SPONTANEOUS BISEXUALITY OF THE FUTURE?

Italian physician Dr. Umberto Veronesi is predicting a rise in bisexuality in the future, claiming that we will be able to see evidence of this major trend in just three generations time. This, he contends, will be attributed to a massive cultural transition whereby love will be based more upon affection than procreation.

But relax! The Washington Blade reports that, according to Dr. Paula Rodríguez Rust, a lesbian and member of the International Academy of Sex Research, "...that doesn’t mean people who are straight or gay will spontaneously become bisexual."

Whew! For a second there I thought turning bi was the new spontaneous combustion .

According to the National Center for Health Statistics, less than three percent of Americans identify themselves as bisexual. Whether or not these were incidences of spontaneity was not reported.

All paranoia aside, I am glad to know that love is more about affection than "genital needs" these days. Recently, my friend David H came across this great Freud quote from "Civilization and its Discontents":

"People give the name 'love' to the relation between a man and a woman whose genital needs have lead them to found a family" (57).

Sexy (;

I am now imagining a Sandals commercial of the future (three generations time to be exact), where instead of "I've had the time of my life", the backgrond music is Blur's "Girls and Boys":

Streets like a jungle
So call the police
Following the herd
Down to Greece...on holiday
Love in the nineties
Is paranoid
On sunny beaches
Take your chances...looking for
Girls who are boys
Who like boys to be girls
Who do boys like their girls
Who do girls like their boys
Always should be someone you really love

BIN LADEN MORE POPULAR THAN BUSH

At least in Pakistan. A poll by a Virginia-based think tank called "Terror Free Tomorrow" ran a poll asking 1,044 Pakistanis, face-to-face, what they thought of bin Laden, Bush and their own president Pervez Musharraf.

Turns out bin Laden blew the competition out of the water with a whopping 46 percent approval rating, while Musharraf got a 38 percent rating and Bush, surprise surprise was at a pitiful nine percent.

There is a silver lining, however. The Pakistanis admitted their opinion of the U.S. would get better if Americans gave more aid to their country, gave more in business investments, and issued more visas so that they could work in America.

And who knows, maybe, if we treat 'em right, they'll erect a great monument to commemorate the outstanding support we've shown to them. Perhaps like the sarcastic Sarajevans who built a great statue to honor us and show how very much they loved the canned beef they received during the 1992-95 seige of their city.

HOPE IN THE DARK

Every now and again I'll come across a book which moves me to tears. I think this has happened maybe 3 or 4 times in my life. I recently finished Rebecca Solnit's "Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities" and such a moment occurred in the very last chapter.

Rebecca Solnit is a local Bay Area activist and cultural historian. I first came across her in the Guardian's Comment is Free section, enchanted by her ballsiness in writing this entry. Her prose in "Hope in the Dark" shines and dazzles, waxing poetic on subjects that tend not to inspire great nonfiction writers to step outside of basic documentarian posturing.

The book revisits social movements stemming from the '99 WTO protests in Seattle, and traces some truly inspiring moments of activism which, in Solnit's view, have sparked a new breed of political activism across the globe, the Zapatistas in Chiapas often cited as one example of this new model. What's truly stunning is how she manages to connect all the dots, pinpointing the amount of political cross-pollination that has occurred over the past decade through common enemies such as war, global warming, environmental sustainability and labor rights. Linking conservative ranchers to lefty environmentalists fighting for sustainability; Kazakhs and Western Shoshones united against nuclear test sites, Solnit captures the seemingly nebulous state of modern social movements.

The ending of this book was so beautiful, and made me oh so very proud to be a San Franciscan:

The future is dark, but begin in the present, at the Pacific where it fronts my city, where western civilization comes to an end in a strip of sand and the realm of whales and sharks begins. Fish populations are plummeting in this and other oceans, but if you go down the coast a ways you'll come to where the sea otters hunted nearly into extinction have come back to the kelp beds; if you go either north or south, you'll come to the beaches where the elephant seals who were likewise nearly exterminated return every winter to fight, mate, and nurse their young. Take a third Pacific species, though--the brown pelican, which also nearly disappeared, then came back--and imagine one pelican's trajectory from Ocean Beach, the western edge of my city and our continent.

Imagine it soaring with the heavy prehistoric grace of a pterodactyl down Fulton Street, the long street that starts at the beach, parallels the north side of Golden Gate Park, and carries on after the park ends to run east through the old African-American neighborhood, past surviving gospel churches and extinct barbershops to the little formal garden between the War Memorial Building and the Opera House, then straight into City Hall, whose great gilded dome straddles the street. Let that pelican soar through the echoing central atrium where in 1961 students who protested the anticommunist purges were washed down the marble stairs with fire hoses, let the bird float out the other side, going on east, to United Nations Plaza, where Fulton dead-ends into Market Street, the city's main artery. This is the place where stories come together, one of the countless centers of the world.

...From the west, California as a fierce goddess confronts you; at her feet stands the California grizzly, extinct everywhere but in art and on the state flag. Dedicated on Thanksgiving 1894, the monument survived the 1906 earthquake while all the buildings around it crumbled and burned...a few Native Americans denounced one of its life-size sculptural groupings, the one that shows a Mexican vaquero and padre looming ominously over a prone and apparently conquered Indian. They didn't succeed...but they stirred up a furious public conversation about California history, and they won an addition, a bronze plaque below the sculptural group that speaks of genocide and colonialism, a small rewriting of history, a small measure of change.

...This is what the world looks like to me, like U.N. Plaza, full of half-forgotten victories and new catastrophes, of farmers and junkies, of mountains of apples and of people trying to change the world and tell the truth. Someday all of this may be ruins, but for now it is a place where history is still unfolding. Today is also the day of creation.

We need more books like this to read in conjunction with bleak morning newspapers. We need something.

Hawke Book Spreads Abject Mediocrity, Drags Feist Down with It


Oh crappy Ethan Hawke book, I thought I'd erased all memories of you when I threw you in the trash at age 16, perhaps, if memory serves, even spitting on your shitty hardbound cover. But now you've been made into a feature film, effectively making me wish for the days when Garden State, the worst Wes Anderson/Mike Nichols knock-off film ever, was just the worst pseudo-pretentious peice of trash I'd ever seen. But now I've become saddened by the knowledge that even Zach Braff just isn't at the bottom of the barrel any more.

I think it was the line, "And the day made love to the night" that threw me into a fit of nausea-tinged anger as a youth--I mean, at 16 I was no lit expert, but c'mon, I wrote more compelling stories at age 10 (a story I wrote about a tennis ball and his journey of self-discovery was published in a collection of short fiction by Nevada elementary school children one year). The plot goes something like this: boy meets girl, boy looses girl, boy goes off the deep end of an olympic-sized pool of his own self-loathing and pitifully lame self-indulgence expressed through banal cliches masquerading as expressions of profound heartbreak.

Hawke's new movie looks so bad, it's even got steely-hearted film critics embarrassed. This review was my favorite:

He’s a certifiable pseudo-pretentious windbag who wants so goddamn badly to be Gus Van Sant that it makes my spleen ache like a saxophone inside a sick tooth. And the biggest problem I have with it is not an outright dislike for his work, but a queasy brand of pity I feel for a writer/director who seems almost all too aware of just how third-rate he is comparatively. It’s like … like … Jewel showing up to a poetry reading at Maya Angelou’s house. She’s gotta know just how badly she’s going to embarrass herself, but you feel equal parts shame and reverence for the brazen audacity it takes to get up there and avail her grade-school level vulnerabilities in front of a poet laureate.

What's more, Hawke hired this schmuck Jessie Harris to score the soundtrack. This Harris character used his wannabe-indie sensibilities to write all the songs and hand-pick the musicians "fortunate" enough to cover them. Willie Nelson, Cat Power, Emmylou Harris and Feist are sadly among them. I was excited about the idea of discovering a new Feist song, so I downloaded and almost enjoyed it enough...but then..."like roses on the sea"? Wtf? Ethan? Did you write these lyrics?

Unchained unchained
We drift away
Like roses on the sea

Stars in the sky
They’re always alone
They’re on their own
But you know they’ll always shine
And I know they’ll always shine
All the time

Bwwahh, brrwahhargh, blarghwaagh

(I'm such a great writer, I can capture the essence of barfing so very well. Try that Hawke...more like...chicken.)

VIDEO GAMES, THEY AIN'T WHAT THEY USED TO BE



There was once a time, long ago and far away, when a wee lad could grow up strong, and grow up wise, and become the all-time world champion of Donkey Kong, or even Missile Command, if you like. He may appear on the cover of Life magazine, pose for Playgirl, marry a woman with fantastic breast implants, and even have a great conversation with the rock star Madonna Ciccone, in the 80s. Last weekend I saw King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, which captured that bygone era in all its glory.

Perhaps the most awe-inspiring, mind-blowing documentary of geekdom that I have ever experienced, the characters featured in this film were so rich, so incredibly dweeby, that the director was offered a movie deal to have real actors portray the real-life ubernerds.

A side character that really didn't appear all too often in the film really stood out--the aforementioned Missile Command world champ. Dubbing himself "Mr. Awesome", me and my friend Allie felt the immediate need to YouTube the video of himself featured in the documentary, where he lays out his guide to getting girls, stating, in his best Senator Ed Kennedy impression, and I quote, "I want you to remember: No punk bastard ever got a gnarly piece of poontang by being sensitive and considerate!":



After the film, we engaged in a serious discussion about video games, how social they once were, etc etc. I found myself recounting my days of a deeply disturbing addiction to the first-ever CD-formatted game console SEGA CD at age 13. Specifically, the game Night Trap, which has since been pulled off the shelves due to its controversial content. I loved that game, it had all the right ingredients to make for an unbelievably creepy gaming experience: you've got a young pre-suicidal Dana Plato, massive house with hidden passages to explore, bizarrely devious family with near-scenes of molestation, and nightie-clad sorority types falling prey to ninja/vampire burglars wielding sci-fi blood-extracting devices. This thing really blew GTA and Resident Evil out of the water. Seriously. Recently, also on YouTube, I discovered segments of the game...oh how I yearn to play it again! Die Lisa Die!

SENATOR LARRY CRAIG GETS NO RESPECT


The Craigs

Since I've only read about him and never heard his voice, I'd like to imagine the Idaho Senator talking trash like Rodney Dangerfield, elaborating upon his official statement to the press about recent allegations of improper public bathroom behavior:

I'm tellin ya, I'm not gay.I never have been gay. No respect, no respect. My wife, she's a real frigid kinda dame, y'know? I mean, a roll in the hay is like, foreign to her y'know? She thinks Grape Nuts is an STD or sometin'. My brother said giving him a blow job would help his unemployment, so she gave him one, y'know? This dame. No respect.

So I get a little lonely on business trips? So wha? Rubbin another man's leg in a bathroom stall is like, the way I say hello, make friends y'know? Badda bing! Then I give 'em a little slap n'tickle, how's your father, I'm just sayin--no respect no respect. If that leads to somethin sexual, who am I to turn someone away and hurt their feelings, y'know? People are actin like I'm gay or somethin', those who don't want to give me respect--do I need to remind you who I am? Larry-muthafuckinrespectful-Craig. I'm such a great social conservative, where's the respect? Where did it go? Ay! I've been in the NRA for over 20 years now, I reject protection for gay victims of hate crimes and am a big endorser of the Federal Marriage Amendment, y'know? No respect no respect. I think the federal government should give no respect to Hurricane Katrina survivors. Ay-oh! I get respect, but them gays and poor New Orleans sons of bitches, they get no respect. I am Larry-muthafuckinrespectful-Craig.

MY HIGH SCHOOL REUNION


A shot from Lisa W's sweet sixteen. There's nothing more foul in all the world than rich white teenagers receiving new cars with bows on top.

My reunion was crap. There, I said it. Completely anti-climactic, a super-low turnout of under 70 for a class of 300+, and a recent tragedy less than one week prior which saw our "Most Friendliest" as a meat cleaver-wielding child killer didn't help matters. All this made for a sad event indeed.

However, I did get to see about five or so awesome folks that have actually maintained their awesome tendencies, if not completely expanded upon them. And I stole a time capsule from a girl in my class that was appallingly snobby in high school. And it had some really intimate collectibles. And they were LOLADOF funny ("Laugh Out Loud And Dying On Floor" for those not hip with the new lingo). This girl didn't make it to the reunion, and since I never made my own time capsule, I rejoiced at living vicariously through Lisa W.'s.

Lisa W. was on the dance team with me. She had dark brown hair past her ass and was extremely lanky with stalky green bean legs. I never counted her as one of the more intimidating beauties in our school, especially since she had a speech impediment which made it difficult for her to pronounce her R's, replacing them W's. She thought she was a real gem though, that's for sure. And judging from the suitors that passed notes to her in class, a bit of a "woman of the night". One of them, who we'll refer to as "J", was a friend of mine, and made an annual event out of asking me out. I, in return, made it an annual event to flatly reject him. But Lisa W. dated him, and boy was that ever a train wreck. After Lisa brutally dumped him, he wrote this note to her in class:

Though time may pass a thousand shadows, the only scene I feel is your touch through the looking glass...I'll see you again when time permits the fate of young love. That day I love you and farewell.

Later, when "J" still can't move on, and Lisa W has a new boy toy, he writes:

Lisa, you're the best damn tease in the nation's powerhouse.

She responds:

Ya tease to please, not please to tease. Do it right or not at all.

What that means I may never know. I certainly didn't know it in high school, maybe that's why my dating life was so nonexistent as a youth.

The best was the letter she wrote to herself though:

Dear Me (Lisa),
I wanted to write a letter to myself so that in 10yrs I can remember what I was like...I hope that when I read this in 10yrs Ames and Shans will still be my friends. Amy is the goofy one, she reminds me of Phoebe on "Friends"...Luke calls me "chicken legs" cuz I'm so skinny. I don't think that but oh well...Well I have finally gotten into modeling and now I'm just waiting to hear from agents. I'm working at Contempo Casuals and I love the beach. I hope that in 10yrs I have a house on the beach or near it w/horses... Being 17 is so fun, no responsibilities, but when I'm 27 I will be reading this. That's pretty scary. "Smile its the second best thing for your lips, the first is chapstick." Well I best be on my way--oh and one more thing. No matter how hard mom tries, my room is never clean.
Love always, Lisa Class '97'

Oh Lisa, thank you for deep insights on...chapstick.

TOO COOL AND CONSERVATIVE FOR SCHOOL

Ever hear of FOX news' answer to the Daily Show, "The 1/2 Hour News Hour"? Yeah, me neither, and looks like no one ever will since it was canceled on Tuesday after a painful six months.

Shock! Horror! How could this be? And with rock star conservatives like Rush Limbaugh, Dennis Miller, and Ann Coulter on board? Hmmm...maybe it's because neocons and their ilk don't have the intellectual capacity to convey solid satire and even basic humor. Must've been a slight oversight on FOX's part. Whoops. SO PATHETIC! They actually had to PAY their studio audience members just to be there and had to rely on canned laughter!

In memoriam, let's look at what some of the critics had to say:

"Sometimes the humor is so heavy-handed that it seems almost like self-parody."
--The New York Times

"'Weekend Update' on its worst night isn't this bad."
--The Orlando Sentinel

"It's even worse than anyone imagined."
--The Onion A.V.Club

BEFORE VIEWING, A WARNING: Throwing up in one's own mouth may occur:



Even after the whole Crossfire debacle at CNN, seems like the conservative media barons haven't learned their lesson: don't mess with the Stewart and the Colbert.

HAPPY DEATH DAY ELVIS

Today is the 30th anniversary of the King's death. As devotees from all over the world make the pilgrimage to Graceland, I'd like to post a YouTube photo montage/audio of one of the funniest Elvis recordings ever. Who knew His Majesty had such a wicked sense of humor and giggled like a schoolboy at his own immaturity? Listen to Elvis completely loose his shit:



On the subject of death, turns out army suicides are at a 26-year high with 99 soldiers offing themselves last year alone! Also, there were 948 attempted suicides! YAY WAR IS FUN!!!

THE NYT UNCOVERS A GLITCH IN THE MATRIX!



So some professor of philosophy at Oxford claims we have a 20% chance of living in a Matrix-like scenario whereby we are all just computer simulations from some "Prime Designer", or some nerd on a couch with a (literal) god complex.

This supposed Dr. Bostrom told the NYTimes in a recent article,“My gut feeling, and it’s nothing more than that...is that there’s a 20 percent chance we’re living in a computer simulation.”

Yeah, and my gut feeling is that you're 90 percent full of shit, and marginally retarded. But the NYT columnist goes on to indulge this theory, revealing less about Bostrom's opportunistic philosophical indulgences and more about his own inflated sense of journalistic righteousness:

If simulations stop once the simulated inhabitants understand what’s going on, then I really shouldn’t be spreading Dr. Bostrom’s ideas. But if you’re still around to read this, I guess the Prime Designer is reasonably tolerant, or maybe curious to see how we react once we start figuring out the situation.

Oh what a tangled web you've weaved little NYT self-aggrandizer.

It’s also possible that there would be logistical problems in creating layer upon layer of simulations. There might not be enough computing power to continue the simulation if billions of inhabitants of a virtual world started creating their own virtual worlds with billions of inhabitants apiece.

It's like Russian dolls...whoaaaaaaa! He leaves us with this, in regards to how the end of the world (or whatever "world" that we know)could play out:

It might be something clunky like “Insufficient Memory to Continue Simulation.” But I like to think it would be simple and familiar: “Game Over.”

Cute (;

BOSTON CONFERENCE, CBS INFILTRATION, AND THE CHRISTIAN SCIENTISTS

Just flew back to the US of A: West Coast Edition yesterday afternoon from NYC, and boy, do I wish I hadn't.

Things I miss: summer HEAT(!!!), cheap seafood, better beer, good conversation with state politicians, Rick Moranis, the American Association of Nude Recreation, smiley Christian Scientists and having them shower me with free copies of their newspaper, seeing "M" and Marie, real pizza, Central Park, Dean and Deluca cupcakes, reverence for JFK, Mike Wallace's office, opera singers from a neighboring music school faintly belting it out across the street from my friend's house.

Things I am happy to not miss at all: counting rats in the subway and contemplating if Manhattan's rat population could ultimately destroy all human life on the island, schmoozing with awkward state politicians, "continental breakfast", humidity, holier-than-thou Williamsburg kids. As you can see, the things I miss greatly outnumber the things I don't.

I'll back up: I was sent to Boston to attend a conference for state legislators during the week, then I went to NYC to visit a friend for the weekend. The first day of the conference I played hookey, opting to sneak onto a tour bus headed towards the JFK Presidential Library. That was a beautiful experience; it almost made me teary-eyed revisiting his exhilarating campaign towards the Presidency, reflecting on the founding of the Peace Corps, and musing on the glory days of Camelot.


Below the quote, photos of public spaces dedicated to JFK around the world

The next few days were spent attending lecture sessions about things like redistricting, water resource policy (actually the most entertaining), immigration, educating the future workforce, etc etc. My favorite part was the massive general sessions though. On one day, pop historian David McCullough spoke about the importance of history, another, Nancy Pelosi talked about something inane (I missed that one), as did Skeletor (I mean, Michael Chertoff), and Jimmy Orr, the "brains" behind the Whitehouse's "Barney Cam", who discussed how morons such as himself are given top positions in the White House communications department. I remember, one morning, telling the cabbie that I was about go watch Michael Chertoff speak. He replied, in a very strong Indian accent, "What is wrong with him? He looks like a cancer patient or demon." I concurred, the man is sickly--of both mind and body. And he's out to destroy He-Man!

Anyways. I had some insightful discussions at lunch and on the bus, among other places. A legislator from Nevada told me about water resources and the frivolity of Lake Las Vegas, an Australian politician from Canberra talked about the value of compulsory voting and the importance of not worrying about campaign fund raising, and a lawmaker from Kansas told me about her daughter living in Tehran.

And then there was the exhibition hall. I decided to alleviate the boredom that plagued the booths of certain lobby groups and non-profits who seemed greatly stigmatized by most attendees. For instance, I had a fine chat with the Nude Recreationists--I asked them if they felt uncomfortable in their business suits. They did. They also said they were angry about being referred to as a "colony"--they weren't ants!

The medical marijuana group and the progressive drug policy people seemed to be extremely bored--most of the legislators seemed to stick to the far outskirts of an imaginary bubble surrounding their booths. So I chatted them up and got some free statsheets. Yes! Statsheets!

There was actually some great swag items to be had. My favorites were a C-Span tote bag (to be worn for a hot night out on the town)and a super-cool gadget from the NRA. Yes, I know I know, I didn't want to go near those NRA folks, what with their creepy pictures of Charlton Heston and swathing groups of children. But I got the best toy ever. It's a whistle, a compass, thermostat and flashlight all in one! For those Deliverance moments that NRA-lovin deer hunters must fall prey to all the time.

On my down time, I kept walking over to the Christian Science Plaza, which holds the Mary Baker Eddy Museum and the mother church. I have this obsession with the Christan Scientists because I feel their belief system holds the key to how a publication can achieve the very best in journalistic integrity. I fucking love the Monitor. That's all.

The interior of the church is amazing, with one of the largest organs in the country, and a very impressive rotunda, while the outside is cold and strange, like the outside of the Willy Wonka chocolate factory. I kept thinking, 'Nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever comes out!' while strolling the grounds.

Speaking with a tour guide really helped demystify some of the misgivings of the religion. Turns out that modern-day Christian Scientists don't really condemn those who received medicine or surgery. They just like to emphasize the natural healing principles that Christ Jesus (as they call him) practiced. They rely upon spirituality to overcome psychosomatic tendencies, but are by no means extremists about it.

The Mary Baker Eddy museum, on the other hand, was a little freaky. It definitely gave off the strangeness of Scientology. I ventured into the Mapparium,the interior of a huge stained-glass globe constructed in the 1930s, as well as the "Hall of Ideas."


The Hall of Ideas

I'll stop writing about the Christian Scientists now. My friend "M", who I stayed with in Manhattan over the weekend, was really sick of hearing about it. My time with her was spent flashing her CBS ID all around town to get into museums and shows for free, watching her dance like Michael Jackson, seeing Spamalot (kinda overrated--not really worth mentioning), almost meeting Rick Moranis at a coffee shop, and visiting the offices of 60 minutes where I took an inordinate amount of time photographing Mike Wallace's office.

Now's the part where I tell you what I learned on my summer vacation: Summers in San Francisco blow compared to New York and Boston. But then again, for the entire remainder of the year, nothing beats it.

LIVE FROM BOSTON! IT'S A NEW BLOG POST!

Well actually this post probably won't be so "live" by the time anyone reads it. Anyways. I've been away for a massive conference, bonding with our nation's great state legislators in the "City that never sleeps"... "The biggest little city in the world"...that's right: Boston! I only have a few hrs left before hopping a train to Penn Station to visit a friend in NYC for the weekend, but in the mean time will go spend some quality time with the Christian Scientists at the Mary Baker Eddy museum for the second day in the row. I really can't pry myself away from the place--will update with photos soon!

bisous

BARACK MY WORLD

Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!...Look, up in the sky...It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...it's...Barack Obama ready to kick some serious al Qaeda and other such radical Islamic militant/terrorist operations' ass!"



Obama's new Pakistan strategy, while I want to believe it's the right thing to do because I love Obama more than Jesus if I were a born-again Christian recovering alcoholic living in a FEMA trailer, just seems so strange and out of character. He's coming down way hard with the war-mongering all of a sudden.

Even through my rosy liberal glasses, I know war time may be all I will ever know for the rest of my natural-born life due to the fact that the world hates us, and will probably try to kill us on our home soil repeatedly because our government has robbed millions of their own. It's the great American existential crisis of our time. But still. He's going for a pre-emptive strike that even the Bush administration is too prudish to attempt. That kinda scares me, considering his lack of military experience. But if his ability to prove, by all outward appearances, that he's going to "fight for the Homeland" ultimately allows him to win the presidency, do your duty chief.

Some excerpts from this morning's speech:

"Just because the President misrepresents our enemies does not mean we do not have them. The terrorists are at war with us. The threat is from violent extremists who are a small minority of the world's 1.3 billion Muslims, but the threat is real. They distort Islam. They kill man, woman and child; Christian and Hindu, Jew and Muslim. They seek to create a repressive caliphate. To defeat this enemy, we must understand who we are fighting against, and what we are fighting for...

The President would have us believe that every bomb in Baghdad is part of al Qaeda's war against us, not an Iraqi civil war. He elevates al Qaeda in Iraq – which didn't exist before our invasion – and overlooks the people who hit us on 9/11, who are training new recruits in Pakistan. He lumps together groups with very different goals: al Qaeda and Iran, Shiite militias and Sunni insurgents. He confuses our mission...

By refusing to end the war in Iraq, President Bush is giving the terrorists what they really want, and what the Congress voted to give them in 2002: a U.S. occupation of undetermined length, at undetermined cost, with undetermined consequences.

When I am President, we will wage the war that has to be won, with a comprehensive strategy with five elements: getting out of Iraq and on to the right battlefield in Afghanistan and Pakistan; developing the capabilities and partnerships we need to take out the terrorists and the world's most deadly weapons; engaging the world to dry up support for terror and extremism; restoring our values; and securing a more resilient homeland."

MY NEXT NETFLIX RENTAL...

Has got to be "The Shining". I don't know why everyone claims it's so scary...I really liked Jerry Maguire, so I think I'll really enjoy it.



postscript: extra props for the selection of Peter Gabriel's "Salsbury Hill", most clichéd film song ever!!!

C'MON BAN KI-MOON, TALK ABOUT GAY PEOPLE!

This video, taken at the World Affairs Council at the Fairmont Hotel here in the city by the bay just the other night (side note:San Francisco is also the site of the very first UN conference in '45), made me side split it did. Not only did I LOL, but boy did I ever ROTFL (roll on the floor laughing, for those of you not familiar with the hip new lingo). Activists Michael Petrelis and Hank Wilson, yelling at the top of their lungs and totally drowning out UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon, shout "WE CAME HERE TO TALK ABOUT GAY PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD! TALK ABOUT GAAAAY PEE-POOOLE!"



I had a flashback to my super-serious student reporter days, when I attended a city council discussion to pass a resolution to bring back the troops or impeach the president, one of the two. Regardless of the topic at hand, a librarian-esque withering lady with frail features and wiry gray hair slowly made her way up to the podium and announced to a flood of patchouli-infused activists and crusty professor-looking city councilmembers, "There's all this talk about the war and the human devastation in Iraq...but what about all the flora and fauna? What about all the wildlife and trees that are being damaged or outright destroyed out there?"

Instantly I equated the absurdity of the local Santa Cruz political scene to what appeared to be another bit of the absurd at the UN meeting. But these chants, as humorous as they sound when one perceives them to be out of context, don't seem so LOL funny when one considers the UN's relationship with the LGBT community.

As of one week ago, the UN had not given any LGBT or sexual minority group consultative status, which is the only way that a non-governmental organization (NGO) can be legitimately recognized, consequently then able to participate in UN meetings, submit written statements, host panels, and gain access to UN buildings. In January of 2006, two of the largest LGBT NGOs were summarily denied status without appropriate consideration or review.

But just last week, United Nations Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC) delegates finally allowed the Coalition gaie et lesbienne du Québec and the Swedish Federation for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Rights (RFSL) consultative status.

Why should the UN become involved in gay rights around the world? Because if no one in this country, or in any of the other western industrialized member states like the French Republic or the United Kingdom, will set an agenda acknowledging the persecution of sexual minorities as an obvious and base obstruction of human rights, the atrocities inflicted upon LGBT communities will go on, and all the pie-in-the-sky ideals about maintaining social progress, human dignity and the like will be lost in the UN.

From a Human Rights Watch article, on its site, in 2006:

As the U.S. government acknowledged in its 2004 country report on Iran, Iranian law punishes homosexual conduct between men with the death penalty. Human Rights Watch has documented four cases of arrests, flogging, or execution of gay men in Iran since 2003. In its 2004 country report on Zimbabwe, the U.S. government noted President Robert Mugabe’s public denouncement of homosexuals, blaming them for “Africa's ills.” In the past, Mugabe has called gays and lesbians “people without rights” and “worse than dogs and pigs.”

Hank Wilson, one of the protesters heckling K-Moon, said,"The United Nations never fails to speak out against injustice and human rights violations as they happen, but they are criminally silent when it comes to the murders of lesbians and gay men."

I salute Petrelis and Wilson. As San Francisco Bay Area residents and members of the LGBT community, their brand of political activism and expression is not limited to prancing around in a leather daddy parade in a vile attempt to create a public sex spectacle that only stigmatizes their community even more.

FEELING CHECK #2: Today...nausea


This is my sad, sad lunch.

Feeling check: today I am feeling extremely disappointed with my Trader Joe lunch. Wanting to save some serious cash, combined with the fact that I get really bored with the usual financial district chain food trash, compels me to buy whatever Trader Joe preprepared lunches I can get my mitts on. Sometimes they're supergood: may I recommend the Southwestern Salad? It's crisp iceberg lettuce is topped with sweet yellow corn, hearty black beans, crispy red peppers and queso fresco. The dressing is orange and not so hot, but if used in moderation is slightly more than edible. Or there is the instant Pad Thai, which comes in a nifty Chinese takeout box and contains two plastic pouches--one with noodles and one with sauce. Just open them and microwave for two minutes: you will transported to Bangkok in no time! (Figuratively--jeesh, if Trader Joe's had that kind of power, I would not be eating their food in my cubie.)

But today's lunch was a downright travesity of Mexican food. I thought a five-cheese green chile quesadilla would be hard to fuck up. I was wrong, so so wrong.

I shall now leave you with these lyrics from a song written by the mentally retarded actor who played Corky on "Life Goes On":

Eating is fun, eating is serious
Eat too much, you might get delirious
Don't eat enough, you might disapperious
Eating is so, so serious

(Courtesy of J.Wolf)

WHERE THE KISSES ARE HERS AND HERS AND HERS AND HIS


Originally there was a redhead in this photo, but Neilsen viewers did not like her.

Today, while on the serious prowl for a room to rent, I happened upon this little gem of an ad, it really inspired me to reply. But instead of showing up at this guy's home with a red wig, pepper spray and steel-toed shoes (for pantal area kickings), I decided to respond back with my own ad. I am hoping he responds to my ad, and believes he's found an answer to all his prayers...

His Craigslist ad:

$1000 Looking for red-headed female roommate (cole valley / ashbury hts)
Reply to: hous-377156851@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-07-18, 9:55PM PDT

Yes, I know that this may sound very wierd, but I would highly prefer a red-headed female roommate to move in August.

I am 32 year old male, and live with 25 year old female. She always has her brunette cousin over, so I wanted to fulfill my high school dream (and brag to all my guy friends) of having a hot blonde, brunette, and red-headed roommate. Oh yeah, you have to be somewhat attractive.

The place is great. Very spacious. Details:
-2 Living rooms/bar area/fire place (All windows- lots of natural light!)
-FREE WASHER/DRYER in the garage!! This place is awesome!!
-Yard Access/great for BBQ.

If you are not redheaded but willing to either dye your hair or at the very least wear a wig from time to time, we can talk. Good luck in your search.

My ad:

$1100 Red-headed female seeks male housemate and brunette female housemate (cole valley / ashbury hts)
Reply to: hous-377542287@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-07-19, 12:07PM PDT

THIS IS NOT A JOKE! ONLY SERIOUS RESPONSES PLEASE!

So I'm looking for a great room with all the emminities, a wet bar and jacuzzi is a definate +++!

My friends think I'm crazy, but I've always had this high school fantasy of living in the big city (I'm fresh off the farm from Missoula, Montana) with a really cool guy and two hot girls--a blond and a brunette. Kind of like "Three's Company" --if it was on late night Cinemax if you know what I mean!

If you don't know what I mean, (I'm sorry but I'm a little nervous and even prudish in real life--this is a totally impulsive thing for me to be posting), I want to fulfill the desires of one very lucky San Francisco man.

More about me: I like to watch the sea lions on the wharf with a brown-bagged mini bottle of tequila, and LOVE taking the time to stroll around North Beach and grab a fine pasta or egg roll. I also LOVE musical theter and saw Legally Blonde, like, five times. Right now I'm cocktail waitressing some nights and teaching Pilates during the day. I don't like to brag, but I used to do calendar modeling, and almost won Miss Tropicana Hotel Las Vegas a few years back. I love fitness!

If you think we could be a good fit, please let me know! I really like Cole Valley and tons of other places around Haight St, but am open to other suggestions...email me!

BUMMER OF LOVE

Over the weekend I came across an insightful Summer of Love retrospective article in the Guardian Monthly, published in the UK in June but arriving at my local bookshop a few days ago. Having read a piece in the SF Chronicle a few months back, with its micro-interviews with top "movers and shakers" of the era that offered, at best, a scant contextual account of the movement, I was relieved to find that someone had written something decent to mark the 40th Anniversary of the Summer of Love.



The Guardian didn't paint a rosy picture of some kind of a cultural renaissance spurred by mad visionaries hellbent on starting a revolution, one acid tab at a time, but instead gave a thought-provoking account of its social relevance--and lack thereof--without sounding prescriptive and preachy. The amazing interviews featured here consisted of talks with Country Joe McDonald ("And it's 1-2-3, what are we fighting for?"); Stanley Mouse, whose Greatful Dead illustrations of skulls and roses will forever be associated with hippie culture; Steppenwolf frontman John Kay; and--most notably--Barry Melton, the "Fish" from Country Joe and the Fish. Melton was NEVER interviewed by the flurry of local press given to the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love. Too bad, because I thought his quotes went above and beyond what anyone else had to say in terms of grasping some sort of perspective of the counterculture. Oh, plus, he's like, one of the very few people with some social relevance in the modern day city of San Francisco, as Melton is now a Chief Public Defender for Yolo County, as well as President of the California Association of Public Defenders.

As such, Melton says:

I like all these goths and kids with tattoos, bandanas and dreadlocks. Ninety per cent of the kids who dress like that are not in gangs, it's just a 'Fuck you' thing--like us having long hair was a 'Fuck you' thing, and what I do now is a 'Fuck you' thing.

Sam Andrew, guitarist for Janis Joplin's Big Brother and the Holding Company, gave the best quotes, summing up the darker side of the entire movement in one fell swoop:

There was the Monterey Pop festival in June, and all the kids came up to fill the Haight. With them, the vultures moved in. What we had done was commercialized. People moved in who wanted to make a buck out of it all, especially the drugs. Hard drugs arrived - speed, meth, cocaine, heroin. The drugs became tiring and boring. And free love? Women were raped - it became a perversion of what it had been before.

The SF Chron said:

The Summer of Love resonates in strip mall yoga classes, pop music, visual art, fashion, attitudes toward drugs, the personal computer revolution, and the current mad dash toward the greening of America.

Wow. Strip mall yoga classes. Thank god for the hippies and their brazen ideologies! Once again, the San Francisco local press really shines through, offering top-notch cultural analysis.

It seems that just last week, even Mayor McDreamy jumped on the nostalgia bandwagon, proclaiming that September 2 will be "Summer of Love 40th Anniversary Day." A free concert will be held in Golden Gate Park to celebrate the day, featuring too many beats and hippie peeps to mention. Go here. Maybe you can catch yourself a good old fashioned rapin'.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR PRESIDENT



Why don't you give yourself the gift of human decency and self-respect and drop off the face of the planet already? As you celebrate your birthday, never for one second doubt that a good portion of the world's population will be praying for your deathday.

NOT ME, OF COURSE, I EMPHATICALLY LOVE MY PRESIDENT AND MY GOVERNMENT. I WISH MY CAPS LOCK MADE MY WORDS EVEN BIGGER SO THAT I COULD STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

UPDATE ON WIKIPEDIA ENTRY

Having not monitored the whereabouts of my Wikipedia entry entitled, "hang loose Hawaii", I was alerted from others that it had been taken down within hours. This should come as no surprise, Wiki admin are quickly turning into the Gestapo of grammar and objectivity. Well, at least for a disenfranchised coalition of incredibly geeked-out editing obsessives who will spend hundreds upon thousands of hours of their lives managing information just for the hell of it. According to a recent NYT article, "A great many entries are deemed unworthy even of Wikipedia's catholic attention and are deleted within days, hours or even minutes." Dudes need to chill, they need to just hang loose Hawaii and go back to playing Pokemon and hitting bedtime when their moms tell them to.

In retrospect I am a little upset, however, since I have actually created an entry in the past while doing some crafty work for a PR company, and that entry was totally meant to make a cosmetic company look good. It's still up.Guess who our client was. It's so obviously meant for marketing purposes that I can't believe it's been up for almost four months now.

For those who didn't get a chance to find the true definition of "hang loose Hawaii", I'll try to summarize it for you here:

"Hang Loose Hawaii is a slang term popularized in the early part of the 21st century among west coast American youth, commonly used to express a strong desire to be chill and stay mellow in a war-torn world ravaged by the threat of imminent, global terrorism."

Then I went on to describe how to make the hang loose sign with your hand by extending the thumb and pinkie finger. I also made note that the dyslexic and mentally retarded may have a difficult time with this gesture, so it is suggested that they extend their index and pinkie instead. I followed that passage with the following picture:



I then described the Hawaiian roots of the term by sourcing the "Aloha Insider"--just so my game seemed legit. To conclude, I gave prime examples of how one could use the term in casual conversation, which is as follows:

A: "Dude, my little sister just got critically wounded with a taser gun by the campus police, and the Marxism lecturer just got shot down at the anti-war demonstration, wanna go join the rioters ouside?"

B: "No bro, American Idol's on, I think I'm just hang loose Hawaii and stay in tonight. That Simon Cowell is so funny, what a douchebag."

OR

A: "Yo! What's up bro? Wanna get all agro tonight and drop some
acid at the video arcade?"

B:"No sorry I'm not down with the hard stuff, tonight I think I'm
just gonna hang loose Hawaii."

A: "Yeah I hear ya."

But good news! I just Googled "hang loose Hawaii" and found my entry! It is Number 4 in the listings, right under a website for "Gay Vacations". Try clicking on it! Now! If Google is the Billboard Charts for information, my entry still reigns supreme. And I'm still waiting to hear back from the Urban Dictionary, so who knows, I may singlehandedly reshape American slang terminology as we know it with this one.

LEXICON BLITZKRIEG!

Today, I've decided I'm going to make a fine contribution to society as a productive member (of said society) by offering a new addition to Wikipedia, as well as the Urban Dictionary. Unfortunately the UD does not publish right away, but here is my Wikipedia entry, check it out before they take it down for my photo's copyright violations.

OH HELL NO



In personal news...I'm pregnant!

Just kidding.

Today I can't stop laughing over this story about a New Zealand couple and their choice of birth name, which was rejected because it was alphanumeric:

Pat and Sheena Wheaton said they decided to name their new baby "4real" shortly after having an ultrasound and being struck by the reality of his impending arrival.

If I named my kid based on my gut reaction to an ultrasound, chances are my future child would be called "oh hell no". Hmmm...on second thought I kinda like that, sounds Hawaiian. Other names rejected by the New Zealand Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages include "Satan" and "Adolph Hitler."

IKEA'S SOCIAL CONFORMITY ISSUES

A self-described ex-goth emailed me to petition Ikea, the neurotically-minimalist Swede furniture behemoth, for obvious reasons:



Doesn't this description seem more than a bit obscure? Did a disgruntled prepster intern have a field day in the marketing dept or what? I didn't even know there was a legitimate gothic community in Sweden...

Here's a few more that I came up with, if I were working for Ikea and, at the time, I was a conformity-loving, Ritalin-addicted college student embittered by "alternative types", but loved my generic Ikea chicness:

"Brusselsprouttikki hanging lamp: your grad will need to get high to hang this stylish lamp, but not high like stoners, who can be a bad influence."

--or how about, "Bootikafka duvet cover: futursitic modern chic, yet won't inspire D&D sessions and sloppy kissing that can be expected from sci-fi dweebs, who can be a bad influence."

--or, "Kournikovalla shag rug: your grad will feel so comfortable passing out on the rug, she won't ever want to get ruffied by a frat boy again, who can be a bad influence."

IN SUSPICION OF ALL OF THE CULTURAL IMPLICATIONS OF DISNEY'S AMERICA


WWWD: What Would Walt Do?

Managing to rise, like a phoenix from the ashes, from my life as a child with absolutely zero nostalgia or emotional attachment to all things Disney, I have instead found myself deeply suspicious of the American and youth-exploitative empire.

It probably started when I was a teenager in the early 90s, and I heard about the Disney Company's plans to purchase land just a few miles outside of the Manassas National Battlefield Park in Virginia. They wanted to install a new theme park, blasphemously called, "Disney's America." In the process, their plans for outlying hotels, restaurants, shopping centers, etc, would have corroded the pivotal American landmark that was the backdrop for the Battle of Bull Run pts.1 and 2, featuring all-star Confederate general Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson.

And now, Disney World Resorts has announced that, along with the help of Gloria Estefan and of course the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (UCIS), they will host the naturalization of 1,000 new American "dreamers" on Independence Day, at Cinderella Castle no less. I guess the "It's a Small World" ride was fully booked that day.

Meg Crofton, president of Walt Disney World Resort, said,"And what better place than Disney World, where dreams come true every day of the year. We are honored to participate as America bestows its greatest gift – the gift of citizenship."

Yeah Meg, you and your fatcat Disney execs are true humanitarians. I'm sure the fact that your associates over on the west coast are desperate to staff "Disney on Ice" has nothing to do with it.

Perhaps, by some outward appearances, it would seem that the Disney Co is simply celebrating the idea of immigration. To some bizarrely-interpreted capacity this could be said to be a positive. However, I find it incredibly suspicious that a children's entertainment empire like that of Disney, with such an insatiable stranglehold on American popular culture, would team up with government agencies to clandestinely cloak a politically-motivated initiative with the guise of theme parks and entertainment.

And what of their lord and personal savior Walt Disney? WWWD? Not so sure the Communist fearmongerer with mild Nazi-sympathizing tendencies would be all too thrilled.

ETERNAL SUNSET OF THE SPOTLESS MIND


The view facing west from the Cat Cay Yacht Club

It's boring and sunny here in San Francisco, at around 5 in the pm. But in the Bahamas, it's about 9:30, and golden sun is about to ignite a dazzling glow along the horizon of the sparklingly congenial Atlantic.

Now you can experience a sunset in all its beauty all day long (I have been). Or just marvel at Todd Hido's explorations of suburban twilight and feel estranged and alone in the universe (I have):

U.S. INFANT DEATH, CIVIC WEALTH, BEER

Inspired by a heart-wrenching NPR story overheard this morning, I bring frightening news of infant mortality rates in America: we rank 36 out of 196 nations (according to the WHO), and Mississippi's rate is just as high as Russia's, with an 11.4% rate per every 1,000 births. Check out this index for some global perspective.

Why is this not a larger news item? Are these tragedies endemic to minority groups in southern states, slung down an Orwellian memory hole like the horror that is the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina?

Southern regional director for the Children's Defense Fund, Oleta Fitzgerald, told NPR, "Nobody wants to take care of poor children, whether they are black or white or whatever color."

I know that threat of poverty among U.S. citizens has become this monstrous elephant in the room for most mid to upper class folks in this country--some Marxist instructor of mine in Santa Cruz once noted that the top 10% of wealthy Americans are under the illusion that they rank in the top 1%. A measurement that is questionable to be sure, but I would make the argument that this mass delusion has been made salient by recent measures passed by this administration over the past 5 or some odd years. But why all the denial? Why don't people realize how impoverished their quality of life really is in this country?

To me, real wealth isn't measured by how easy it is to pay off a mortgage, or buy an excessive amount of sport utility vehicles. It is measured by how able one is to exert political authority and actually become an acknowledged citizen of the United States. Whether they are lobbyists, members of a 527, or even a significant individual donor to a political campaign, the wealthy are the ones who are in a position to assert their own authority, enabling them to remain in the top tiers of society for the rest of their natural born lives. I probably sound very naive in this assessment, but I think that Americans in general cannot fully conceptualize the weight and breadth of all that this simple notion implies.

On a not-so-much-but-still-kind-of-in-a-sick-way brighter note, a recent Rand McNally survey (the road map making dudes) showed that, of all the presidential hopefuls, Rudolph Giuliani was ranked the number one road trip buddy for this summer! Why is this important? Well, for a nation who voted into office the candidate they would most like to grab a beer with, an awful lot.

"Many people think that history is a dull subject. Dull? Is it 'dull' that Jesse James once got bitten on the forehead by an ant, and at first it didn't seem like anything, but then the bite got worse and worse, so he went to a doctor in town, and the secretary told him to wait, so he sat down and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and then finally he got to see the doctor, and the doctor put some salve on it? You call that dull?"
– Jack Handey

CONCHORDS, EAGLES AND SHARKS


I've become quite the New Zealand folk music fan recently, well, actually just a fan of one band in particular, "Flight of the Conchords", having become instantly enamored with their HBO series. Then I discovered their live act, which is arguably even better, with painfully hilarious songs like the social commentary "Albi the Racist Dragon", the Barry White-inspired "Business Time" and the very impressive rap-off "Hiphopopotamus vs the Rhymnoceros". Yeah I'd say they're charting musical territory that acts like Tenacious D can only dream about.

Describing themselves as "New Zealand's 4th most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo", the marketing department really knew how to work it, as the Conchords seem to be everywhere these days. Nearly a month ago a friend of mine invited me to a premiere screening of their first show here in SF, then I found a DVD of the show literally lying in a gutter in the Mission District. Then today I saw a movie poster for one of the band members' upcoming films, "Eagle vs Shark", which appears to be a smartly-soundtracked Napoleon Dynamite-esque romcom. Watch out Jack Black, Jermaine Clement is the new you--only way more awesome. The movie comes out next month.

I can't wait, in the meantime, I will be watching Mel's vlog (as the Russians might call it) on the Conchords' HBO site with bated breath.

FEELING CHECK

Okay, feeling check: I'm feeling really inadequate today. I've been on the horn to Washington all morning and I've had quite enough of it thank you very much. Although I really like the idea of saying I am "on the horn to Washington". I think I'll say I'm "on the horn to Washington" more often. Yep, I was on the horn...nevermind. I'm trying to execute this difficult feature exploring the way in which the two-tiered structure of government, or state/federal partnership functions when so many states must reduce themselves to lobbying groups in order to get their concerns addressed. Apparently no fed on the Hill is at all bothered by their gripes, as no one wants to talk to me. This jerk Joe was the worst though, this geek staff member of a certain mid-western Senator who must live in the shadow of a certain man whose middle name is that of a certain evil dictator overthrown in recent memory.

Anyways, when I got through to his highness grand poobah of media relations, he graciously allowed me 15 seconds to describe the piece before chiming in, "Why did you choose the Senator for this interview?" I said, "Well..(basically I thought the guy would be desperate for media attention)...I see that the Senator is a member of the Subcommittee on the Financial Services and General Government, and..." He interjects, "He is the CHAIR of the Subcommittee, and the Subcommittee is a federal appropriations committee which hardly deals with state legislative issues and I'm afraid I just don't think this interview is in the Senator's best interest as he receives 200-300 interview requests per week (HA! try millennium!)and I'm sorry but I am going to have to respectfully deny your request."

Ouch. Oh well, as a means of catharsis, I would like to join in the mass inadequacies that must penetrate the collective conscious of several world leaders who are making headlines today. First and foremost: Tony Blair, are you feeling a wee bit inadequate today? You must be, otherwise you wouldn't blame the media for your current state of public disapproval. Kindly remove your man parts from our president's backside, and don't let the door hurt your swollen man parts on the way out!

Also, Fidel Castro, are you feeling inadequate today? Yes the world knows you don't care much for our president, but your recent editorial about Bush's visit to Albania left something to be desired. Really, a man whose hatred for W burns like that of a thousand suns can only come up with: "He tried to commit them further to spill generous blood in those peaceful wars"? Really? I know you're no Molly Ivins, and that you may be a bit on the, er, how should I say it, waiting list for God's waiting room, but come on, the entire world has your attention and don't recruit a speech writer?

And Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, everyone knows you're more than a little inadequate at this time. Media types throwin' around the word "Hamasastan" and all. But here, for you, I offer this comic relief. If America's boundaries were re-worked, it might look a little something like this:

THAT FUNKE IS SOME KIND OF SOMETHING: indulging in AD nostalgia


Best Dr. Tobias Funke quote ever:

Tobias: Well, yes, but I'm afraid I prematurely shot my wad on what
was supposed to be a dry run, if you will, so now I'm afraid I have
something of a mess on my hands.

Michael: There are just so many poorly chosen words in that sentence.