Marke B. Archives — Page 33 of 55 — San Francisco Bay Guardian Archive 1966

Street Threads: What the heck are you wearing?

October 19, 2008

Guardian street photog Ariel Soto takes in San Francisco style.

Kisha, Crystal, and Gianna, Eddy and Divisadero

After my last few fashion seeking jaunts through the city, the styles seems to be moving towards fall, with boots galore and then a mix of almost all black and white, or totally color crazy. Luckily for us city dwellers, the sun is still shining here in San Francisco and we don’t have to completely cover up to fight the elements, or our toes for that matter, as many were still sporting cute open toed sandals. My favorite fashionista this round? Olive in her adorable purple pants. Whose style do you lust over?

Anee, Castro and 18th Street

Carol, Fillmore and Sacramento

Corey, Pierce and Post

Jamie, Sacramento and Fillmore

James, McAllister and Divisadero

Mayumi, Buchanan and Sutter

Fashionable Francophiles: Meet Please Dress Up!

October 19, 2008

By Justin Juul

Please Dress Up! is a clothing company run by Grant Doolittle and Judy Berbarian, two artists who live in near the Panhandle. If you’ve noticed all the girls rocking stripy shirts and pencil pants in the last few months, it’s because of them.

SFBG: So what’s your deal?
Judy Berbarian: My name’s Judy Berbarian and this is Grant Doolittle and we make up the label Please Dress Up! We’re custom clothiers/fashion designers.

SFBG: What’s the general idea behind Please Dress Up!?
Doolittle: Well, it’s just as the name states, really. We want people to dress up and we want to create unique pieces that are timeless in both style and in construction so they can do it. The name Please Dress Up! came to us after realizing what direction we wanted to take our clothing. It’s clear and direct and people get the message right away, I think.

SFBG: Do you fit in with any fashion trends, like a specific school of fashion or whatever?
Berbarian: Our work is rooted in the tradition of French couture: custom made-to-measure garments all available in different fine fabrics. We don’t pay much attention to trends, but we do admire other designers. Some of our favorites are Balenciaga, Viktor and Rolf, Yves Saint Laurent, Christian Dior, and John Galliano.

SFBG: What about local designers? Are you part of an indie fashion movement or something?

Berbarian: We’re pretty separate from any scene, but we do admire some local designers. Al from Al’s Attire in North Beach is our favorite. He’s a true craftsman and his work is just amazing. We’d love to have a shop just like his once we get a little more settled. As far as us fitting in to the design scene here, it’s been kinda hard. San Francisco used to be a Mecca for designer and high-quality clothing, but the industry has sort of disappeared and so have most of the resources for designers like us. All we have is each other to push our creativity further. On the flipside though, the indie designer scene here is special because it’s so raw. Also, people here really want to support locally made crafts. That’s why all the indie festivals have been doing so well lately.

SFBG: So how did you guys get into the fashion thing? Did you go to fashion or design school or anything?

Doolittle: Nope. No school for me.
Berbarian: Me neither. I’ve been sewing since I was 14 though. I always wanted to do this, but my Aunt discouraged me. It’s was kind of weird because she always made all my clothes, yet she wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer or something. But I just wanted to be like her and make clothes. I was doing it on my own for a while and then Grant came along. We’ve been friends for seven years now, and we’ve been living together for like a year.

Free hugs

October 15, 2008

› superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Gurl, she ‘sploded. Such as! LoveFest was killer; everyone’s ready to party, yes to the hell. Fuck the Dow — we’re riding high. And as I gingerly picked my glitter-stilettoed way over the limp bodies of the underaged strewn about the Civic Center pavement — bonjour, toxicity — I couldn’t help but get a tad tickly at the sudden blast of youth, however wobbly and wide-eyed, tripping onto the scene. Do they teach Electro Appreciation in high schools now, right between Online Shopping and Intro to Twitter? Children, check your levels, though. Messy’s no must to feel the love. Signed, One Who’s Too Famous for Puking on Dance Floors. That’s my Indian rave name.

Fave fest freakouts: Nikola Baytala serenely dropping Joey Beltram’s 17-year-old barnburner "Energy Flash" at the Kontrol float; Doc Martin flooding the Stompies with Royal House’s "Can U Party," Honey Soundsystem’s way-too-high-concept "Death of Shade" gay funeral, Method1 and Emcee Child breaking dubwise with Lower Haighters, Temple’s solar-powered rainbow pillars, and the "wha???" Donate4Life float, complete with flashing aorta and sexy nurses. Total acid disaster visual.

Only beef: where the ladies at? There was more estrogen behind SF decks a decade ago — not saying, just saying. Now, let’s carry the happy shit into fall, shall we? The lights in the sky are low, and the darker the earlier the better, say I.

NONSTOP BHANGRA FIVE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY

If you miss out on this beloved bhangra blowout’s quintennial, you’ll be sari! I totally just got myself banned for life with that weak pun-jab, so more space on the dance floor for you to twirl and twinkle with the amazing dholRhythms dancers to DJ Jimmy Love’s desi bhang-bhang.

Sat/18, 9 p.m., $15–$20. Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF. (415) 861-2011, www.rickshawstop.com

MUSHROOM JAZZ

Once upon a time there was something called the Internet Boom, and everyone tried to out-ultralounge one another in an acid-jazz frenzy of chocotinis and bottle service, to fill the bleak emptiness inside. Luckily, one big-name DJ named Mark Farina created one of the loveliest and most lasting mixes of that scary, scary time, Mushroom Jazz (Om). Now he’s back with a sixth installment of the ‘shrooming series, and a killer release party to reboot.

Sat/18, 10 p.m., $15–$20. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. (415) 626-7001, www.mighty119.com

SOCIETY

Jeebus, I chafe when teh geigh from LA land here to show us how to throw a cute homo party. We know — we’re just not all showy about it. But I gotta give the City of Angels’ edgy, couture-driven Society shindig peeps props. Their energetically fey galas have become the underground toast of the limp-wristed coast.

Sun/19, 9 p.m., $5. Etiquette, 1108 Market, SF. (415) 863-3929, www.myspace.com/societylosangeles

UMOJA HI-FI

It sucks to be crushed out on an entire soundsystem — the texting bills are astronomical. So why’s dread bass wonderland monthly Surya Dub, after kicking dubstep dust up with the amazing Bug and Warrior Queen show in September, gotta get my thumbs all itchy by bringing in this truly classic, 15-year-old, heavy-heavy monster sound Cali crew? Fireworks, steppers, fireworks.

Oct. 25, 10 p.m., $10. Six, 60 Sixth St., SF. (415) 863-1221, www.suryadub.com

A double dutch affair: SFC hops and skips into our hearts

October 13, 2008

By Justin Juul

Jill Herrera (Switchblade), Valerie Hurysz (Death Valley), and Erin Dougherty (Venom Miss) of SFC Double Dutch can do The Ludicrous, The Donkey Kong, and The Turducken all without breaking a sweat. Never heard of these tricks before? Don’t worry, after a six-week course at SFC, your vocabulary will be full of weird slang and you’ll be pushin’ more rope than an exhausted porn star. The Guardian caught up with The SFC Girls recently to find out what happens when journalists stop staring at their computers and start gettin’ down.

SFBG: So what’s your deal?

Switchblade: We are Switchblade, Death Valley, and Venom Miss, Otherwise known as SFC Double Dutch. We jump rope, perform, and teach classes in the Bay Area.

SFBG: How did you get into the Double Dutch thing? I mean, is there a scene? Do you battle other Double Dutch crews and stuff? Or did you sort of just pick the jump rope thing randomly?

Switchblade: We met in the summer of 2002 and we wanted something physical to do with our friends. We just sort of landed on this, really. As far as a scene goes, there’s not really a battle scene like you find in break dancing. The Double Dutch community is really organized and clean and it’s not what you imagine when you think of old New York street-style stuff.

SFBG: But that’s kind of what you guys are all about, right, the street stuff? Are you the first people take that sort of old-school New York aesthetic and apply it to your group?

Free-flowin’: Independent Fashion Fest dazzles

October 12, 2008

Photos and text by Ariel Soto

Edgy, non-traditional and dramatic models made their way down the catwalk Saturday night at the Yerba Buena Center of the Arts Bay Area Independent Craft & Couture Runway show. There was no lack of creative and unique designs, all of which seemed to stem from the free and colorful spirit of San Francisco. The fashion presented, which featured local designers who focus on creating sustainable clothing and stick by green business practices, featured designers from R.A.G. Co-op, Hellyn Teng Mersereau, Sarah Zins, Rehema Bah, and Erin Mahoney.

Feast: 5 halal heavens

October 8, 2008

The Muslim world has just wrapped up another Ramadan, the sacred month of fasting and reflection during which it’s said the Qu’ran was delivered to the Prophet Muhammed. What better time to explore some of the delicious Islamic-influenced restaurants of the Bay that feature halal food — literally, "permitted" by Islamic law? Let’s get deliciously permissive!

Adherence to halal traditions is most manifest in certain types and slaughter of meat. Exact proscriptions vary, but here’s the main gist: no pork, donkey meat, or carnivorous animals except for seafood and fish; blood must be completely drained before butchering; and all animals must be conscious when killed by a "person of the book" — Muslim, Christian, or Jew — while Allah’s name is intoned. Halal fans, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, swear by the tenderness and flavor of such meats — although that may have to do as much with cooking preparation as killing style. There’s a wealth of restaurants here that serve some heavenly halal dishes, and since Islam covers a good chunk of the globe, there’s a bounty of different cuisines to try. Most, but not all, halal spots will hang their certification in the window, and if you’d like to do the cooking yourself, halal meats are available at butcher shops such as Salama Halal Meat (604 Geary, SF. 415-474-0359), the goat-a-licious Alhambra Meat Company (3111 24th St., SF. 415-525-4499), or stunning variety store Queen of Sheba (1100 Sutter, SF. 415-567-4322). One halal holdback: alcohol is not usually served at these restaurants, so call ahead if you want some chardonnay with your tibsi. (Marke B.)

BANG SAN THAI

A surprise to me: there are oodles of Islamic enclaves in Thailand, a mainly Buddhist nation. Bang San is a beyond-cute little kitchen-counterlike eatery in the Tenderloin which serves only halal meats in its spicy Thai favorites — especially good are the ginger beef pad king sod rice plate and the sweet red kang dang pumpkin curry kicked up with some jalapeño vinegar condiment. Bonus: satay to die for. The best part here, however, is the service — even though Bang San’s operators had been fasting all day for Ramadan, they were out-of-control friendly and welcoming.

505 Jones, SF. (415) 440-2610, www.bangsanthai.com

TAJINE

Hunky Beau and I took our Swiss friend to this beloved Moroccan spot’s new digs on Polk Street (the street for halal restos) because, really, the Swiss know from Moroccan food. The verdict? Authentically fab. Tajines are Africa’s version of Asian clay-pot dishes, stewlike in texture and cooked to piping-hot goodness. The tajine of white beans with merquez sausage was a hearty delight, with smoky undertones steaming up through the done-just-right legumes, which on different menus tend to smother any and all other flavors. Also an instant hit was the tajine guanemy — peel-off-the-bone lamb with artichoke hearts and peas, which delivered a spicy kick to match its neon green color.

1338 Polk, SF. (415) 440-1718, www.tajinerestaurant.com

DE AFGHANAN KABOB HOUSE

Intent on grabbing a bite to eat before the dragzilla Trannyshack Kiss-Off party up the street, I had the great fortune to order at this wee Nob Hill joint just as the first out Olympic gold medalist, Matthew Mitcham, was making his historic winning dive on the big screen. Kismet? The food more than matched my exuberance: I can’t imagine diving into a bigger Afghan taste bud celebration than that which resulted from my first forkful of quabili pallow (buttery chunks of lamb baked with carrots, raisins, and basmati brown rice) and mantu (steamed dumplings bursting with savory seasoned beef, topped with a cloud-light split-pea yogurt sauce). One specialty you shouldn’t miss: the bolani kadoo pumpkin turnover. Fall’s perfect snack? Yes.

1303 Polk, SF. 415-345-9947, www.deafghanan.net

OLD MANDARIN ISLAMIC

It’s pretty much an open secret that the popular but not too popular Old Mandarin is one of the most unique chow spots in the city. Um, Islamic Chinese food? Let’s go! It’s easy to go ape wild for the tiny, lively Outer Sunset resto’s specialties: hot pot, with a soup base, various spices and sauces, and a plateful of "animal parts" to cook yourself, and warm pot — hot pot’s already-fully-assembled sibling. But for me the à la carte lamb dishes are the true stars, including super-spicy Mongolian lamb and delectably tangy cumin lamb. The unbeatable lamb dumplings (a.k.a. pot stickers) benefit from a night in the refrigerator, so get some to go.

3132 Vicente, SF. (415) 564-3481

HAYES AND KEBAB

This Hayes Valley newbie offers some sturdy Mediterranean favorites in a relaxed atmosphere, and is a lovely no-brainer for a not-too-dressy pre- or post-symphony bite. I’m a sucker for the chicken gyro served as a salad, with melt-in-your-mouth shredded chicken topping a robust mix of greens and veggies, dressed in a simple lemon-oil combo. The kebab plates are killer, too, with skewered lamb or beef delivered with a colorful side combo of rice and bulgar pilafs. "Alexander’s favorite" is another yummer: Thin-sliced marinated lamb and beef with bread cubes in fresh tomato sauce and yogurt. I don’t know who Alexander is, but I like him.

406 Hayes, SF. (415) 861-2977, www.hayeskebab.com

>>More Feast: The Guardian Guide to Bay Area Dining and Drinking

Electoral collide-o-scope: smooches and fury

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October 8, 2008
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Two snapshots of the right and left — such as! — at this increasingly hysterical election moment that I think say it all:

This month’s cover of The Progressive:

And an AP “shot” from one of Palin’s Florida rallies yesterday. (The one where someone yelled “kill him!” or the one where they screamed at an African American sound man to “sit down, boy!”? And weren’t these kids just at LoveFest last Saturday?)

Of course, it seems right now we’re winning — so say these wonderful things loud and proud, lest you lose your chance soon. And yet, we’re losing ground on Prop 8 — help out already! It’s an upside-down autumn, and I feel like wearing shoes on my feet and hamburgers eating people.

Shout outs: Fierce bloggers and others to help stay sane during all this kerfuffle: Megan at Jezebel (this should be taught at blogging school), Ta-Nehisi Coates at the Atlantic, of course the fab Kos who is freaking killing it this election with the wonky deets, and, as ever, Cathy Horyn‘s coverage of the global fashion weeks — because I’m far too busy frantically, panickedly checking the politisphere to measure this season’s hemlines. Plus, that third grade class in Alaska. Stay golden, kids!

Life training, the Maasai warrior way

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October 7, 2008
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By Michelle Broder Van Dyke

Maasai Warrior Sabore Ole Oiye, aka “Baby Giraffe” at Grace Cathedral on Sept. 27, with little giraffes

To see from other people’s perspectives, and to genuinely remember (or realize) that not everyone’s lives is yours, is a gift; or so says the late David Foster Wallace in a commencement speech I read the other day on the Guardian’s Promosexual blog, recited originally in 2005. Wallace stated that we should strive to see from other people’s perspectives, remember that we are not the center of the universe and that, in fact, other people have bad days, too. So, don’t feel so sorry for yourself. Or at least something to that effect is proclaimed by Wallace, but at greater length, with more subtlety and much more eloquence. As Wallace puts it: “I can choose to force myself to consider the likelihood that everyone else in the supermarket’s checkout line is just as bored and frustrated as I am, and that some of these people probably have harder, more tedious and painful lives than I do.”

Sometimes, though, you are adjacent to a world that is so different from the one that you’re familiar with that you don’t have to choose to remember that you are not the center of the universe, because the truth of the matter is staring you in the face. Instead, the importance becomes less remembering that you are not the center, but having to come to terms with and decide what you are going to do with this knowledge. Wallace offers an option, which seems still fitting for my own experience: “The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.”

Maasai Warrior Sabore Ole Oiye, nicknamed “baby giraffe,” towered above me at the Maasai Warrior Training at the Grace Cathedral a couple Saturdays ago, stating calmly, without even a slight smile in his eye, that he has killed two lions in his lifetime. Lifting his two-sided spear, Sabore explained that the blunt side is for throwing; the lion will first need to be declared TKO. The other side is razor-sharp, and ready to spear the lion. The Maasai warriors wear the mane of the lion home, and slide the tail over the sharp-end of the spear as they heroically return to their village.

New Maasai warriors are trained for six to eight years in “the bush,” the all-encompassing term that refers to the wild wilderness of Kenya, which surrounds their village. The warriors learn how to slay lions, which in a polygamous patriarchal society that measures worth in manes and cattle, is extremely important. A woman in the audience asked: “What reasons make you kill lions?” To which Sabore explained, “The main reason is to show that you are brave. And then your friends will say, ‘come and marry my sister.’” They also learn, based on the ancient ways of the nomadic Maasai, basic survival skills – how to protect themselves from wild animals and how to live off of the land.

Pics: LoveFest whirls and twirls (and sometimes hurls)

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October 6, 2008
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Photos and text by Ariel Soto

Love was in the air this Saturday as thousands of scanty and colorfully clad party people made their way down Market Street, accompanied by beats so loud it even made the side line spectators shake a few moves. As the floats went by, ranging from outer space tanks to pink elephants, the passengers threw water, confetti and even pink panties at eager voyeurs below. I swear there must not a single pair of fishnets to buy anywhere in the city since every person in the parade seemed to be wearing one or two pairs. [Ed Note — Word!] San Franciscans can’t seem to pass up an any opportunity to dress up and wear a pair of fairy wings. Remember, all we really need is love!

Veep vs. Veep: What NOT to look for tonight

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October 2, 2008
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Sick of the endless hype-y analysis of tonight’s VP debate preparations — the “expectations bar” being spun like a top by all sides? Here’s some things we figure we probably won’t see, although maybe we secretly wish we would.

** Washington University evacuated due to Biden’s overuse of Old Spice

** Palin packs attention-deflecting bomb in up-do, like Deborah Harry’s in Hairspray. Bonus: goes off too early

Spread it

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September 30, 2008
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› superego@sfbg.com

Who’s ready to get tingly with 85,000 freakazoids of affection? Multi-tentacled outdoor rave-a-thon LoveFest quickly approaches, a candy-colored octopus of sonic yummers. Oh, yes, there will be floats — as the parade twirls up Market Street and lands in the throbbing bass vortex of Civic Center Plaza. And in this, its fourth year, the LoveFest takes on a crucial mission: "We do not dance in the streets to escape the reality of our times. We dance to face them as a community, pointing the direction to a better way, set to beats and the full color of our expression," organizers say.

Can’t beat that with a bat. True to its kaleidoscopic intent, there’ll be scads of pre- and after-parties accompanying the 300 DJ–driven event. Below are a few keepers — you can find a ton more at the LoveFest Web site.

QOÖL LOVEFEST KICKOFF The longest-running weekly dance joint in San Francisco, Qoöl, starts the whole shebang with a strong evening dose of the classic San Francisco techno sound — deep but not too deep, clean but humorous, just right for "doing your thing." With DJs Alain Octavo, Syd Gris, Messiah, and Spesh. Wed/1, 5 p.m., $5. 111 Minna, SF. (415) 974-1719, www.qoolsf.com

PENDANA One of the "social action" parts of LoveFest — and a damn good-looking party to boot — benefiting NextAid.org, which helps African kids in need. With DJs Jeno, Lance DeSardi, Alland Byallo, the Staple Crew, and more. Thurs/2, 9:30 p.m., $10 with RSVP to events@nextaid.org. Supperclub, 657 Harrison, SF. (415) 348-0900, www.supperclub.com

DIRTYBIRD LOVEFEST PRE-PARTY Let your freak feathers fly early with SF’s current reigning dance label kings, minimal-goofy Dirty Bird Records, including Claude Von Stroke, Justin Martin, Worthy, and the aptly named Hookerz and Blow. Fri/3, 10 p.m., $20. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 625-8880, www.mezzaninesf.com

GET WEIRD The title says it all for this annual LoveFest event, as DJs Lee Burridge, Tim McCormack, and Mike Khoury get wiggy on the tables for a plethora of costumed weirdos — proud and loud, baby. Fri/3, 10 p.m., $20 advance. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. (415) 626-7001, www.getweirder.com, www.groovetickets.com

INFUSE — LOVE RULES! Underground burner beats behemoth Opel presents an uplifting after-LoveFest must for bouncy tech-funk and breakbeat heads, plus folks who like their bass floor-shattering. Prediction: fire twirlers and stilts, or at least what’s left of them at the end of the day. The UK’s elusive Elite Force make a special appearance. Sat/4, 10 p.m., $15 advance. Temple, 540 Howard, SF. www.templesf.com, www.groovetickets.com

THE MORNING AFTER THE LOVE Hangover, wha? No time for that — chill out on your fancy feet at the EndUp for a whole day of beats and no-end-in-sight freaks, with expansivist techno DJs Nikola Baytalo (one of our best right now), Three, Nikita, and about 50 others. Rave on! Sun/5, 6 a.m., $20 advance, EndUp, 401 Sixth St., SF. (415) 896-1095, www.theendup.com, www.groovetickets.com

Fourth Annual LoveFest begins Sat/4, noon, at Civic Center Plaza, SF. Donation requested. www.sflovefest.org

More Street Threads: What are you wearing?

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September 29, 2008
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Street fashion photog Ariel Soto hits us with a fllow-up to her last Street Threads feature, highlighting fierceness on the concrete catwalk.

Dani, Haight and Clayton

Shannon, Haight and Clayton

Allison and Jess, 19th St. and Stanyan

Clubs: MANQUAKE! pricks up Folsom eve

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September 24, 2008
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Oh, how we love our very own famed gay bathhouse disco revivalist DJ Bus Station John and his decidedly hot man-centric cruisefest parties, thrown in the steamy-smoky spirit of the early-mid ’70s and slightly beyond. (Read my 2005 interview with him here.) So how delightful that the anniversary of MANQUAKE!, his “sordidly savory SF mix of trickin’ chicken, tourist meat, & sexy senior citizens” soiree would fall on Folsom Street Fair eve!

Spirits of the disco: “Karl” and “Phillip” at MANQUAKE

Spirit of the Piers: “Bruce” at MANQUAKE
All masks loving crafted by Bus Station John

Return to the tender coal mining days of gay yore at the Gangway this Saturday night, randy boys and men, and feast your eyes upon the fair bounty lining the Gangway’s man-mask-bedecked walls and X-traordinary vintage visuals curated by der Blaue Reiter — and your ears on the impeccable vinyl selection of Bus Station John featuring “’70s/’80s lost disco, funk, and r&b classics & rarities from the glory days of pre-digital dance music. Festive attire or clothing optional? YOU decide!” Plus: a mystery go-go boy! See your loins a-plenty there.

MANQUAKE! 1-Year Anniversary (Folsom Eve)
Sat/27, 10pm-2am, $5
The Gangway
841 Larkin between Geary and O’Farrell
(415) 776-6828

After the jump — a BONUS history flashback, sent from DJ BSJ, starring Ozzy!

XXX queer cartoonists gear up for Folsom

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September 24, 2008
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Too Hard to Swallow!
Drawing by Justin Hall

Dip your pen in: SF-based queer comics impressario Justin Hall of All Thumbs Press and the Hard to Swallow series (and who keeps chasing down that bitch-queen Glamazonia the Uncanny Super Tranny for us) and Hard to Swallow partner Dave Davenport are popping our corks and celebrating the release of their new sticky-fingered tome Hard to Swallow #4 at Isotope Comics this Friday from 7-11pm — raunchy comics, booze, loose men and brash women, weak-willed sexy cartoonists, and the saucy tunes of DJ Bearzbub, they promise! Not only that, but the new 72-page Hard to Swallow features “skater boy ghosts and pushy werewolves.” I’m drooling already.
Hard to Swallow #4 release
Fri/26, 7pm-11pm, free
Isotope Comics
326 Fell
www.isotopecomics.com

THEN: Catch Justin, Dave, and a slew of other totally NSFW comics artists at the Folsom Street Fair‘s Erotic Artist’s Alley on Sunday on 10th St. between Folsom and Harrison for a truly delectable selection of naughty output. Last year I totally scored this awesome print of a lacrosse team raping each other with their sticks. That was subversive on ’07! What will be subversive this year? I’m guessing Moose forced-fellatio revenge.

Pushy werewolves!
From Hard to Swallow #4

Preacherless choir

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September 24, 2008
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› superego@sfbg.com

REVIEW What’s wrong with anger? Nothing — it’s a perfectly cromulent human emotion. But it sure makes for awful poetry, especially if it’s poured undiluted by humor, hope, or reflection into the "frail vessel" of verse, like hydrochloric acid into Tupperware. The poem may be true, the poem may be honest — but honey, the fumes’ll kill ya. I’ll happily read another righteous anti-Dubya rant, but it better at least make me laugh, dammit.

Which is why I approach a contemporary book like State of the Union: 50 Political Poems (Wave Books) with antsy trepidation. Current events are poetry’s bait and bane — who will write the great 9/11 poem, the great Iraq Occupation poem, the great Bush empire poem? Who cares but the poet who wants to be "great"? Life’s too short for speculative canonical teleology, let alone its correct pronunciation. And then there’s the anger thing. Poems are intrinsically liberal (anybody got a good anti-abortion aubade or Turd Blossom terza rima?). And if there’s one thing we’ve learned in the past few years, it’s that liberals can certainly sputter with outrage. Besides, what poem isn’t political, anyway? Even a Hallmark card’s sappy innards are mawkish missiles aimed for Granny’s good graces.

So hurray for the folks at Wave Books, whose broadminded selections in State, chosen after an open call for submissions, satisfy the need for like-minded connection but don’t stint on the wry entertainment, subtle engagement, or lyrical expression. Included are some comforting big names (John Ashbery, James Tate, Michael Palmer) as well as many lesser-known but perhaps more appropriate ones. I was tickled to read new shit from Matthew Rohrer, whose electric-fork-filled debut, 1991’s A Hummock in the Malookas (W.W. Norton), still weakens my knees, and Guardian contributor Garrett Caples, whose lethally crisp contribution here, For Thom Gunn, links the great local poet’s sad, meth-addled demise to our political system’s own: "Nightmare of beasthood, snorting, how to wake." No slouching toward either Bethlehem or Gomorrah there. Also great is Tao Lin’s stickily perverse "room night," which intrudes on fragments of airy philosophical rumination with obsessive cravings for 80-cent sesame bagels smeared with peanut butter and "beautiful music created by depressed vegans."

Yes, the greatest political hits of the past eight years are here, Guantánamo and all. Lucille Clifton’s quite-famous "september song: a poem in 7 days" is the ultimate "what were you doing when the towers fell" diary, transported somehow into political heresy by her insistent invocations of "apples and honey / apples and honey." Rohrer’s "Elementary Science for Dick Cheney" and Anselm Berrigan’s "The Autobiography of Donald Rumsfeld" uproariously take those curs on directly, while Dan Bogan’s "A Citizen" is a vertiginous inventory of the twilit ironies common to "great" empires. ("There were the usual cabals / careers to be made among court intrigues / as the wheels of dynasty ground slowly through a calendar of ceremonies.")

And my favorite entry in the volume is, indeed, a rant — "Dear Mister President There Was Egg Shell under Your Desk Last Night in My Dream!" by CAConrad — one of those rambling, touching run-ons that never stops for punctuation and shouts, "HEY we’re all going to be dead in a hundred years so let’s shift the pace let’s forget about war let’s pass a Let’s Get Naked and Crazy Holiday" and then proceeds to offer the president "a good massage maybe we could go to the creek and paint secret mud symbols on our naked bodies like I used to do with my first boyfriend what happens after that will be fine you’ll see." The poem offers love, not clogged indignation.

Pwned

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September 24, 2008
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› superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO "I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I like it!" some hot soul shrieked at me outside the club. That’s totally my new self-affirmation T-shirt because, like, what’s with all the negative exacerbations in the world — not just in the shivery politisphere, but in the Zany Land of Nightlifez, too?

Most of my friends got canned from the Transfer so it could redirect itself, and 222 Club got sold so its fabulous owners could move on to bigger things — both unfortunate events that effectively ended a few of my fave parties and a lot of my free drinks. The Attack of Gargantuan Overpriced Ultralounges from Planet Douchebag Airbrushed Clothing continues, with three slated to open downtown by the end of the year. The great Steve Lady, the first Miss Trannyshack, passed away. And who isn’t packing a teeny pink dildo-shaped spritzer of mace in their Chrome clutch these days, what with all the violence after dark?

Life can sometimes seem like it dropped your bag in the toilet or shot your wolf from a plane. But then it’s time to spin around, put one slender hand on your one slender hip, yell "FAIL, motherfucker," and just own that shit like a kicky hairstyle. Give me back my wolf! Get me a new bag! Then call me a cab! I’m going to these parties.

HOT CHIPS

Now that Trannyshack has ended, the race to fill hostess Heklina’s humongous vacuum is on! (Ew.) In primed pole position is belovedly ditzy Cookie Dough, whose stubblebrity-studded drag implosion Monster Show (www.cookievision.tv) now splats its gender-clown intestines against the walls of Underground SF every Monday night. On Sept. 29, Miz Dough will throw a costume party laced with wrong/wrong performances to celebrate four years of … well … something. Who the hell knows what’s gonna happen, but it’ll be wearing fabric that hurts glaciers when it’s burned.

Fri/29, 9 p.m., $5. Underground SF, 424 Haight, SF. (415) 864-7386, www.undergroundsf.com

ALL THE LOVE

Oh yes, LoveFest comes gloriously upon us Oct. 4 (www.sflovefest.org), but there’ll be some real love going down at Supperclub the Thursday beforehand, when LoveFest pre-party Pendana — Swahili for "to love one another," duh — brings together a massive roster of well-known local DJs to benefit NextAid (www.nextaid.org), an LA joint that helps out African kids. Jenö from Back2Back, Kontrol’s Alland Byallo, Fil Latorre and Javaight from Staple, and a host of others will provide some juicy tech-house tunes. You bring the love and ducats.

Oct. 2, 9:30 p.m., $10 with RSVP to events@nextaid.org. Supperclub, 657 Harrison, SF. (415) 348-0900, www.supperclub.com

KUDUROS TO YOU

Last week in this very publication I wrote a sorta know-it-all article about the underground musical movements that have taken over US dance floors — but I must still be rolling down from that magic cap I chewed in ’02 since I forgot to mention the whole baile funk/electro-cumbia/digi-samba thing. Which is sad, because I adore it. Now it’s time to add kuduro — a faster, blippier, more air-horny version of baile funk originating in Angola — to the go-go global genre stew, as nuevo Latino electro party Tormenta Tropical teams up with disco sweethearts Body Heat to host a live blast from floor-thumping Portuguese kuduro kings Buraka Som Sistema (www.myspace.com/burakasomsistema). Also on tap: local fave-ravers Lemonade, who bring a brainy, rocky Brazilian twist to the bass bins. Muito louco!

Oct. 3, 10 p.m., $10. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. (415) 552-7788, www.elbo.com

Clubs: Lazer Sword gets ripped, still blappy

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September 23, 2008
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Photo by Jordan Fraker

First the good news: Lazer Sword, the local loco duo of robo-crunk remix actionists that blow out my speakers rightly, have just released the mixtape of the year, in my book. It’s called Blap to the Future. Check it out and gleam dizzy (download). Srsly, my laptop is xplodin’ with this shit. Listen and believe. You can find out more about the mix on the Lazer Sword MySpace blog.

Now the bad news (read the fine print):

From Lazer Sword: SO YES FRIENDS IT’S TRUE. LANDO KAL, 1/2 OF LAZER SWORD, GOT HIS APPLE MACBOOK PRO LAPTOP STOLEN OUT OF HIS HANDS AT GUNPOINT IN FRONT OF A CLUB BEFORE A LS SET WEDNESDAY, 8/27/08.

Mum’s the word on which club — but look, we’re gonna have a party and reimburse the shit. Hit up fancy Ambassador this Thursday for an all-star lineup of glitch-hop, electro disco, and other adventurous heads, in conjunction with promoters Hoodies and Heels, for a mind-bending night that gives back.

Lazer Sword Benefit
Thurs/25, 10pm-2am, Free but donate at the door
Ambassador
673 Geary Street
More info here

PS — oh hey, speaking of White Girl Lust, there’s a ripping disco-dive brand new mix up on xlr8r that features their new label Solid Bump.

Street Threads: What the heck are you wearing?

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September 23, 2008
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By Ariel Soto

Maya, Haight and Ashbury

Is anyone else addicted to the Sartorialist? The photographer of that blog goes around New York and Europe capturing the young and beautiful as they strut their stylish threads down the street. (Much like the late, lamented Street Fancy did here.) I decided to hit the pavement and do some street fashion scouting of my own and found that San Francisco has many of its very own fashion forward citizens … and fashionable visitors as well.

Sho, Union Square

David, Powell and Bush

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