Marke B. Archives — Page 40 of 55 — San Francisco Bay Guardian Archive 1966

Gray Area Gallery 2.0

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April 21, 2008

By Vanessa Carr

Aaron Koblin’s Ten Thousand Cents

It’s hard to believe that San Francisco, the very birthplace of Web 2.0, has lacked a gallery space dedicated to new interactive media arts – until now.

Tomorrow, Gray Area Gallery, whose space closed last year, celebrates the launch of what is, in effect, its 2.0 rebirth – Gray Area Beacon (GAB) – which claims to be the first San Francisco gallery space to focus exclusively on the intersection of art and technology.

“This is the moment in time for the Bay Area to celebrate and appreciate technology-based art,” said GAB co-founder Josette Melchor. “[GAB] is trying to provide a home for exhibits, ideas, and interaction.”

GAB’s launch party on Tuesday, 4/22, coincides with the first day of the Web 2.0 Expo and features four pieces by local artist Aaron Koblin in his first ever San Francisco show.

Aaron Kiblin’s New York Talk Exchange

Recently featured in Wired Magazine and the New York MoMA, Koblin’s work creates visualizations of large datasets and human systems that explore some very Web 2.0 themes:digital labor marketplaces, online collaborations, and global communications.

“I thought [Koblin] was perfect because of [his] Sheep Market and Ten Thousand Cents pieces,” Melchor told the Guardian. “He’s used online means to get people to collaborate to create a large scale installation.”

Koblin’s Sheep Market features 10,000 sheep drawn by online “workers” from around world, each of whom were paid two cents to draw “a sheep facing left” using the Amazon Mechanical Turk marketplace.

Similarly, Ten Thousand Cents, Koblin’s collaboration with artist Takashi Kawashima, is a digital representation of a one-hundred dollar bill made up of one thousand tiny squares reproduced by anonymous online laborers who worked without knowledge of the overall picture. Each worker was paid one penny for his or her work, which amounted to $100 in total.

Violet Blue vs. Violet Blue

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April 21, 2008

28

By Justin Juul

I totally got hoodwinked.

Two years ago, I bought expensive tickets to the 2006 Exotic Erotic Expo because the flyer for the event advertised a live appearance by Violet Blue, who is one of my favorite sex writers, and who I’d wanted to meet for a very long time. I never got to meet her though. Turns out there’s a porn star also named Violet Blue, and she was the one appearing. So, instead of schmoozing with a journalist, I spent my time at the expo drinking cheap beer and stalking a porn star. Snore.

The real Violet Blue

Naturally Violet Blue the writer is pretty pissed about this kind of mix up — she claims the fake Violet Blue is using her name to attract a bigger following — and the name feud has finally made it to the courthouse. (Full disclosure: I’m a witness for the writer’s side – my story was a direct catalyst for the suit.) It seems after our missed encounter, the real Violet Blue decided she’d had enough and started looking into patent laws and ways to challenge the star of Who Violet Blew, Planet of the Gapes 4, and Beauty and the Bitch. The initial court proceedings went down last October, but the case is far from over. The porn star has been quite successful under her moniker – winning multiple AVN awards, getting countless roles, and even hosting her own radio show — and she doesn’t want to give the name up (she “officially” changed it to Violetta Blue, but continues to use the original name whenever she appears at events or stars in videos).

The other Violet Blue (not posing with the author!)

What’s the big deal, you ask? Both of these women are involved in porn aren’t they?

Well, yes and no. The writer, whose real name actually is Violet Blue, has dedicated her entire life to showing the good side of the sex industry, whereas the other Violet Blue is just a plain ol’ sex worker. In her award winning blog, www.tinynibbles.com, and in her books, the real Violet Blue tries to show that an obsession with sex is totally natural and that “sex people” can be funny, smart, technologically advanced, artistically inclined, and full of unique ideas. She tours the world holding sex seminars on college campuses and even makes appearances on popular television shows to champion her conviction that any sex is good sex as long as it’s safe and consensual. She also believes that, contrary to popular belief, women like to watch pornography as much as men. Good deal.

But the issue isn’t about whether or not Violet Blue the imposter should be doing porn or whether or not she’s a good role model. The issue is that the real Violet Blue is constantly being mistaken for a so-so porn star and it’s fucking with her career. She can’t even win national awards, like Forbes’ Top 25 Web Celebs of 2007 (in which she won 25th place as the best pornstar/blogger) or get invited to conventions without someone thinking she does double anal for extra cash when her book sales are down. Not that that’s bad in itself, but come on. I’d be pretty pissed as well. Especially about Planet of the Gapes 4.

Ghostride the filmstrip, thizzy

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April 21, 2008

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By Justin Juul

Perhaps inevitably, long-awaited doc Ghostride The Whip: The Story of The Hyphy Movement screens this Thursday, April 24th at UC Berkeley. (It’ll be available on DVD this July after it makes some rounds. )

At first glance, it’s a movie about riding around on top of and outside your car while listening to goofy music, dropping e, and acting tough (duh). I was all set to write about how tired the film sounds and how played out the ghostriding phenomenon is, but I decided to do some research before opening my big mouth.

And now, well, what can I say? After spending an hour on Ghostride The Whip director DJ Vlad’s MySpace, I have become a full-blown fan. I still think ghostriding is ridiculous, and I can’t say I like hyphy music (or wasting gas), but holy shit, have you seen all the video tributes this Bay Area ghetto pastime has spawned? Maybe this is a perfect time to immortalize this movement onscreen. Here are a few of my favorites:

Ghostride the Granny

Extreme Ghostride!!!

Sports: Tim Lincecum, super freak

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April 21, 2008

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By A.J. Hayes

With his shaggy blue-black hair, boyish good looks and slight frame, the Giants pitcher Tim Lincecum looks as if he stepped out of an audition for American Idol. He could also pass as a record store clerk, a college student or a wine steward.

The point is, Lincecum (he’s listed at 5-foot-11, 170 pounds, but appears to be smaller) looks as if he could do anything for a living except play major league baseball.

But not only does the Bellevue, Washington native draw a nice check every two weeks from the Giants, the 23-year-old has quickly become the ace of San Francisco’s staff and arguably most exciting hurler to matriculate through the orange & black’s farm system since John “The Count” Monetfusco back in 1975.

Some in the media have nicknamed Lincecum, “The Franchise.” We prefer (with apologies to Rick James) “Super Freak.”

How else would you describe an average-sized dude expelling hardballs as if there’s a howitzer attached to his right side? Whether it’s from the torque generated from his “windmill” delivery or just unexplainable natural ability, Lincecum (lin-suh-COME) brings his pitches with markedly abnormal velocity.

That power pitching led to 150 strikeouts in 2007 over just 90 innings – tops among all rookies. Two seasons after he was selected as the 10th overall selection in the 2006 amateur draft, Lincecum has already lapped every player selected ahead of him, including No. 1 pick Luke Hochevar of Kansas City, who was bombed last weekend in Oakland, a day after Lincecum tossed seven shutout frames in a 3-0 Giants win at St. Louis.

With the victory, Lincecum solidified his position as the Giants “stopper,” i.e. the pitcher you turn when you absolutely need a win or to halt a losing streak.

Lincecum has become even more of a complete pitcher this season. In 2007, the righty authored a 7-5 record and 4.00 ERA with basically a dazzling fastball and an overhand curve. This season he’s introduced a darting slider and criminal change-up to his repertoire.

All that makes the recent news that the Giants brain-trust is seriously contemplating a move to an unheard of six-man starting rotation all that more disheartening.

Hot like Neu Wave Feminism

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April 18, 2008

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At the Femina Potens gallery, oil painter Alicia DeBrincat, photographer Rocksusto, and paper cut artist Lex McQuilkin take a fresh look at gender, sexuality, societal expectations and ethics in Neu Wave Feminism, a group show that opened April 5.

DeBrincat’s “Cultural Corset” series examines how women’s identities and societal expectations play out on the terrain of the body. She is interested in how American culture is simultaneously obsessed with the female body and repulsed by its natural form.

Her huge oil paintings portray female nudes with a stunning realism – breasts small and large, thighs puckered with cellulite, rounded bellies.

“The paint is applied with an attention to anatomical detail that both celebrates women’s bodies and references the leering voyeurism and minutely critical gaze that the female body encounters,” she writes in her artist statement.

Photographer Rocksuto has also taken a thematic approach to her work. In 2007, she embarked on A Photo a Day project, which explored a range of themes, such as population, foreclosures, sexual ethics, trust fund nihilism, and chickens.

This year, she’s embarked on A Photo a Month project, where she’s limited her thematic exploration to gender roles, sexual ethics, and religion.

Lex McQuilkin’s swirling, delicate paper cuts explore gender and masculinity from queer perspective. Her latest series, Good Old Boys, explores the precariousness of masculinity and its portrayal.

Gender and sexuality — not tired!

Neu Wave Feminism
April 5 – 27, 2008
Gallery hours: Thurs-Sun, 12-6 p.m.
Femina Potens Gallery
2199 Market, SF
415-864-1558

Queer Prom, darlings

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April 17, 2008

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Who needs “Carrie” when you’ve got Mary? Those fabulously scandalous Sisters of Perpetual indulgence are at it again, hosting a Queer Prom this Sat/19 to raise funds to combat the proposed LBAM aerial spraying. Theme: Leather and Lace. Location: San Francisco’s wackiest techno leather “ball” room (get it?), the Powerhouse. Chaperones: Porn stars. Dress code: No one will remain clothed for long, sweetie, it’s a Queer Prom duh.

Hell yes the punch will be spiked

Queer Prom: Leather and Lace
Sat/19, 9pm-Midnite, $5-15 sliding scale
The Powerhouse
1347 Folsom
www.powerhouse-sf.com

Sock that grape away, in style

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April 17, 2008

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By Ailene Sankur

Between the two of them, Brian McGonigle and Paolo Mancini have more than 30 years of experience in the wine industry. They’ve seen their share of ways to taste, pair, collect, catalog and, of course, imbibe. They’ve seen the division between the rarefied world of the “serious” wine collector and the intimidating nature of crossing that schism as a new wine collector.

And they wanted to close that schism, shift the paradigm of polarized wine culture: you either collect hundred-dollar bottles of wine or only buy what’s on sale at Trader Joe’s. Hence their joint project: the San Francisco Wine Center (SFWC), a wine storage facility with two rooms to be used for wine events and classes, as well as for members to just hang out and crack open a bottle.

Wine storage facilities are, typically, for the more serious collector, the ones that Brian McGonigle, co-owner of the SFWC, says “collect only expensive cult Napa Cab, first growth Bordeaux and Grand Cru Burgundy.” Facilities are devoted to the idea of wine as investment—a temperature and humidity controlled place to drop off wines to ensure that they’ll develop correctly. The clinical sterility is reminiscent of a laboratory, while the emphasis on wine as horded possession is evocative of a bank, a place to drop off an asset and watch it grow, untouched.

McGonigle and Mancini want the SFWC to be more wine community than wine depository. McGonigle says, “We want members to think of it as a private wine club that they can enjoy regularly, attending events or just stopping in to see what new wines we have open at the end of the day. When we looked at the existing providers of storage services we realized that no one was offering these types of associated services and amenities and it just seemed natural to us.”

The Reserve Room

Brew Holster Cult: Sling ’em!

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April 17, 2008

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By Justin Juul

Snazzy!

My birthday’s coming up in May, so for all of my fans out there, here’s what you should get me: A Brew Holster. And don’t just get one for me. Get one for yourself too. Just imagine all the BBQ’s you’ll be attending this spring and summer. Don’t you want to be the freshest dude/chick in the park? Yes you do. But what exactly is a Brew Holster you ask. It’s a gun sling for beer, but the awesomeness doesn’t stop there. Brew Holsters are made by two members of SF’s very own all-girl AC/DC tribute band, AC/DShe, so they’re extra-extra cool.

Nici and Sara, the guitarist and bassist from Ac/DShe, came up with the idea when they realized that double-fisting cheap beer, while simultaneously jammin’ out with their clams out, was not as great as it sounded. Following a few close calls with drenched t-shirts and wet amps, the girls hit their backyard chop shop and The Brew Holster Cult was born. All you need to do to join the cult is to buy one of the things, so go visit their website and prepare yourself for the biggest balls of them all: backyard BBQ’s, outdoor concerts, and Bay to Breakers. Springtime in SF just got a whole lot cooler.

Get ’em here, suds-slingers: www.brewholstercult.com

Newsom’s wind shifts Obamaward?

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April 17, 2008

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This morning I attended the grand opening ceremony of the pretty incredible-looking Hotel Essex, an 84-unit rehab completed by Community Housing Partnership and Mercy Housing that now houses 84 formerly homeless people in their own apartments (complete with kitchenettes!), with on-site counselling, recovery, and job-training services available. (Full disclosure: My bf works for CHP and helped put this all together.)

The Essex was rehabbed with $22+ million dollars of city, state, and federal grants and loans — $1.1 million of which was federal, and very grudgingly contributed by an eviscerated HUD at the behest of Nancy Pelosi, who apparently can actually get some things done. Good for her!

This is the first homeless housing project completed under Mayor Gavin Newsom’s administration (stuff takes time, folks) and naturally Newsie was there himself to make some remarks. I must say, despite his odious record on homelessness, Gavin was actually quite gracious to all involved and even acknowledged that he had been on the wrong side of many of the disagreements he’d with the progenitors of the project. But, of course, he’s charming like that.

And then came a very weird moment. With cautious enunciation and in the wake the whole Obama-elitism-San Francisco-oh my! panic, Newsom, a supposedly staunch Hillary supporter, said:

“We’re turning this problem around — or, as Barack Obama says: We’re turning the page, bringing real change — on homelessness.”

Hmm. Quoting Obama, really? Right now? Either this was a very misguided attempt to pull a Hillary and tar Obama with any reference to scandal possible — keeping the smear ball in play, as it were — or perhaps Mr. Newsom knows something we don’t about the way the superdelegate winds are blowing, and is waving around a little penance. Either way, many confused looks were shot across the room.

Back to the actual issue at hand: Darryl, one of the Essex’s residents, who unfortunately spoke last, well after Newsom had slipped out the back, was the most eloquent speaker, talking about how the Essex was giving him and others a chance at real community and about the power of a little faith and empowerment to help change lives.

C.W. Nevius was not present.

Sheik it

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April 15, 2008

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How much hot queer Arab on the dance floor can you handle? If you’re dating me, it better be a lot.

Others can test their capacity for swivel-hipped, uluutf8g cuties this Saturday at what more sensationalist club critics might dub a "Battle of the Belly Dancers." Two gay-oriented Middle Eastern–themed parties, Bibi and Club La Zeez, butt bejeweled foreheads in different venues — on the first night of Passover, no less. But that’s a different geopolitical kettle of couscous.

Hitting up both events would be ideal, since each is put on by folks of SWANA (Southwest Asian–Northern African) descent; pumps out zills-tinkling contemporary and traditional Persian, Arabic, Latin, and South Asian floor bangers; and serves an underrepresented audience hungry for connection in these unfashionably volatile times. If you are forced to choose, I recommend Bibi. La Zeez, a monthly launched in March at Club Eight by Los Angeles playwright Saleem, is good fun but gives off a touristy vibe — "Magic Carpet" lounge, really? It also caters to a mostly mainstream gay male crowd and uses the word exotic in its press materials. Tacky.

Bibi, on the other many-ringed hand, is a quarterly charitable grassroots affair that has delighted queers of all genders for a year now and is hosted by local playboys Rostam and J. Maximilian. This time around, the party’s at Six and called Bibi Chic, so dress yourself fancy and free. Proceeds go to six queer Middle Eastern foundations, including Iraqi LGBT; IRQO in Iran; and Beirut’s fabulous new LGBT center, Helem. DJs Emancipacion, Masood, and Josh Cheon will throw down beats and performance artist Cherry Gallete and belly dancer Amira will dazzle the crowd.

And what about us queer Arab Americans who’ll be sitting down to Passover seder that evening with our gorgeous Jewish boyfriends? "Both of you come afterward! Bring cookies!" Rostam entreated me over the phone. "There’s room on our dance floor for everyone."

BIBI CHIC

Sat/19, 10 p.m., $15.

Six

60 Sixth St., SF

(415) 863-1221

www.clubsix1.com, www.myspace.com/bibisf

CLUB LA ZEEZ

Sat/19, 9 p.m.–2 a.m., $12–$15

Club Eight

1151 Folsom, SF

(415) 431-1151

www.eightsf.com

Fool’s Gold vs. Dim Mak

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April 15, 2008

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PREVIEW Here’s how the grumpy jockey wonkette in me kinda wishes the Fool’s Gold vs. Dim Mak record label showdown goes down. In this corner: Montreal vinyl cut-up whiz and Fool’s Gold cofounder A-Trak, winner of the 1997 DMC World DJ Championship at 15 and prime mover of the ’90s turntablism movement. In that corner: Dim Mak owner Steve Aoki, a self-proclaimed "kid millionaire party king" who barely touches vinyl, inspires an entire Internet hatrix due to his immense popularity on the neon indie/cheap sunglasses scene, and often raises the question, if a DJ can’t mix for shit but the party still goes off, does it matter?

Ding! We have a winner. Sorry, Aoki, but Monsieur A-Trak’s all up in your laptop ass like the A in Canada. Everybody switch back to vinyl.

But I gotta be fair. After years of relentless touring, Aoki’s gone easier on the Human League sing-alongs and Michael Jackson breakdowns and has pepped up his sets with some much-needed prickly subversion. Meanwhile, A-Trak has been warming up crowds for Kanye West by backspinning Justin Timberlake. Now is it an even playing field? We’ll see on Saturday, when both take the stage with wacky Sammy Bananas, Alameda’s Trackademicks, and electro-hopper Sinden.

A-TRAK AND STEVE AOKI With Sammy Bananas, Trackademicks, and Sinden. Sat/19, 10 p.m.–4 a.m., $15–$20. 103 Harriet, SF. www.blasthaus.com

From bar to book: Life Long Press turns backroom literary readings into published work

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April 14, 2008

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By Ailene Sankur

Valyntina Grenier is no stranger to poetry. By her undergrad senior year at U.C. Berkeley, she had already put together two chapbooks and now she’s in the second year of an M.F.A. in Poetry at St. Mary’s College of California.

She is also no stranger to bars: she works as a bartender at Lanesplitter () in Oakland. And it was her friendship with two other East Bay bartenders on which she built her Back Room Live (www.lifelongpress.blogspot.com) reading series. Most people go to bars to have mindless fun, relax, get wasted; Valyntina used them as a vehicle for “…a polyphony of voices, united by the desire to make art, enjoy language, and drink a pint or two.”

First, Sheila from the wonderful Hotsy Totsy Club in Albany let Valyntina read the poetry from her first chapbook. (Incidentally, the Hotsy Totsy Club, in a not particularly trendy East Bay neighborhood, wins the dive bar competition against San Francisco anyday.) The readings were well-received by the bar crowd. After those experiences, she toyed with the idea of doing another reading series at a bar. After befriending Tony, the bartender at McNally’s Irish Pub in Oakland, she asked if she could do a reading series there. He agreed, and after it proved successful Back Room Live became a monthly event—on the last Saturday of each month.

Valyntina, now in her M.F.A. program, decided to bring together others from the creative writing masters program — both students and faculty — as well as other Bay Area poets and authors.

Literary readings have long been thought of as the property of dim bookstores, mousy clerks shakily whispering introductions to authors, bad wine, and an intellectual elitist. With the Back Room Live series,Valyntina wanted to get away from that. She says, “My initial impetus was the sense that if you’re not in academia, and even sometimes if you are, you can feel left out of literary events. So I thought by bringing it to the bar, people would be engaged in it. Really just to broaden the community, get different genres of writers together and people together who wouldn’t necessarily go to hear writers…”

The reading series became so popular Valyntina decided to publish a Back Room Live Reading Series magazine, sold online and at Diesel Books, Book Zoo, and Pegasus (all in Oakland). The magazine is published through Valyntina’s other venture: Life Long Press Publishing.

Taxes — with a bang!

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April 11, 2008

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By Justin Juul

Tax season is here, and math is hard. That’s why you need to get on the Math Bus.

PS — If you don’t know what internet phenomenon this is spoofing, you really need to watch more porn.

Mike Lacey = Marge Schott?

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April 11, 2008

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We don’t want to drag all this us vs. them stuff up again — especially since, like, we won — but something uncanny has occurred. Village Voice Media honcho/bully Mike Lacey has been in some mighty hot water since he chose to use the “n-word” in a speech to a roomful of journalists on the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s assassination. (Watch the video!).

Perhaps worst of all, he was trying to be cool.

That immediately put us in mind of a similar gaffe by former Cincinnati Reds owner Marge Schott, one which lead to her eventual downfall. So, like the Internet-savvy alt.weekly we are, we dialed up the Intertubez — and look!

MUG SHOT

MARGE SCHOTT

Like we said, uncanny.

Buggin’ in the Attic with DJ Primo

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April 11, 2008

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Justin Juul caught up with DJ Primo , of Attic, Ferrari, West Add Radio, Knockout, and Mods vs. Rockers fame – and lived to tell the tale.

I met Primo a couple of years ago when we were both waiting tables at a small restaurant near The Castro. I resented the job because I knew that every hour I spent working meant an equal amount of time away from writing. As a result, I really sucked. I was always late and cranky and tired and I had a really hard time being nice to customers. Primo seemed to be going through the same stuff. He tried to act happy, but he couldn’t hide his fatigue or general loathing for the work, and it was obvious he’d rather be spinning records or sleeping. It was no surprise, then, that neither of us lasted more than three months.

I forgot about the dude for a while until I noticed him spinning records at The Attic on 24th and Mission one night. Then I started bumping into him everywhere I went. The last time it happened, we sat in the park for an hour and talked about obscure soul music, the mod scene, graffiti, and hard times. Check it out.

Primo: Whatcha reading there?

SFBG: Oh it’s the new Juxtapoz, I think I stole it from the gym last week. Pretty cool shit in here, sometimes.

Primo: Yeah, the dude who did the cover, Parra, I like his stuff. It’s like French Old School, graffiti-based stuff, taken from weird pop and mod art, with this strange New York influence. It kinda reminds me of this writer named REES. Just like hand drawn letters with this weird, like, metaphysical, “fuck-you,” Daffy Duckness to them.

Fong: False alarm on torch

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April 10, 2008

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By Emma Lierley

At a press conference Thursday afternoon, Chief of Police Heather Fong addressed the city’s decision to change the Olympic Torch route, claiming that it was a spontaneous decision and that there was no pre-planned contingency.

Fong said that SFPD officers had been monitoring the situation along The Embarcadero since 8am Wednesday morning and as more and more people showed up, and as “groups of opposing views started verbally confronting each other” the higher-ups began contemplating a change in route.

Stating that an incident at Bryant and Embarcadero around 12:30, in which a charter bus “moving certain [Olympic] items” was stopped by “a very large group” of protestors, influenced the decision to change to route. According to Fong, a false report came through that the bus had run over protestors, which was a major factor to change the route.

“I saw the crowd, I saw the bus, and at that point we started to move away from the Embarcadero,” Fong said.

However, this reporter observed that from 12:30 until 1pm, there were no more than twenty peaceful protestors who had laid themselves in front of the bus and covered themselves with Tibetan flags, with only a line of four cops protecting it. By 1:20, all protestors around the bus were gone.

Fong also said that large groups of people along The Embarcadero who were unwilling to move when told by police influenced the decision to change the route as well.

Despite reports that demonstrations along the planned route were by and large peaceful, Fong stated that it was “very clear there was no way to safely go down Embarcadero.”

She estimated that roughly 500 to 600 SFPD officers were called out, together with 350 officers from other departments around the Bay area, and representatives from federal agencies as well.

There were five arrests made yesterday, all settled in citations, and no injuries.

Video: The great torch chase

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April 10, 2008

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Video journalists Rhyen Coombs and Lisa Pickoff-White report from yesterday’s Olympic torch rally and protest on participants’ disappointment at the flame’s last minute route change:

(For pics of the protest, click here. For a video slideshow of Tuesday’s Tibet vigil, click here.)

Here’s Guardian reporter Emma Lierley’s take on yesterday’s events:

The great torch chase

The running of the Olympic torch yesterday left many hundreds of people pissed because, well, they never saw it. If you were like me, however, and came equipped with a bicycle and the wherewithal to chase the damned thing all over the city, then it became a rousing, and rather difficult, game of hide-and-go-seek.

For the majority of the crowd, that was not an option. In the hours leading up to the planned torch run, the scene along the Embarcadero was entirely peaceful. At noon, Pier 48 held rows of Chinese men and women practicing the drum rhythms that would play to honor the torch as it came past. Chinese flags fluttered in the Bay breeze, children ran and laughed, and the crowd was held back from the torch route by three layers of fencing.

Down the line, protesting blocks formed, and pro-Tibetan protesters stopped a bus at Bryant and Embarcadero around 12:30 PM. Roughly twenty people laid down in front of a charter bus, covered themselves with Tibetan flags, and covered the front of the bus with “Save Tibet” stickers. A line of four police officers guarded the bus, but once again, it was a family affair, and little kids ran around calling for a free Tibet along with the adults.

Chinese flags mingled with Tibetan flags, and each group of supporters or protestors tried to over-shout the other one, but the scene was relatively tame. The rest of Embarcadero was lined with similar crowds, some holding Chinese flags, some holding pro-Tibet signs, and some just eating their lunch, waiting for the event to start.

Back at the corner of 3rd and Embarcadero around 1:30, and I heard the angriest words of the day coming from an exasperated elderly woman who was militantly holding her spot on the corner, facing the 3rd street Bridge.

“Hey, asshole, you need to keep moving. Some of us have been here for two hours,” she said to those who tried to stop in front of her, potentially blocking her view.

Pics: Torch protest and rally

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April 9, 2008

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Guardian photographer and writer Charles Russo sent over these pics of this afternoon’s Olympic torch protests and rallies:

Tibetan-born Lobsang Lama (center left) traveled from his home in Portland, Oregon to protest China’s human rights violations in Tibet and its hosting of the 2008 Olympics.

Tibetan Tagudh Youndoung engages in debate with a pro-Chinese supporter along the Embarcadero while waiting for the Olympic Torch procession.

After the huge crowds outside the Ferry Building and Justin Herman Plaza realized the Olympic Torch route had changed, the previously cordoned-off Embarcadero became a logjam of confrontations between Tibetan and Chinese supporters.

A pro-China demonstrator seeks to keep a torn Chinese flag aloft after it had been ripped by Tibetan activists.

Jack Kornfield (right with sign) and Ashin Nanikabhivamsa led a huge peace walk of Burmese monks and activists across the Golden Gate Bridge in solidarity with Tibetan protestors.

Tibet vigil: Audio and pics

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April 9, 2008

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Video photojournalist Ariel Soto reports from Tuesday’s Tibet vigil with Archbishop Desmond Tutu (he’s busy!) and Sup. Chris Daly:

Tutu feted by IGLHRC

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April 9, 2008

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By Michael Leonard

Archbishop Desmond Tutu offered his sincerest thanks and gratitude on Tuesday night to the audience in Grace Cathedral as he closed a moving acceptance speech, upon receiving the OUTSPOKEN Award from the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission (ILGHRC).

Tutu b.jpg
All pics by Michael Leonard

Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Tutu, 76, was grateful not only for the award, he said, but also the continuous support and allegiance that lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual, and intersex persons offer to oppressed communities around the globe. “Thank you for making the world a better place,” he said.

The theme of the evening was “A Celebration of Courage.” Tutu is most definitely a living example of fearlessness, given his noted stand against apartheid in his native South Africa, as well as his outspoken support of female, as well as gay and lesbian, ordination in the Episcopal Church, a topic that has threatened a schism in that denomination. His fight against homophobia and sexual exclusivity in religion earned him the honors on this particular occasion.

“How sad, how tragic, that the Church be so concerned with this issue when God’s children all the world over are suffering,” Tutu said. “I ask for your forgiveness for the way the Church has ostracized you.”

Tutu summed up his activist persona in a statement consistent with the humorous and humble manner with which he charmed and captivated the large crowd throughout his 20-minute speech.

“I wish many times that I would or could’ve shut up. But, I could just as well try not to breath… I cannot be but as God made me.”

Metamorphenomenal

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April 9, 2008

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› superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Positivity — can we get some, please? Sure. Zing! Spring’s come bounding from its musty, dusty closet like a newly out Floridian, little rainbow fanny pack ablaze, itchy pink nipple rings jingling. Poor green thing! Isn’t it up to us to lead her, tripping and grinning, into the limelight fantastica? Aren’t we already there? Change, unlike Aqua Net and Paco Rabanne, is in the air. The clubs, they’ve gone azalea-crazy, bursting with neon irises and tuneful fuchsia streaks. Cocktails mysteriously grow stronger in our hands. And parties, parties everywhere — there’s far too much to do right now. Hell, my nightlife Blackberry just exploded all over my fresh electric Onitsuka Tiger shoes.

Anybody here got a Wet Ones?

"We’re spinning in the pyramid of life / As day turns to night," goes a latest wriggly dance-floor burner. "I wish the stars could shine now / For they are closer / They are near," goes another. "Let’s make out!" goes a third. Sex, stars, spinning, and you — sounds like a few times I’d love to have. How ’bout we do the bunny hop and rock our burgundy hair at the following affairs? Oh, and bring that spring girl, too. There’s always room for one more in the back.

WELCOME TO PARADISE

What do you do when you get too famous? Besides wipe up dog shit with your borrowed Chanel? How ’bout change your name and make a record? I sincerely hope you’ve made it at least once to two of the most regularly orgiastic parties in the city: Frisco Disco and Blow Up. If you have, then you’re intimately familiar with the semi-nude gymnastics, lubed-up disco-house-electro jams, and jailbait fanbase of one DJ Jefrodesiac, our fair burg’s current reigning turntable sex god.

I may just win that tiara back, though, because Jefrodesiac is dead. Metaphorically. Witness the birth of Jeffrey Paradise, his latest incarnation, who’s about to release a new EP on PrinceHouse Records and make us all update our contacts. He’ll be debuting this next evolution at Blow Up on Friday, April 11, which is also, somewhat confusingly, his birthday bash. Because one personality is never enough!

WILL THEY SERVE COSMOS?

I’m not sure how I feel about the space program, but hey, if the nearby NASA Ames Research Center and something rather ominously called the Space Generation Advisory Council want to cohost a big rave at Moffett Field, presenting forward-minded DJs like Amon Tobin, John Tejada, Dr. Toast, and Tycho, well, beam me up (snort). I’m talking about Yuri’s Night, an astro-fantastical, techno-futuristical anniversary celebration of Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin’s historic first flight into space in 1961. Yuri’s Night, Saturday, April 12, is being feted this year with 153 parties in 46 countries on goddess-knows-how-many giant-screen satellite feeds, so make sure your outfit is tight. Also on the blast-off tap: a huge technology fair with zippy visual installations and electronic doodad demonstrations galore. Pack your sonic screwdriver.

BIGGER BOOTY

Srsly, I wept when longtime San Francisco mainstay Fag Fridays ended in February — and not just because my Moisture Wear wasn’t quite so hypoallergenic after all. The gay and their ilk really lost something when the party shut down after 12 years, not least of all a soulful house crashpad in the weekend’s early afterhours.

No more tears, though. "Girl, we couldn’t wait to have a Friday off!" David Peterson, one half of Fag promoters Big Booty, exuberantly told me. Big Booty’s certainly taking advantage of its free time. Peterson’s Booty partner, Jose Mineros, just launched a bouncy house Saturday weekly, Collide, at the fab Club 222 (www.myspace.com/222hyde). Fag Fridays will make a special return at Mighty for Pride. And biggest of all, Big Booty just launched a new dance-music label, Thread Recordings. They’ll be toasting Thread’s first release, "The Rhythm" by DJ David Harness, with a deep and thrilling party at luminous megaclub Temple, featuring Harness and legendary NYC DJ Tedd Patterson. Boys keep swinging.

BLOW UP

With Jeffrey Paradise

Fri/11, 10 p.m.–2 a.m., $10

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com

www.myspace.com/blow_up_415

YURI’S NIGHT

Sat/12, 2 p.m.–2 a.m., $40–$50

NASA Ames Research Center

Moffett Field, Mountain View

www.ynba.org

THREAD RECORD RELEASE PARTY

With Tedd Patterson and David Harness

April 19, 10 p.m.–4 a.m., $20

Temple

540 Howard, SF

(415) 572-1466

www.templesf.com

Yo shred dawgs: Go home!

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April 8, 2008

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By Justin Juul

So I went to go check out the new skatepark at Potrero Del Sol last week and here’s what happened.

The security guard/construction worker did not like me.

“It’s fucking retarded dude, cause I’m a fuckin’ skater too,” he said. “But I let a couple of you little bastards through the fence last weekend and I lost half my ass for it. So go home. You can’t fucking skate here.” It was a hard thing to hear at 8:30 in the morning on a bright and sunny Tuesday, especially since I’d been dreaming about skating the new park since they started building the damn thing a year ago and I’d just gotten word that it was done. I had gathered up my board and set out my half-cabs the night before in anticipation of a solo morning session and now this asshole construction worker was harshing my mellow. But I wasn’t trying to hear it.

“What’s the big deal man?” I said. “The shit’s finished. I can see it. Can’t you just, like, look the other way and let me fuck around for a minute.” The construction worker’s eyes filled with rage as he stepped closer and grabbed hold of the chain link fence that was separating us, lifting his arm to expose some fresh ink: a prison-issue sketch of a sawed-off shotgun. I was angry about the fence at first, but now I was glad it was there. I did not want to fuck with this dude. “Listen, man.” He said. “I fucking live here [wtf] and nobody’s gonna skate this shit until July fourth. Tell all your punk-ass little friends it’s a fucking no go! I know it’s fucking retarded, but I ain’t losing my job just so you fuckers can skate.”

So there you have it. I know it’s tempting, especially for older skaters like me who don’t want to get arrested in the streets anymore, but unless you want to go toe to toe with the burliest tattooed skater/construction dude on the planet, I suggest you hold off for a while. The park’s finished and it looks pretty sick, but the grand opening isn’t until the fourth of July And. That’s. Fucking. That.

Clubs: Anavan sans Ativan

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April 7, 2008

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Holy Spazmosis!. Jumpy young rockers Anavan drove up from Salt Lake City to play the queer (and friends!) punk monthly Trans Am at Club Eight for a rapturous beer-spurtin’ crowd last Saturday.

Anavan, “You’re Taking Me Out”

The frantic foursome greeted us with mucho fog machine, trademark hockey helmets, drum, bass, and a wall of synths. And then everything got crazy in a voices-in-your-head way (mostly thanks to the skittering, hyperactive vocals mixed waaaay back in the echo-delay mix.)

Courtesy of the muthafuckin’ LA Times

In the case of the hockey helmets, visual connections to those masked masters Daft Punk, MSTRKRFT, and occasionally (if primly painted-on facial scruff counts — yes, I’m calling those skinny French boys out) Justice might be made. And sonically they can sometimes resemble those glam-tech outfits a teeny-tad, mostly in their boppy keyboard riffs. But Anavan adds its own cymbal-crashing, wildly energetic No-Wave twist, sure to please the art school crowd (Richard Hell is all the rage again, haven’t you heard?) and dance floor maniacs as well as indie kids. I expect you’ll hear them burning down discos near you soon.

(Next month a Trans Am, Sat May 3, features SF native cuties Ex-Boyfriends — should be rocking’.)

SPORTS: Bring back Barry

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April 7, 2008

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BY A.J. Hayes

Less blah.

Enough already, we get it. Go ahead, put the cap back on the Sharpie, and step away from the bus.

That’s right, you, the graffitist/frustrated Giants fan who’s been going around town doctoring the Giants advertisements on the back of Muni coaches- making the ad copy that initially read: “All Out. All Season,” say instead: “All Outs. All Season.”

Very funny. Ha, ha. ha. Ho, ho, ho and a bottle of rum. Actually we’ll need a bottle of rum to numb the pain if the Giants get pinned with one more ugly 7-0 shutout.

It’s been only a week, but we’ve seen enough. The Giants lineup is not working. What makes it scarier is that the 1985 Giants, the club that posted the worst record in San Francisco history – 62-100 – had a lineup (featuring Chili Davis, Jeffery Leonard, Bob Brenly) that was considerably better than the current team.

This year, Giants ads have promised a grittier club that hangs together win or lose.

And while, yes, the Giants have two potential pitching aces in Matt Cain and Tim Lincecum and a couple of exciting position players, including the daring and eminently watchable Eugenio Velez, will that be enough to keep an easily distracted fan base from hanging in there?

It won’t do the Giants any good to work out any mid-season trades – who would they deal?

But it might not be a bad idea for the Giants to plant a scout in Hollywood.

That’s where they might catch a glimpse of the banished Barry Bonds eating breakfast with Larry King or taking in a Tyler Perry movie premiere. Despite batting .276, with 28 homers and 66 RBI last season, no team wanted Bonds this spring.

Bonds is ready, willing and certainly able to play another season – and it should be with San Francisco. What better way for the club to celebrate its 50th Anniversary in San Francisco than by having one of the club’s all-time greatest players knocking balls into the bay?

We say bring back San Francisco’s favorite surly slugger.