules. Maybe that’s just the indulgent kid in me talking, but it hasn’t stopped me from incessantly barking my musical wet dream over a bullhorn to anyone with ears: more fuzz, grit, and grime; more sweat; more eyeballs rolling back into heads; more microphones in mouths. Then one day, Christmas came early. Hark! The herald angels sing. Someone heard these ardent desires and delivered to me a glittering layer cake of wondrous noise — a megabill starring garage kingpins Thee Oh Sees, incognito feedback wizards Mayyors, and lo-fi clamor popsters Nodzzz.

This Bay Area-baked rock ‘n’ roll show might reduce any holier-than-thou longhair into a hapless fanboy or girl — while still maintaining that hip exterior, of course. But that’s okay. You’ll get over pretending you’re cool, because you’ll soon be quoting the wise words of Britney Spears, yelling "Gimme gimme more" in reflex to the spectacle of visceral, adrenochrome-addled power. Like when Mayyors’ caged-animal vocalist John Pritchard lets loose his devilish yawps; or when ax-wielder Chris Woodhouse’s dirty, torrential licks get ghoulish; or when Oh Sees’ guitarist Petey Dammit hones in on a laser-cut groove and won’t let go; or when the Nodzzz boys brazenly wail "Is she there? Is she there?" over swooning, sun-lit strums; or when, or when, or when….

More is more: when it rains it pours.

THEE OH SEES, MAYYORS, NODZZZ With Sunny and the Sunsets. Wed/29, 8 p.m., $5. El Rincon, 2700 16th Street, SF. (415) 437-9240. www.elrinconsf.com>.

Men and their Moogs: Junior Boys vs. Sebastien Tellier

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By Andre Torrez

I went to Bimbo’s to see Junior Boys on a whim. I knew someone who had an extra spot on the list. I didn’t know what I was getting into, and was just happy to hang with my friend. Parking was a bitch, but we settled on a lot and made our way into the swank club. North Beach was definitely in the house.

Looking around, I couldn’t help but notice that this wasn’t exactly my scene. I felt like I was in an episode from The O.C. where the kids somehow get to hang in the bar and watch the latest “cool indie band” circa-2004. Waiting in anticipation of a band you don’t know usually proves to be anti-climactic, but there was something about the performance itself that was amiss. It didn’t take long for me to put my finger on it: I was annoyed at the lack of camaraderie between the band members, especially the core songwriting duo: the front man and the mysteriously silent man on the Moog synthesizer directly to his left. The drummer was in the background as expected, albeit all Genesis-looking because of the cool lighting, but the lead singer and this Moog man were placed prominently next to one another even though Moog man never spoke a word. I guess he had a cool haircut and all, but if you’ve got nothing to say and little to do, why take the spotlight? He might as well have been a prop. It was almost as if a wall was dividing front man and Moog man — they had little to no interaction with one another on stage. Not even a glance.

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Moog man and frontman.

The two main men of Junior Boys would be better off pursuing separate musical paths, instead of catering to trends by fusing the electronic with the organic. With his scruffy look, the lead singer-guitarist came across as more of a traditional songwriter. He focused on lyrics and on connections with the audience. He was adept at banter and seemed to thrive off the audience’s energy. The man at the Moog admittedly held down the electronic portion of the show, but he was utterly detached. Given the opportunity to let loose, I’m sure he’d come alive — if he just wasn’t stifled by that other guy with the words and guitar. Both parties would flourish creatively if they just ditched the commercial combination sound. But who am I to judge? It’s probably payin’ the bills.

One night later at the Independent, Sebastien Tellier had the Moog-and-guitar combo down to a science. His sound was a perfect balance of heavy, deep, and dark elements. He had a lot more fun mixing synthesizers and rock star posturing, with a guitar representing a full-on phallus.

Raise a glass to Paul Taylor Dance Company

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By Rita Felciano

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Let’s send a libation or some other such thing in the direction of Terpsichore — the muse of dance — because Paul Taylor Dance Company is back. For five consecutive years, we’ve had an opportunity to gain a perspective on Taylor’s 50-plus years of dance-making. Then the money ran out. Thankfully San Francisco Performances found a way to have these remarkable dancers return with another set of three different Taylor programs. The earliest, the very dark Scudorama, which was thought to be lost, dates back to 1963. The most recent, Beloved Renegade, inspired by Walt Whitman and Francis Poulenc, premiered in February of this year. Taylor is sometimes considered old-fashioned because early in his career he abandoned self-conscious formal experimentations in favor of honing his pieces — the way a jeweler does when he polishes a diamond in order to bring out its many facets. In Taylor inspiration is wedded to musicality and craft. He also happens to be a sardonic observer of our foibles and vices. And when he strikes — hypocrisy is a favorite topic — he cuts to the bone. Few choreographers have made work which can be so joyously celebratory in one piece — both Esplanade (1975) and Arden Court (1981) are in the line-up — and so mordantly corrosive in the next that it leaves you shivering.

PAUL TAYLOR DANCE COMPANY Wed/29-Sat/2, 8 p.m.; Sun/3, 2 p.m., $32-$49. Novellus Theater, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, 700 Howard, SF. (415) 392-2545, www. performances.org

SFIFF 52 review: “Crude”

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By Natalie Gregory

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If you were unaware of the lawsuit between the indigenous Ecuadorian people and Chevron/Texaco, watching Joe Berlinger’s Crude will get you up to speed. It’s a documentary about the case following the plaintiffs and their lawyers in their seemingly impossible fight against one of the most powerful American companies. Pablo Fajardo is the Ecuadorian native lawyer who battles with impressive, inspiring fervor on behalf of his indigenous citizens. Joining him is New York attorney Steven Donziger, a bilingual Harvard whiz who seems amazed that they are even getting through proceedings (the film certainly mentions the David vs. Goliath element of the lawsuit). The case is still locked in litigation and pending testimonies. But the film is powerful in its defense for the native people of Ecuador, and the state of the Amazon. If you only half-questioned Chevron’s ethics before, this film will make you opt for a Shell station — or some form of alternative transportation.

Crude screens at the San Francisco International Film Festival Wed/29, 6:30pm, Sundance Kabuki; Thurs/30, 6:30pm, Sundance Kabuki; and Sat/2, 6:15pm, PFA.

Soft (or smart) on crime?

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By Tim Redmond

So the Contra Costa County district attorney is driving everyone crazy with his vow to stop prosecuting minor crimes unless the county supervisors rescind his budget cuts.

Now, he’s suggesting that burglary and reckless driving won’t be prosecuted any more, which is probably not the smartest thing to say; CoCo county has a bad reckless driving problem, and announcing that burglars are free to come and go might not be so nice for the welathy homeowners with their big-screen TVs nad abundant jewelry in fancy subdevelopments.

But imagine if the DA in Contra Costa (and DAs in San Francisco and Alameda Counties) instead pledged to stop prosecuting, say, simple drug posession cases? Suppose small-time sales were included, too, along with prostitution. The counties would save a ton of money, millions of dollars that’s wasted every year putting people through the court system, and sometimes into jail, for offenses that shouldn’t be criminal anyway.

You could still bust the burglars and the people who run over old ladies. But you’d save even more money and the streets would be safer. No?

Pics: Been There Done That greens up youth style

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Text and photos by Ariel Soto

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I have a confession to make: I’m 25 years old and I’m totally obsessed with Gossip Girl. My friend Bobbi Noodle and I spend hours talking about the drama behind Serena’s possible marriage in Spain and whether or not Blair will actually get into Yale in the end (don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about people … I’m sure at least a few of you are addicted too). Last Sunday night I felt like I had entered the world of Gossip Girl, but a cooler, more aware, San Francisco version of Gossip Girl. I was at the Been There Done That Fashion Show at Temple Nightclub, a benefit for Victory Gardens+ and get this … the event was produced by two high school students, Zoe Fisher and Audrey Snyder from Urban High School.

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