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Bedazzler: Beyonce at Oracle Arena

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Dangerous curves ahead: Beyonce and company and “Crazy in Love.” All photos by Charles Russo.

By Kimberly Chun


I’m bedazzled by Beyonce – bewitched, bemused, checked in and down for the night at the Knowles family’s B&B. ‘Nuff said.

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I resort to the Stan Lee comicbook equivalent of “end of discussion” because I’m just too tempted to toss in the towel after taking in Ms. Knowles’ Thierry Mugler-imbued show (she tellingly selected him as her tour’s costume designer and “creative advisor” after discovering his handiwork at the “Superheroes” exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute last year). Have mercy, my robotic leopard woman. Because despite it’s tough, sleek surfaces, Beyonce’s “I Am… Tour” is an organic, ever-morphing, slippery organism, judging from the timely Michael Jackson/“Halo” tribute and seemingly impromptu birthday singalong that closed July 10 performance at the Oracle Arena.

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Genius avant camp. Heaven-bound goddess-gown diva perfection. Down-on-the-floor earthy air-humping along to a guitar solo. Warm moments of communion with the fans. Obama love juxtaposing the Civil Rights marches, **Cadillac Records,** the ‘09 inauguration celebration, and “At Last.” Aerial flips and hood-ornament poses on a trapeze eliciting shrieks of delight from the audience. All were welcome, all were included. And the curvaceous, rump-shaking, and robust Beyonce held up throughout, looking like an ace super-trooper while dancing, kicking, and singing in her minis, hot pants, and sparkly heels ala a young Tina Turner, and whipping around Shakira-esque curls with the fury of go-go dancer scorned.

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From the photo pit: Tamia Pitts, 7, was front and center.

Three possibly relevant sex studies

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By Juliette Tang

A new study conducted by researchers at Oxford University and the University College of London argues that, should a woman want to get pregnant, her chances are better with man who’s unattractive.

The logic goes as follows: attractive males have more sex. Because attractive guys have more partners, they have to allocate their sperm carefully from partner to partner, in order to maximize chances of knocking up more women. Whereas because unattractive guys don’t have as many partners, they can afford to blow it all, if you will, on the few they have.

What exactly constitutes “attractive” versus “unattractive,” the study does not say. However, the study does draw an entertaining comparison between human beings and “animals such as the domestic fowl, and fish such as the Arctic charr.” It concludes by admitting, “The model should also be expanded to include the effects of short-term sperm depletion, which is known to affect ejaculate content” (i.e. the study needs to consider the case of frequent masturbators). Relevant? You decide.

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Sex therapist Ian Kerner revisits the 1974 Shaky Bridge Study, which reveals that, when exposed to larger amounts of adrenaline and stress, people are more prone to sexual attraction and romantic attachment.

Psychologists Arthur Aron and Donald Dutton used two bridges, a solid one that rose 10 feet over sea level, and this one, the Capilano Canyon Suspension Bridge which is 5 feet wide, 450 feet long, and sways 250 feet above the river below, as the setting for their research. For the first part of the study, they had an attractive woman stand at the middle of the sturdy bridge, asking random passerbys to fill out a short psychology survey. She then gave the men her phone number, asking them to call if they were interested in finding results. The next day, she repeated the routine, on the more dangerous suspension bridge.

Remembering “Creature from the Black Lagoon” star Ben Chapman

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By Sean McCourt

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Courtesy of Ben Chapman

Having roared and clawed its way into the hearts of film fans around the world when it was first released in 1954, the Universal monster classic Creature from the Black Lagoon has endured for generation after generation, seeming to grow in popularity with every passing year. Filmed in glorious black and white, the tale of the ancient half-man, half-fish — better known as the Gillman — cleverly uses the unique aspects of the colorless medium to effectively create a creepy atmosphere, particularly with the manipulation of shadows and lighting. Believable cast interaction, a monstrous musical score, and above all a great story make Creature a picture to remember — and it’s clear from the multitude of collectibles, video releases, actor appearances, and screening events that faithful fans have done just that.

The iconic and intricately designed Gillman suit was brought to life in the scenes above water by the late Ben Chapman, who gave the character a sympathetic feel through his body language and natural motions — a feat that no modern CG effect could hope to recreate. Chapman, who passed away last year at the age of 79, visited San Francisco in October of 2006 for a special event at the Castro Theatre celebrating Creature, meeting fans and sharing memories with the audience. I had a chance to speak with him then.

“One of the things that made [the film] successful — and it shows — is that we were all very happy. It was a great crew, great people. I would get up in the morning and I couldn’t wait to get to the studio,” he said.

ESFAC’E: The face of pop culture, redefined

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By Mayka Mei

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There are lifestyle brands. And then there are lifestyle brands. While the likes of Paris Hilton are “working” to expand their “businesses” in empowering consumers to turn heads with obnoxious celeb perfumes, Dele Sobomehin and his friends are running youth camps and making political statements with the most socially conscious fashion label in the Bay.

Sobomehin (“Dele” is short for “Oladele”) literally works in a brotherhood of friends and family as ESFAC’E’s first full-time employee. Sobomehin, his brother, and friends from Stanford and Santa Clara University founded the brand with a mission to make popular culture positive. And thus, in 2002, a movement was born.

ESFAC’E (pronounced “es-fah-chee”) is actually an acronym for the heart of their label’s movement: Education and Service through Fashion, Athletics, Community, and Entertainment. ESFAC’E’s urban-styled screened tees are just the face of their efforts.

Snap Sounds: Desire

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By Johnny Ray Huston

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DESIRE

Desire

(Italians Do It Better)

Sorry, but I can’t hate: Johnny Jewel’s latest disco project is too lost in emotion to be dismissed as a hipster poseathon. The 1980s touches dig below irony the same way Glass Candy’s cover of "Computer Love" gave that icy-by-definition track a successful heart transplant. "Don’t Call" is my jam of the summer so far, not least because of its live "Beat It" rhythm.

Silent Film Fest gets Lupe

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By Dennis Harvey

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Ms. Lupe Valez

According to (disputed) legend, the 1944 death of 36-year-old Lupe Velez was far from glamorous, yet had classic Hollywood form: face-down in the toilet, choked on the pills she was regurgitating in a suicide attempt that succeeded, albeit not as planned. That sad end — she was despondent over a married lover and their unborn child — provided high contrast with her live-wire persona on and off-screen. The latter included high-drama involvements with legendary hunks Gary Cooper and Johnny "Tarzan" Weissmuller. In movies, she both defined and transcended a "Mexican Spitfire" stereotype (the actual name of her popular B-flick comedy series) with manic comic energy reminiscent of a Latina Clara Bow on one hand and a blueprint for Charo on the other.

Two features in this year’s Silent Film Festival find her minus speaking voice, but hardly muzzled. She was just 18 (and a convent school dropout) when picked to star opposite superstar Douglas Fairbanks in 1927’s The Gaucho. As his highly temperamental, jealous sweetheart, she gave as good as she got, frequently engaging his rakish hero in knock-down fights — a rehearsal for notorious later public spats with short-term husband Weissmuller, perhaps? Two years later she’d assumed a title role herself in Lady of the Pavements, a very late silent (its added "part-talkie" sequences have been lost) and one of D.W. Griffith’s last films. She plays a 19th-century Parisian cafe dancer who gets the Pygmalion treatment by a duplicitous countess seeking to humiliate her ex-fiancée. Material better suited to Lubitsch or Von Stroheim, this sophisticated seriocomic fluff wasn’t ideal for stuffy Griffith; and he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) tap Velez’s natural rambunctiousness as Fairbanks had. But this rare antique is still worth a look.

Other festival program highlights include Josef von Sternberg’s Oscar-winning gangster tale Underworld (1927), Victor Sjostrom’s poetic melodrama The Wind (1928), Gustav Machaty’s scandalous Czech Erotikon (1929), early W.C. Fields vehicle So’s Your Old Man (1926), and delirious Russian sci-fi exercise Aelita, Queen of Mars (1924). Live music will accompany each program.

SAN FRANCISCO SILENT FILM FESTIVAL July 10–12, free–$20. Castro Theatre, 429 Castro, SF.

(415) 621-6120, www.silentfilm.org

All sex, no plot: The new porn?

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By Juliette Tang

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Yesterday saw an interesting piece in the New York Times on the slow disappearance of plot-based porn flicks in favor of films comprised solely of sex scenes, without any narrative structure, that can easily be broken up and presented online. According to the Times, the DVD sales and rental industry was $3.62 billion in 2006 (a number estimated by Paul Fishbein, president of the AVN Media Network) but has fallen as much as 50% since then. Rather than solely filming feature length, plot-based movies, like Pirates XXX, which was released in 2005, studios are focusing more attention on filming vignettes instead — series of sex scenes that occasionally share a theme, like “Girls ‘n Glasses”.

While some are alarmed at the changes afoot in the industry, it’s a fact that studios are focusing less and less attention on making feature DVDs and that interest is only going to decrease from here. In this NYT video, Steven Hirsch, chief executive of Vivid Entertainment, states that while it wasn’t that many years ago that all of Vivid’s income was dependent on DVD sales, now, less than half of their income is generated from DVDs, largely due to the nature of the internet. Vivid now offers an online membership that users can subscribe to, that allows them to view video clips and photos simply by logging in.

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Written on the body: Raging Stallion’s Ink Storm offers a different definition of “porn script”

I sent an email to Ben Leon, a director at Raging Stallion Studios, a major gay porn studio located in San Francisco, and asked for his perspective on these changing trends. The NYT article doesn’t discuss gay porn, which has historically been much less attached to the plot-paradigm than straight porn. [You couldn’t fit much more on those old Super8 one-reelers! -Ed.]

He made an interesting point linking the new web model of porn with the uptick of interest in fetish material, which the NYT article didn’t really touch on either. Said Leon, “I also think that porn is changing as the culture changes. A new trend in porn is a heavy swing toward fetish material. This trend is not that different than the wider trend toward making internet content. The new fetish stuff and the internet sites are marketed to a very specific audience. This specialization is both a widening of the market but also a contraction in certain ways. Like mass media-as it becomes more pervasive it also becomes much more targeted. People are now able to find the information (or porn) they want filtered through whatever bias or glass they choose.”

Chicks with dicks on top (NSFW)

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By Marke B.

I’m gonna count this as a local story — because, hey, Google’s right down the peninsula. And I’m gonna count this as research — because, hey, it’s my job. While casually looking up photos, for work, associated with the new kinda boring HBO series “Hung” — about a lengthy middle-aged hustler which takes place in my hometown Detroit, at least a suburb of it, and has served for critics who should know better as nothing but a big ol “shit on the Motor City” punching bag — I was pleasantly surprised to find that this image came right up at the top of my safe-mode-off Google Image search this morning:

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: Mateo, Castro and Clipper

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Tell us about your look: “My boyfriend got me this shirt.”

Screw design: Jimmyjane’s Ethan Imboden works the vibe

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Ethan Imboden, center. Photo from the blog of Rose Apodaca. The vibrator, in its evolution, has come a long, long way. The first vibrators, which debuted in the late 19th century, look nothing like sex toys as we know them today and everything like like the kind of power tools you’d find in the basement lair of a serial killer. They also came with sexy names like the “Shelton Deluxe-Wayne Vibrator” and “Dr. Ocara’s Pulsocon,” though more appropriate names for these toys run along the lines of the “Pleasure of Pain” and “Use me if you don’t want a clitoris by the time we’re through”. As the decades progressed, vibrator manufacturers continued to struggle with design. The design of 1950s-era vibrators were not a great improvement on the vibrators of the 1890s, as evidenced by this toaster on wheels-made-of-hot-rollers known as the Chic Glorifier. Though utilitarian vibrators have existed for over a century, it hasn’t been until recently that sex toy manufacturers have started realizing that while having an orgasm is sexy, having an orgasm with a something that looks like a power drill is not. Having sex with a person is generally more satisfying if you are attracted to the person in the first place, so why can’t the same philosophy be applied to the act of having sex with a toy? So along came Jimmyjane. Founded by Ethan Imboden in 2003, Jimmyjane is a local company headquartered in Potrero Hill that sells high design vibrators, with price points starting from around $100 to an almost inconceivable $2,750 for the Little Gold Eternity, a gold vibrator adorned in diamonds and etched with hearts that looks like something you’d find on rich cougar’s bedside table (if you were lucky). An expensive vibrator isn’t for everyone (I myself cannot fathom spending over $100 on anything that doesn’t involve a week’s worth of groceries or a plane ticket), but for those who want an aesthetically pleasing vibrator and have the money to spend, Jimmyjane is a nice little oasis in a world of scary vibrators. Even for this skinflint blogger, spending over a hundred dollars on Jimmyjane’s beautifully designed Form 6 is not beyond the realm of possible futures. Ethan sat down with the SFBG to talk about Jimmyjane and the changing future of vibrators. jimmycase0709.jpg

SFBG: You went to Johns Hopkins and got your degree in electrical engineering, and then you went to Pratt for industrial design. So it actually really makes sense that you’re doing what you’re doing. But do you recall the first moments, in your history as a designer and engineer, when you realized you wanted to make vibrators?

EI: Yes absolutely. It’s etched indelibly in my memory. I was visiting a sex toy trade show with a potential client. That was really the first time I really entered into the world of sex toys and accessories. I was immediately struck by the fact that design had not touched the category and there was such an opportunity to take the same discipline in my background and apply them here. I had some experience with sex toys, but not a whole lot to be honest. And I had no idea how much experience my peers had with these types of products, but when I got back that’s all anyonen wanted to talk about.

SFBG: Looking at your vibes, there’s a perceptible aesthetic. It’s minimal, it’s modern, and definitely ‘less than more’ when it comes to ornament. But what, in your own words, is Jimmyjane’s design philosophy?

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: Bruce, Castro Theatre

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Tell us about your look: “It’s opening night of the gay and lesbian film festival so I just had to dress up!”

Web Wears: Lulu and Your Mom have celeb status, cyber style

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In this week’s profile, Guardian writer Mayka Mei interviews Bay Area born-and-raised Lulu Chang of Lulu and Your Mom. All photos courtesy of Lulu Chang.

If Lulu Chang could give the world one piece of advice, it would be “Don’t be so hungry.”

The voice behind the ever-popular fashion blog, Lulu and Your Mom, didn’t set out to be the Internet celebrity she is today. It just happened that way. Now Chang sees over 2,000 hits a day, according to Bloglovin’, on what is essentially a photo blog with lots of style opinions and quick doses of editorial.

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Who needs a reality show to jumpstart a modeling career?

For Chang, blogging started as a simple Blogspot account in March of 2008. “At that time there were really only a handful of personal style bloggers,” Chang claims.

For those not familiar with the personal style blog, it’s an ongoing Web-based documentary of what one wears day in and day out. Sound ho-hum? You obviously don’t share the zeal for fashion that millions of readers across the globe have for the likes of Chang, MADE Jewelry muse Rumi, and precocious and somewhat creepy tween Tavi.

Kode 9 and Spaceape: dubstep eats itself

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By Mosi Reeves

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Kode 9: aborted?

"The mainstream of dubstep is becoming such an abortion," Kode 9 complained to electronic music advocate (and former Bay Area writer) Philip Sherburne in an eMusic.com interview. It’s a curious statement from someone who is being marketed (along with Burial, Skream, Benga, and a handful of others) as leaders of the dubstep incursion, a hybridization of 2-step garage, jungle breaks at half-speed and good ol’ ragga. (It’s the amalgamation of "dub" and "step.") Only two years after Burial’s Untrue (Hyperdub) brought pop’s cool-hunters to this bastard genre, it seems, dubstep is already eating itself.

U.K. electronic music (and its Anglophile offshoot) is herded by theorists, and Steve "Kode 9" Goodman is one of them. He has a doctorate in philosophy, and recently received a commission from the New Museum of Contemporary Art’s Rhizome technology initiative for a forthcoming documentary, Unsound Systems, that explores the use of sound as psychological weapon. His record label, Hyperdub, started out as a Web site spotlighting futurists like Kodwo Eshun and was responsible for the aforementioned Untrue as well as Zomby’s recent spin on ’90s ‘ardkore dynamics, Where Were You in ’92? (Werk).

Kode 9’s first collection, 2006’s Memories of the Future, pairs bleak echoing tones with pummeling bass thuds. One popular track, "Sine," finds vocalist Spaceape reinterpreting Prince’s "Sign O’ The Times" as dread intonation: "Sign o’ the times mess with your mind, hurry before it’s too late."

Declaring that a scene is "over" just as the great unwashed embraces it — recent dubstep parties in San Francisco have packed dance floors — seems particularly snotty and perverse. But by disappearing into thicker brush, Kode 9 stays ahead of pop mediocrity. His new singles, particularly "Black Sun / 2 Far Gone," add melancholic melodies and popping bass, retracing a path back to 2-step. Accordingly, U.K. critics have made it an example of a silly new subgenre called "funky." (George Clinton would laugh at that one.)

All this ideological shoegazing shouldn’t distract you from enjoying Kode 9’s tunes. But it should tell you that U.K. electronic music has traveled very far up its own arse. "I think U.K. electronic music is a bit of a mess right now and very microsegmented, to be honest," said Kode 9 in the eMusic interview. "But there are some lines of intersection that are promising."

THE FUTURE: KODE 9, SPACEAPE, THE FLYING SKULLS Fri/10, 10 p.m., $10 (advance). 103 Harriet, 103 Harriet, SF. (415) 431-8609. www.1015.com/103harriet/events

Change the Beat rips off the safety

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By Michael Krimper

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Votel, freakin’ you

A small portion of music nurtures body, mind, and soul. A miniscule subsect does so by ripping you magnificently out of your familiar musical safety zones with unpredictable and compellingly fresh organizations of sound. Some have baptized the songs that fall under this rarefied territory of music "face-melters," and for good reason. Assiduously dissolving toughened aural skin, face-melting music inspires knowledge of the outer galactic and inner expansive reaches of the embodied mind. Its dangerous allure has solicited varied responses from thinkers, poets, and musicians throughout history. Plato advises to obliterate such enigmatic revelry in The Republic. William Blake seeks to illustrate its destructive purity in Songs of Innocence and of Experience. More recently, Afrika Bambaataa’s "Searching for the Perfect Beat" embodies the infinite quest for mystical rhythms.

The DJ, producer, and deep crate-digger Andy Votel has made a career out of cultivating and archiving the face-melting phenomenon. Conducting the freaked-out, electronic psych epic Styles of The Unexpected (Twisted Nerve Records, 2000), and helping spearhead Finders Keepers Records to reissue international instances of obscure and intensely monstrous tracks from around the world, Votel is a leading expert on the limit zones of post-World War II music. Notable Finders Keepers reissues and compilations that will rewire your neural networks have emerged from Anatolia (Mustafa Özkent, Selda), France (Jean-Pierre Massiera, Jean-Claude Vannier), and Pakistan (this year’s comp Sound of Wonder).

One contemporary contributor to the Keepers catalog is Los Angeles’ feral beatsmith and DJ the Gaslamp Killer. A mad scientist of the Low End Theory collective, GLK psychedel-ifies hypnotic boom bap cuts and mutates vocals into chilling hums and fuzzed out screams locked toward another kind of prayer. But don’t believe me, peep his avant-garde corpse ringer mix I Spit On Your Grave (Obey, 2008). Once you’ve trained your ears on his radiated sewer funk, flip it fresh on Gaslamp’s collaboration with fellow Theorist, Free The Robots, for the jazzier side of the gutter on The Killer Robots (Obey, 2008).

To mark the third birthday of SF funk wizard DJ Centipede’s Catch the Beat party, Votel, GLK, and Free the Robots have come together for a face-melting good time. Leave your mask at home.

CHANGE THE BEAT 3RD YEAR ANNIVERSARY PARTY With Andy Votel, Gaslamp Killer, Free the Robots, DJ Mahssa, DJ Centipede, Citizen Ten. Fri/10, 10 p.m., $10. Paradise Lounge, 1501 Folsom, SF. (415) 252-5017. www.paradisesf.com

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: Chris, Market and Castro

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Tell us about your look: “I got these shoes ages ago from Zara and they’ve lasted for ages.”

Weird Wine of the Week: A Carignane by any other name

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Amy Monroe shares her favorite unusual, overlooked, and underappreciated wines every Tuesday. Check out her previous installment here.

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Carignane is the viticultural equivalent of Jon & Kate, the Duggars, and Octo Mom. Left to its own devices, it bears prodigious amounts of fruit. This is bad. When it comes to wine, high yields equal poor quality. Much like parents whose broods creep into double-digit territory, growers of Carignane spend the majority of their time attempting to keep the vines under control. Typically, they are rewarded with grapes that are very tannic, very acidic, and generally acknowledged to be harsh. Add to these charming qualities the fact that English speakers can’t pronounce it (it’s Care-In-Yawn, by the way), and it’s no wonder you hardly ever see Carignane’s name on a wine label.

I used to be a buyer for a wine shop, which basically means I got paid to taste wine. During that time, for me, Carignane lived up to its infamous reputation: I hated every one I tried. They all tasted like burnt rubber, and a single sip was often so acidic that I worried about the state of my tooth enamel. I didn’t like Carignane, and I told people so – customers, colleagues, friends. In my opinion (about which I was vocal), it was just plain bad, the trailer trash of wine grapes. Then I tasted Trinafour “Niemi Vineyard” Carignane.

Respect your queer elders, child

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By Marke B.

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A photo from SAGE, the LGBT senior advocacy group

Every year around Pride, I get a little teary about all the show of LGBT elder power in the parade (and berate myself for not including more gay senior content in our annual Queer Issue, though I try — and this year we got to look indepth at the Stonewall and Gay Liberation Front generation). In the current issue of the New Yorker, Senior Editor Hendrik Hertzberg commemorated Stonewall’s 40th and got in a few jibes at Obama’s campaign promise foot-dragging. I could have done without some of Hertzberg’s “daddy” tone (apparently we’re overreacting to that awful DoJ DoMA brief that equated anti-same-sex marriage statutes with incest injunctions — although who knows if it’ll help us out in the long run once people see what we’re up against?) but he did come out swinging.

The thing that really caught my eye though, was this snatch Hertzberg included from a heinous, unsigned 1966 Time article called “The Homosexual in America”:

[Homosexuality] is a pathetic little second-rate substitute for reality, a pitiable flight from life. As such it deserves fairness, compassion, understanding and, when possible, treatment. But it deserves no encouragement, no glamorization, no rationalization, no fake status as minority martyrdom, no sophistry about simple differences in taste—and, above all, no pretense that it is anything but a pernicious sickness.

I just adore that “pathetic little” formulation. It makes me feel so BDSM bottom. Via Hertzberg’s blog, Hilzoy over at Washington Monthly has followed up on the Time story to dig up the original atrocity (take your blood pressure pills before you read it), and pull out this precious nugget:

Appetite: Punch for pirates, watermelon soup, orzo mac ‘n cheese, and more

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Every week, Virginia Miller of personalized itinerary service and monthly food, drink, and travel newsletter, www.theperfectspotsf.com, shares foodie news, events, and deals. View the last installment here.

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Delish cocktails at Rickhouse. Photo by Virginia Miller.

NEW OPENINGS Around the Bay

Bourbon & Branch and Cask debut a second bar: Rickhouse
Opening night, July 1st, at Bourbon and Branch’s highly-anticipated second bar, Rickhouse in FiDi, named after a storehouse for aging bourbon. The space, including front and back bars, is gorgeous, with wood planks above and below, and a little balcony area with gentle skylight glow. The Old World feel transports – you can almost imagine you’re aboard a pirate vessel or in an old English tavern. The word was way out on opening night, making for a bit of chaos, but a kindly doorman (replete in cap and vest) regulated so we weren’t body-to-body, while staff and bartenders are cheerful and welcoming. And, oh, that menu! Pages and pages of classic cocktails, punches (punch bowl for four, please!), flips, fizzes, and some wines and draught beers for good measure. This is a cocktail lover’s dream bar and I, for one, am already plotting my next visit.
246 Kearny, SF.
415-398-2827
www.rickhousebar.com

FIVE, Scott Howard’s latest, opens this week in Berkeley
We’ve been missing Scott Howard since his namesake restaurant closed, but he’s debuting Five this week in beautifully remodeled Hotel Shattuck, an elegant, modern space with oval, limestone bar, white pillars and dramatic glass chandelier. The menu (ranging from $5-21 at lunch, $5-28 at dinner), lists playful dishes like Deviled ‘Surf & Turf’ Eggs with Dungeness crab and ham, or Orzo Mac ‘n Cheese with Morel mushrooms and tomato jam. There’s classic cocktails and plenty of onion rings with ginger ketchup. Scott is back!
2086 Allston Way, Berk.
510-845-7300

www.five-berkeley.com

Commis: Hints of molecular gastronomy on Piedmont Ave
JoJo, Oakland long-time classic, closed some months ago, and chef/owner, James Syhabout, moved in with Commis, unexpectedly soft-opening last week. There’s one option: a $49 three-course meal (from a handful of choices in each course), laden with hints of molecular gastronomy since Syhabout’s resume lists the likes of none other than Manresa, WD-50 and Coi. I hear tell of menu items like crisp pork jowl on a poached egg, chicken cooked in malted ale with golden rice, and strawberry watermelon soup for dessert. Sounds like it’s time to make a reservation.
3859 Piedmont Avenue, Oakl.
510-653-3902
www.commisrestaurant.com

Craigslist goes Stag

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By Juliette Tang

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Let’s face it: Craigslist’s new “Adult Services” listing is pretty much just like the old Erotic Services one, but with a new name, a higher price tag, more inconvenience, and no more nude photos. But there’s a new Web site coming to town that might change the face of online soliciting for good: Stagslist.

Unlike Craigslist, Stagslist publicly accepts its role in facilitating online sex work. Stagslist exists solely as an online listing of erotic and adult services and gigs, with the difference being no monitoring, no charge, and no personal verification. For some sex workers, the lack of verification on Stagslist (Craigslist currently requires a phone number, a credit card charge of $10, plus a working Craigslist account) will be liberating. Stagslist offers greater privacy and a forum to post whatever you want, because they won’t screen or modify your ads. And for other sex workers content with Craigslist’s verification system, who feel that it offers a barrier of protection between them and the outside world, Craigslist’s Adult Services listing will still be an option. The arrival of a new erotic listing in town with the openness and viability of Stagslist will level the playing field so that Craigslist hopefully won’t be the main provider of an online adult services forum in San Francisco. And it gives sex workers the option of choosing which platform best suits their specific needs.

Stagslist goes live on July 9, 2009, at noon. While right now, there’s nothing on the site, I’m interested to see what Thursday will bring.

Full press release after the jump.

Lindy (might not be welcome) in the park

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By Sara Schieron

Every Sunday between 11am and 2pm, a group of swing dancers meet in Golden Gate Park for a free dance they call Lindy In The Park (LitP). Over the last 13 years the group, which has grown from a few dozen to 100-200 weekly attendees, have only inspired one complaint (that they know of). Sunday, June 28 at 1:15pm, Park Ranger Raymond Wong came to organizers Jen Holland and Ken Watanabe and alerted them of a sound complaint. The complaint, which was vaguely worded, was formidable enough to close the event down for the day and possibly for good, as this free dance is now, after over a decade, being required to attain a sound permit; a cost that threatened to shut them down. Without that permit, Lindy would no longer be welcome in the Park.

Watanabe reports, “Ranger Wong first said there were a lot of complaints and then, when we pressed him, he said it was the staff at the DeYoung.” As the group has been meeting at the same place for over a decade, hearing that the DeYoung — a fairly soundproof museum — was finally offended seemed questionable.

When the dance was shut down, Watanabe alerted the dancers, many of whom had just appeared impromptu, lured in by the free lesson offered at noon. The regulars, however, rallied quickly and a petition style list of addresses and phone numbers was circulated. At the final count, there were 40-odd addresses, indicating the event regulars were sturdy in number.

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: Cash, Market and Castro

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Tell us about your look: “I got this jacket from my aunt.”

Hot for teacher?

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By Juliette Tang

An entire classroom of 5th graders from the Elk Grove region, near Sacramento, will find themselves inexplicably having hot-for-teacher fantasies or, what is more likely more likely, nightmares, within the next few years. As reported by CBS yesterday, Crystal Defanti, a 5th grade teacher at the Isabelle Jackson Elementary, accidentally gifted her students with her own homemade pornography in a DVD that was supposed to be an end-of-year ‘memories’ compilation. She definitely gave her students something to remember. The DVD started with a menu screen featuring several different videos taken during the school year. The menu items ranged from classroom footage to um, footage of Ms. Defanti completely naked on a couch, crotch-to-the-camera, with her legs sprawled open. Defense experts say that because the whole thing was an embarrassing mistake, Ms. Defanti will likely keep her job and not face any legal consequences.

I think the question that weighs more heavily on our minds isn’t whether Ms. Defanti should keep her job or not (I mean, the poor woman’s embarrassment is punishment enough) but rather, “How the fuck does one edit a movie for fifth graders and accidentally put their own porn on it?” Because, seriously. Even the most computer illiterate among us know that autobiographical X-rated movies should exist on their own password-protected flash drive somewhere hidden far away from where it might accidentally be stumbled upon.

Your happy Pride gay-bashing roundup

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By Marke B.

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Joe Holladay, beaten June 29, in New York. Image via Towleroad

Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the 40th anniversary of Stonewall if a few “fagits” (sic) didn’t get their heads bashed for daring to be all gay about it, right? Some sad reports coming in on the tinsel-footed heels of this week’s celebrations (see below). My thoughts — beyond the usual initial rage and helplessness — are that, just like right-wing wingnuts with liberals, the idiot perpetrators are coming out of the woordwork because they feel threatened by our continued uptick in acceptance, visibility, and flair. Plus they’re probs hella gay.

So of course we have to keep the burners on high and continue the fight (but always keep your eyes open and your heels short). Another thought is that a lot of the commenters on some of the blogs breaking these stories are starting to advocate bashing-back violence — which dismays. By all means we should get riled up by all this and use our anger constructively. But let’s pass on the late-’80s testosterone-blind posturing, please. A, it’s dated, darling. B, yuck.

1. Fort Worth, WTF? Twenty-six-year-old Chad Gibson was put in intensive care with a blood clot in his brain after Fort Worth cops raided a gay bar (old school!) and roughed up the customers on June 30, for nebulous, yet pretty damning, reasons. (Basically no reasons at all.)

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A cell phone capture of Gibson grounded by police at Fort Worth’s Rainbow Room

FTW police chief Jeff Halstead actually claimed the gay panic defense. To whit:

“You’re touched and advanced in certain ways by people inside the bar, that’s offensive,” he said. “I’m happy with the restraint used when they were contacted like that.”

Appropriate hysteria ensued. Then, under heat, Halstead kind of freaked out and claimed there would be a full, in-depth investigation. Hopefully the touchy, advance-y kind.