We'll never forget you. Try as we may.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Last day on the job for Mr President
Final words, thoughts, prayers for Our W, the man who for better and worst has faithfully steered this country since 2001? Let us respond to him, the Decider, in kind.
We'll never forget you. Try as we may.
We'll never forget you. Try as we may.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
You know the economy's gone real rotten when...
Good god, the Bush Man of Fisherman's Wharf has been laid off!
(Alright, he was just off taking a piss. But still -- can he be far behind??)
(Alright, he was just off taking a piss. But still -- can he be far behind??)
How I told my alma mater to fuck off
Like most dudes my age (that I knew) I went off to college at the age of 18, a fresh-faced young scholar ready to read books, learn stuff, and generally make a mark for himself in academia. Four years later, I was a haggard 21 year old with numerous lost weekends (yeah blackouts!), an impending sense of doom, and lots and lots of credit hours spent learning jack-shit (thanks to the magic that is GPA and the double magic that is GPA-based hiring by corporations, students are generally encouraged to undertake such tasks as "basket weaving," "tv-watching" and "fucking one's self" when completing general education requirements).
Don't get me wrong -- I enjoyed myself (mostly) and am (mostly) proud of where I went to school. And I am very lucky, in that I have generous parents who took it upon themselves to pay every last penny of my (egregiously expensive) education: $120,000, or what I make in about four years (every last penny). That figure has now ballooned closer to $200,000, as the country slides further and further towards recession and those same GPA-mad companies lay off thousands.
All this was in my mind when my school came calling today -- calling (or, fine, e-mailing), but with a "hey how's it going" or "would you like to be in our newsletter." No. It was the GIVE US MONEY PLEASE.
Really. You'd like some money. Hey, I understand. I'd like some, too.
So I caved. I did it. I donated two pennies to the business school, in the honor of Corporate Graft and Greed.
If you're reading this, you're welcome, school. Feel free to come back anytime you'd like another handout. In the meantime, I'm still waiting for my "priceless education" to pay a single fucking dividend outside of football and hockey seasons.
Don't get me wrong -- I enjoyed myself (mostly) and am (mostly) proud of where I went to school. And I am very lucky, in that I have generous parents who took it upon themselves to pay every last penny of my (egregiously expensive) education: $120,000, or what I make in about four years (every last penny). That figure has now ballooned closer to $200,000, as the country slides further and further towards recession and those same GPA-mad companies lay off thousands.
All this was in my mind when my school came calling today -- calling (or, fine, e-mailing), but with a "hey how's it going" or "would you like to be in our newsletter." No. It was the GIVE US MONEY PLEASE.
Really. You'd like some money. Hey, I understand. I'd like some, too.
So I caved. I did it. I donated two pennies to the business school, in the honor of Corporate Graft and Greed.
If you're reading this, you're welcome, school. Feel free to come back anytime you'd like another handout. In the meantime, I'm still waiting for my "priceless education" to pay a single fucking dividend outside of football and hockey seasons.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A supe a day keeps the AIDS away
Happy New Year. Enough with that shit. Onto the griping.
Today I visited the Castro St. Muni station, situated as it is in the middle of the Castro District, America's biggest gay neighborhood, which is NOT represented by San Francisco's biggest gay politician.
Though not even Tom Ammiano can claim this.
This gave me some pause. I mean -- what? Seriously.
There he is, the Honorable Bevan Dufty, sporting a shit-eating grin -- a face I've seen thrown my way at 440 -- asking for help in finding out if a pill a day can prevent HIV. I mean -- OK, I'm all for AIDS prevention and treatment, too. But I mean -- what? Was Gavin not available for the photo? Don't get me wrong -- I like Bevan. He's good for a quote, isn't a total slimeball and is mostly transparent in his governance. But I would guarantee you at least half of Bevan's constituents don't know who the fuck he is, and with this one he's just an anonymous... grinner? I don't know. Kinda odd, mostly.
Today I visited the Castro St. Muni station, situated as it is in the middle of the Castro District, America's biggest gay neighborhood, which is NOT represented by San Francisco's biggest gay politician.
Though not even Tom Ammiano can claim this.
This gave me some pause. I mean -- what? Seriously.
There he is, the Honorable Bevan Dufty, sporting a shit-eating grin -- a face I've seen thrown my way at 440 -- asking for help in finding out if a pill a day can prevent HIV. I mean -- OK, I'm all for AIDS prevention and treatment, too. But I mean -- what? Was Gavin not available for the photo? Don't get me wrong -- I like Bevan. He's good for a quote, isn't a total slimeball and is mostly transparent in his governance. But I would guarantee you at least half of Bevan's constituents don't know who the fuck he is, and with this one he's just an anonymous... grinner? I don't know. Kinda odd, mostly.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Here are some embarassing photos of Nancy Pelosi
While shooting some photos of rich and famous dignitaries today it occurred to me how easy it is to make someone look bad with a photograph. People make so many little tics, movements and suchlike even over the course of, say, 30 seconds, that it's blatantly unfair to pick the one or two shots that have someone doing something kinda dumb.
Call me blatantly unfair. Here are some embarrassing photos of Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House of Representatives and S.F.'s voice in Washington (And if you're reading this: I'm still available for a bailout, Madame Speaker).
Deficit up your nose?
"Some people are poor, you say? Oh, Willie -- how droll!"
Or rather, me.
This was a little strange: once the bust of Mr. Harvey Milk was unveiled, Ms. Pelosi kept repeating, "It looks just like him! It looks just like him!" Seeing as how it was based on a rather famous photo of the man, and a professional sculptor made it, I don't know what else was expected -- but I would have to agree: the bust of Harvey Milk does look an awful lot like Harvey Milk.
Call me blatantly unfair. Here are some embarrassing photos of Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House of Representatives and S.F.'s voice in Washington (And if you're reading this: I'm still available for a bailout, Madame Speaker).
Deficit up your nose?
"Some people are poor, you say? Oh, Willie -- how droll!"
And... AHHH! SHE'S WATCHING YOU!
Or rather, me.
This was a little strange: once the bust of Mr. Harvey Milk was unveiled, Ms. Pelosi kept repeating, "It looks just like him! It looks just like him!" Seeing as how it was based on a rather famous photo of the man, and a professional sculptor made it, I don't know what else was expected -- but I would have to agree: the bust of Harvey Milk does look an awful lot like Harvey Milk.
Spot on.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
So now what?
Corner of what used to be Larkin and Bush Streets, 9 p.m. Wednesday
Don't get me wrong -- what happened on Tuesday can only be described as "farting amazing," for a host of reasons. I, like many others, finally respected, liked and felt bad for John McCain, all at the same time and about eight years too late. I, like many others, bounced around from nervous to ebullient, sagged back down to normal and then soared back up again, dancing in the streets, hugging strangers, and swilling cheap champagne, in public, in full view of police officers who only smiled when I made eye contact.
And then I, like many others, woke up on Wednesday hung-over, and had to step over homeless people on the way to work, at a job that might vanish over the next year, in an economy where "budget crisis" is a nom du jour, and in a world where there are still two foreign wars and a corporatocracy running it all.
Because what now, indeed. Much -- in fact, everything, as a certain W is still in office -- is exactly the same it was Nov. 3. Surely what happened Tuesday is an epochal moment, and surely I have never, ever seen so many young black people completely immersed in the political process (for that matter, the same goes for young whites and Latinos, but I digress), but the fact remains: nothing has changed and there is everything yet to be done.
Worst: having won the White House in only the second national election of his life, only four years removed from the Illinois State Legislature, Barack Obama has nowhere to go but down.
Where else could he go? His followers run the entire gamut of the Democratic party, from far-left wackos like myself to just barely right of center Midwestern family people. Don't think for a second that each of his followers, each of whom believes that they've been guaranteed their personal redemption on Tuesday, expects Barack Obama to fulfill each and every campaign promise he's made. Which is, of course, impossible.
Lost in all of this is an onimous warning from Mr. "I handed the White House to Bush in 2000." Ralph Nader, for 50 years a great American -- ever since "The Safe Car You Can't Buy".
In true media fashion, the meat of the argument was lost admist the "Gotcha Gotcha!" sound-bite journalism. He is, of course, old and crazy and a bit inappropriate, but he is, of course absolutely right -- for whom will Barack Obama govern? Will it be for the millions he e-mailed on a daily basis, asking for cash and promising change? Or the corporations he's already voted to bail-out, the military industrial complex he's indicated he wants to expand, the old-money, more of the same Democratic windbags he has to thank with jobs like Secretary of State?
Some other "blogger" said it first -- once the dust settles, there's going to be an awful lot of awfully disappointed people.
And then I, like many others, woke up on Wednesday hung-over, and had to step over homeless people on the way to work, at a job that might vanish over the next year, in an economy where "budget crisis" is a nom du jour, and in a world where there are still two foreign wars and a corporatocracy running it all.
Because what now, indeed. Much -- in fact, everything, as a certain W is still in office -- is exactly the same it was Nov. 3. Surely what happened Tuesday is an epochal moment, and surely I have never, ever seen so many young black people completely immersed in the political process (for that matter, the same goes for young whites and Latinos, but I digress), but the fact remains: nothing has changed and there is everything yet to be done.
Worst: having won the White House in only the second national election of his life, only four years removed from the Illinois State Legislature, Barack Obama has nowhere to go but down.
Where else could he go? His followers run the entire gamut of the Democratic party, from far-left wackos like myself to just barely right of center Midwestern family people. Don't think for a second that each of his followers, each of whom believes that they've been guaranteed their personal redemption on Tuesday, expects Barack Obama to fulfill each and every campaign promise he's made. Which is, of course, impossible.
Lost in all of this is an onimous warning from Mr. "I handed the White House to Bush in 2000." Ralph Nader, for 50 years a great American -- ever since "The Safe Car You Can't Buy".
In true media fashion, the meat of the argument was lost admist the "Gotcha Gotcha!" sound-bite journalism. He is, of course, old and crazy and a bit inappropriate, but he is, of course absolutely right -- for whom will Barack Obama govern? Will it be for the millions he e-mailed on a daily basis, asking for cash and promising change? Or the corporations he's already voted to bail-out, the military industrial complex he's indicated he wants to expand, the old-money, more of the same Democratic windbags he has to thank with jobs like Secretary of State?
Some other "blogger" said it first -- once the dust settles, there's going to be an awful lot of awfully disappointed people.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
The Chron's Weird Bias
Of late, local political stories in The Chronicle have been careful to use certain terms: "far-left," "ultra-liberal" and such when describing candidates for Supervisor and the future face of San Francisco politics. Almost exclusively, in fact -- today's Erin Allday piece, in describing where the next board's political leanings will be, didn't ponder whether it would go right, center or left -- but just "how far left the next board will go."
It's completely possible that the Board could swing straight to the middle if Newsom buddies Ahsha Safai, Carmen Chu and Sean Elsbernd win in 11, 4 and 7 -- Elsbernd is a shoo-in, Chu certainly has the most visibility around the Sunset (and is Asian like most of her constituency), and for some reason Safai is strong. That would mean, with Michaela Alioto-Pier (who often votes with Elsbernd and Chu on whatever it is Gavin wants, and all three of whom feature prominently on Newsom-sponsored campaigns, like No On H), there would be four automatic pro-Newsom votes on every Board decision.
But that's never something the Chron considered -- just "how far left the next board will go."
The fine folks at BeyondChron have already written about this, right after the so-called "Far Left" took over the DCCC in August. "Progressive" has been erased from the lexcion (I can't find the link right now, will try to find it later) at the Chronicle, and replaced instead with almost doom-sayer-like ominous warnings of "the far left," "how far left," "how left of far left the ultra-liberals!"
Is this reflective of San Francisco voters? I don't know too many actual San Franciscans, not the nutjobs who comment on Chron articles to "RECALL DALY!!", who think that this board is some sort of out-of-touch ultra-liberal collection of liberals. What the fuck does that mean, anyway? All the so-called "liberal" candidates want the same things as the not-so-liberal ones: public safety, good schools, etc. etc. But it's the non-so-called liberal ones who are taking cash from landlords and building owners, and the liberal ones who aren't -- and who are talking about keeping middle-income folks like me in town. Is that the sign of being a non-far-lefty, taking developer cash? Then count me out.
It's completely possible that the Board could swing straight to the middle if Newsom buddies Ahsha Safai, Carmen Chu and Sean Elsbernd win in 11, 4 and 7 -- Elsbernd is a shoo-in, Chu certainly has the most visibility around the Sunset (and is Asian like most of her constituency), and for some reason Safai is strong. That would mean, with Michaela Alioto-Pier (who often votes with Elsbernd and Chu on whatever it is Gavin wants, and all three of whom feature prominently on Newsom-sponsored campaigns, like No On H), there would be four automatic pro-Newsom votes on every Board decision.
But that's never something the Chron considered -- just "how far left the next board will go."
The fine folks at BeyondChron have already written about this, right after the so-called "Far Left" took over the DCCC in August. "Progressive" has been erased from the lexcion (I can't find the link right now, will try to find it later) at the Chronicle, and replaced instead with almost doom-sayer-like ominous warnings of "the far left," "how far left," "how left of far left the ultra-liberals!"
Is this reflective of San Francisco voters? I don't know too many actual San Franciscans, not the nutjobs who comment on Chron articles to "RECALL DALY!!", who think that this board is some sort of out-of-touch ultra-liberal collection of liberals. What the fuck does that mean, anyway? All the so-called "liberal" candidates want the same things as the not-so-liberal ones: public safety, good schools, etc. etc. But it's the non-so-called liberal ones who are taking cash from landlords and building owners, and the liberal ones who aren't -- and who are talking about keeping middle-income folks like me in town. Is that the sign of being a non-far-lefty, taking developer cash? Then count me out.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
More confusing campaigning
The funders of this sign would have you vote for somebody in District 3.
They don't care if you vote Republican or Democrat, as long as you vote for their Republican or Democrat(s).
Now, clearly it is impossible to vote for two or three candidates in the same race... so who is it that would have us be so confused?
BOMA SFIE PAC, aka the Building Owners and Managers Association, aka The Man.
As far as I can recall, these three candidates were very very mum prior to June 3 on Prop. 98, which would have phased out rent control. Prop. 98 failed, and several prominent candidates in D3, frontrunner David Chiu and my onetime benefactor Tony Gantner among them, opposed Prop. 98.
D3 is ridiculously crowded as it is, and it looks like Chiu is going to take the whole damn thing -- he's received most of the endorsements -- but if you were looking for some people to oppose, for no other reason than they take money from landlords and building owners, here you go.
"Vote for someone -- no no not them! Him? No! Her? Ok. Him -- alright, fine, too. But not HIM!"
They don't care if you vote Republican or Democrat, as long as you vote for their Republican or Democrat(s).
Now, clearly it is impossible to vote for two or three candidates in the same race... so who is it that would have us be so confused?
BOMA SFIE PAC, aka the Building Owners and Managers Association, aka The Man.
As far as I can recall, these three candidates were very very mum prior to June 3 on Prop. 98, which would have phased out rent control. Prop. 98 failed, and several prominent candidates in D3, frontrunner David Chiu and my onetime benefactor Tony Gantner among them, opposed Prop. 98.
D3 is ridiculously crowded as it is, and it looks like Chiu is going to take the whole damn thing -- he's received most of the endorsements -- but if you were looking for some people to oppose, for no other reason than they take money from landlords and building owners, here you go.
"Vote for someone -- no no not them! Him? No! Her? Ok. Him -- alright, fine, too. But not HIM!"
Public restroom report card #2
Today my travels and travails took me to The Panhandle.
View Larger Map
In said Panhandle, there's a little garden, some basketball courts, and of course, a shitter.
Normally, having a public pee and poo hole in a public park is bad news. It attracts all sorts of people, the kind of folk who might not have homes, see, and would use above receptacle to recept... aw, fuck it. You know -- homeless people fuck shit up, dammit!
But considering I routinely empty my bladder in public, I wasn't about to be so shy as to not run in and deposit my morning coffee. I did, and then as soon as some balding guy who kept giving me odd looks left, I walked around and took some photos.
And what did I see!
View Larger Map
There it is, woot.
In said Panhandle, there's a little garden, some basketball courts, and of course, a shitter.
Tinkle tinkle.
Normally, having a public pee and poo hole in a public park is bad news. It attracts all sorts of people, the kind of folk who might not have homes, see, and would use above receptacle to recept... aw, fuck it. You know -- homeless people fuck shit up, dammit!
But considering I routinely empty my bladder in public, I wasn't about to be so shy as to not run in and deposit my morning coffee. I did, and then as soon as some balding guy who kept giving me odd looks left, I walked around and took some photos.
And what did I see!
Mr. Clean's been here!
Seriously, this place sparkled. This is something else. Let's continue.
Clean!
I'm not kidding. Either Rec and Park JUST cleaned it, the cleanest people in town shit here, or... damn, I don't know.
Not a spec of residue anywhere in the john, not a lot of graffy, smelt like a public building, not a privvy.
In short:
Grade: A -- and a big seal of approval.
Not a spec of residue anywhere in the john, not a lot of graffy, smelt like a public building, not a privvy.
In short:
Grade: A -- and a big seal of approval.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Covering all the bases or I support the everything
Seeing as how it's Elect a Supervisor time here in St. Francis Town, it's hard not to walk down a city street without seeing a campaign sign hung from a window. Sometimes, you can't help but not see several signs hanging from windows -- sometimes the same window. Sometimes, competitors share the same window.
I always wondered how it is a candidate gets a merchant to hang his or sign. Was there a stump speech? A bribe? A healthy tip in the tip jar?
The more I think about it, the more I think, 'No. Someone just handed them a fucking sign.'
Here are some examples.
Three competing supe candidates, a Peace Mom for Peace, and a Pacific Gas & Electric Co special, on a coffee shop door. Why not? It's a Big Tent.
In District 3, we have three out of 9, or 33.3333333 percent on one corner.
Three, from left to right. Does Joe's sign's sagging mean anything for the son of an Alioto?
I always wondered how it is a candidate gets a merchant to hang his or sign. Was there a stump speech? A bribe? A healthy tip in the tip jar?
The more I think about it, the more I think, 'No. Someone just handed them a fucking sign.'
Here are some examples.
Three competing supe candidates, a Peace Mom for Peace, and a Pacific Gas & Electric Co special, on a coffee shop door. Why not? It's a Big Tent.
In District 3, we have three out of 9, or 33.3333333 percent on one corner.
Three, from left to right. Does Joe's sign's sagging mean anything for the son of an Alioto?
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Social Worker, plain and... badass
Is it some sort of requirement for social workers to be ex-cons, hard and caring as fuck?
This gentleman was one of the workers from the newly-reopened Walden House, attending a usual Tuesday presser at City Hall.
Hardcore head.
It also came to my attention I saw an Obamacar and didn't post Obamacar.
So there you go.
This gentleman was one of the workers from the newly-reopened Walden House, attending a usual Tuesday presser at City Hall.
Hardcore head.
It also came to my attention I saw an Obamacar and didn't post Obamacar.
So there you go.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Gavin's got a brand-new ride?
And it's more fuel-efficient than a Volkswagen?
Leave it to this guy to drive a Green SUV (ok, it's black-painted, but you know what I mean).
Today at the Union Bank of California's something-or-other, Gavin exited the proceedings and hopped into what appears to be a new ride -- a shiny new Chevrolet Tahoe Hybrid SUV.
SUV? In the green city? Boo! But wait!
Lest we heap hate on the Gavster for being a gas-guzzler, consider: the normal Mayoral whip, a Lincoln Town Car, gets 15 mpg in the city. The SUV? 20 mpg, a cool 5 mpg better than the stinkin' Lincoln.
Plus, you can fit way more mayoral friends in the Tahoe. Think there might even be room for Chris Daly and Rose Pak? Nah, me neither.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
"You might think so, but you are in fact mistaken" #1
Today, about 12 noon, as I sit in the sunshine outside a coffee shop to use the Internet cos I don't have it at home, looking up phone numbers so I can leave messages because I don't have an office (or at least one I can use in between assignments without wasting an hour on Muni), right after having left the fifth in about 15 messages to the police spokesman, trying to get a quote for a newspaper story that would eventually spiked (didn't get the right quote, see), I am seated next to a painter. Exchange goes as follows:
Me: (on phone) This is C, reporter from etc, blah blah blah blah blah blah
Painter: Reporter, huh? Must be cool.
Me: (who makes 550 a week, with car in shop needing repairs he cannot afford to make, sitting outside cos he doesn't have internet in his one-bathroom home which he shares with three other people, too broke to move) ::silent::
Painter: But at least you must get laid a lot?
That's two-for-two, relaxed-looking pony-tailed painter man. Wanna trade jobs?
Could always be worse, though.
Me: (on phone) This is C, reporter from etc, blah blah blah blah blah blah
Painter: Reporter, huh? Must be cool.
Me: (who makes 550 a week, with car in shop needing repairs he cannot afford to make, sitting outside cos he doesn't have internet in his one-bathroom home which he shares with three other people, too broke to move) ::silent::
Painter: But at least you must get laid a lot?
That's two-for-two, relaxed-looking pony-tailed painter man. Wanna trade jobs?
Could always be worse, though.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
49ers know where the fans are
The SF 49ers are popular through much of the greater Bay Area, which according to them includes a place called Santa Mateo County.
Observe.
While looking to see who I'd bug to get into a game free of charge just for holding a camera, I stumbled upon this on their "These are the places where we'll send an old infirm star to barbecues and youth football practices" page.
Map reproduced below, bigger size. See, says Santa.
Observe.
While looking to see who I'd bug to get into a game free of charge just for holding a camera, I stumbled upon this on their "These are the places where we'll send an old infirm star to barbecues and youth football practices" page.
Map reproduced below, bigger size. See, says Santa.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I've been too busy to post...
...with this new job.
Pays about the same, and I don't have to shower.
Fuck you.
Pays about the same, and I don't have to shower.
Fuck you.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Hey, I witnessed history today
Sometimes the job sucks. Nobody calls you back, high school kids treat you like dirt, you lose your self respect and then a Muni train runs over your foot.
But some days, like today, for example, you get up early, you find a parking spot, and you witness history -- all before 9 a.m.
Stuart Gaffney and John Lewis, first in line at City Hall to receive a same-sex marriage license.
Who was he talkin' to? Duh -- God.
That kid in the middle? The state made an honest couple outta her Daddy and her Poppa. Fuck yeah.
Rejoice, gentlemen. That's a very significant piece a paper.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
I hate street fairs
I hate them.
Hate them (but this guy was friendly enough)
Hate them (all these guys were douches)
Hate them (this band made my tinnitus worse)
Fuck. Why do I hate these things so much? Well, they're crowded by asshat scenesters, they're utterly homogeneous events with the same bbq, same tents, same booths and -- in a lot of cases -- same people at each and every one. And inevitably, I have to be the one sober guy, toting a camera through the crowd, trying to find enough PG-13 images to fill a page in some raggedy-ass paper.
That'd be why I hate these things so fucking much.
Attention, street fairs: Go away, never come back. Fuck off and die while you're at it.
Happy Sunday!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Mark it
While we wait for election results to trickle in, we take a moment to gloat.
In case you can't see -- cos, dammit, Blogger, why is that so small?? -- that's some history on the browser.
In case you can't see -- cos, dammit, Blogger, why is that so small?? -- that's some history on the browser.
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