Meet Phil Theriot author The Ghetto Cookbook. I met him on a bench in North Beach's Washington Square Park today. He spent a few minutes telling me about his new book, his girl and his producer position at ABC.
Around 1:38 he sprays a bit of saliva on my lens.
He offered me a bite of his pizza. I politely declined.
It has been awhile since I have posted... I guess I've been busy. And I hate to re-enter the posting scene with this unsavory entry. But it has been a slow news week... you know, with the elections, Iraq, North Korea and Tom-Kat.
I was having a dinner at a friend's house and the chatter moved to odd habits and just the weird things that people are into. Not crazed meth-fuel BDSM and such, but more subtle things like, toenail picking fetishes, eyebrow obsessions and eyewax eating. She confided in me a rather interesting, uh, interest. She is into popping things. Not real estate bubbles or packing material, but zits, cysts and other human popable things. She was literally on the edge of her seat talking about the rush of listening to a friend talking about popping a big zit.
To help her out, I fired up The Google and did a little sleuthing. And, Marduke bless the internet, I found a solid resource to keep her deep in the popping. May I introduce... Pop That Zit.
A quick perusal was a bit distasteful... and further research proved sickening. I'm not too sure, but I think this one is the guy from American Movie. One for the road....
From my friend Alicia
... a rant on the state of network news with a focus on Walter Cronkite. Misspellings and unique sentence structure are maintained.
Wow- you would of really appreciated the doc I just saw about Walter
Cronkite- fucking amazing, prob one of the only Americans I truely
learned that the Govt licences the news via TV unlike newpapers, very
interesting in this day-- The Nixon administration threatened to take
Cronkite and CBS down after Walter shed his opinion and actually
brought the attention to the nation about Watergate. He fought for
freedom of press, I mean this dude had a true passion for telling
America the truth about the state of the nation especially re:
Vietnam.. I never saw any footage from the famous Chicago Democratic
convention and all the police brutalities against the demonstrators
outside those rooms- then the brutality of news anchors by guards in
the convention ie Dan Rather- then Walter's brutally honest live
commentary on it. He was THE ONLY ANCHOR to every show his true being
and heartfelt emotions on TV- His broadcasts of Man on the Moon,
Keneddy shooting and the stories that followed, his being on the
frontline in Vietnam and having the soldiers tell the truth about the
war and how it was bullshit... fucking emotional shit. News today,
except for maybe MacNeil/Lehar Report and 60 Minutes, is fucking
BULLSHIT. None of the important shit that we the public deserve to know
is being presented to us, and there's noone in news today that actually
has that same passion that he did to dig further into stories to
discover the truth. Instead we get absolutly ridiculous news such
as**"The Crocidle Hunter wife's mourning"* WHAT?!?!?!... UM HELLO WE'VE
BEEN AT WAR FOR 5 YEARS, HOW ABOUT A FUCKING UPDATE ON THAT?!?!?!
to say it got me all worked up. I'm really disappointed at the majority
of idiots in this country today-how blind everyone seems to be and how
noone is taking action. It's people like Cronkite that makes me proud
to be an American- I have NEVER said those words...
"If you live here, expect to hang out with your roommates and do hip shit. You have to act the part, not just look it."
As usual, a lunch-time perusal of craigslist turns up gold. Seems that the coolest kids in San Francisco are looking for an equally-hip roomie. Their ad is perfect in every way. Fixies, PBR, thrift stores, black and white photography, lomography, Amoeba, Zeitgeist, Delirium, indie, poetry, film, emo-fusion, bike messenger, bartender. It is a virtual shotgunned pinata of hipster key words.
The closing: Convince us that you're hip enough to live at our place.
(PS: I'm fairly certain this is a very well done fake post tooling on Mission hipsters.)
"One of the things I find
irritating is when developers give new suburban housing developments
these ridiculous names that attempt to convey that the subdivision is
some kind of pristine mountain utopia where only the priviliged dwell." DenverInFill reveals the names of the beasts.
This evening I had the opportunity to speak with four marines that had recently returned from Iraq. Those of you that know me (all three of you) know that I am staunchly against the war in Irag and the entire Bush machine. Indeed, I think it may be the undoing of our entire country - our Big Mistake. But, hey, that's just me reading the news and making my own decisions.
So I was at Chevy's eating nachos and having a beer before a movie. Behind me, four loud, big white guys discussed sports or something with raised voices, flailing arms and a general rough machismo. I shook my head (internally, of course) and wrote it off to Bud Light-fueled bravado.
I nursed my 22oz. Dos Equis and listened to the discussion complimenting myself on my liberal, upper middle class attitude and self-concious erudite arrogance. "Meatheads", I thought.Then a guy came in sporting a V for Vendetta mask. He had just come the World Can't Wait rally and wanted a flauta or something. Somehow or another he started chatting with the four large, white guys with serious crew cuts... and it came out that he (the mask guy) was at the anti-war rally and the cro-mags were straight outta Bagdhad. They had just gotten off a tour of duty.
It was on.
This one semi-literate but well-meaning peacenik was face-to-face with the real-life embodiement of everything against which he was protesting. The four towering Marines encircled the feeble liberal and began The Questioning. "You got a job? You like living in America? Why do you hate our country? Are you a commie/faggot?" The guy stood his ground for awhile but with only mass-produced anti-Bush slogans and vague 'war is bad' arguements. He was withering under the ceaseless and deafening firepower of four Marines trained in the art of shouting down dissent with loud voices rather than crafted arguements. He didn't have a chance.
I already had a beer in me... and I was feeling the stirrings of something. It has been easy sitting here writing about the Bush Administration and the war in Iraq. No one is going to punch me in the face here at home. But here I had the chance to actually talk to the people that had been in Iraq, on the front lines. And risk an actual confrontation. I ordered another beer, took a deep breath and entered the fray.
I felt confident with the overall discussion and had trust in my arguements and points. I wasn't worried so much of 'winning' as I was actually making a good point and getting my ass kicked for it. These were, like, fucking Marines, man. Fuck. So I weighed in... entered the firefight with a flower in my rifle barrel.
And it wasn't that bad. These guys did spout out a lot of Rumsfeld propaganda, but they were also ready to discuss the situation in general with a manageble degree of prejudice. I heard a story from one fella about an IED packed with C4 placed next to a school and how his patrol dismantled it. I made points about the money wasted and how it could have gone to much better use (healthcare, seniors, education). They discussed fighting the 'terrorists' on their turf rather than the streets of Atlanta or someplace and I made my favorite 'well, stop fucking with them' arguement. (Otherwise known as The Hornet's Nest Theory).
While I chatted amiably with one of the guys, the three other Marines had the protester backed into a corner and continued to shower him with sharp questions. From what I could overhear, the protester fellow's general understanding of the conflict was shallow and simple and his rhetorical skills were far from polished. The Marines kept pounding him and he began to cave.
At the same time, I had engaged the other Marine in an honest, open debate. Well-presented questions, actual original insight and intelligent counters... It was just me and him, face-to-face with cold beers in hand. After the chat, we expressed our appreciation for the talk. Not so much because one of us "won", but because our discussion was free from the poison of media involvement and radical right/left insults and derogatory verbiage. We were just two guys talking.
And I think this is why the war in iraq (indeed, any heated issue) has become such a mean-spirited slug-fest. With the media egging us on - pushing us into crisply boxed political camps - we fight with extremes. We fight the 'either you are with us, or against us' battle - a conflict that no one ever wins. While the three other marines and one know-nothing protester shouted back and forth from their respective flags, the lone marine and I had a pretty deep chat. It really reflected the current state of discourse in this country... millions of dumb kids yelling at each other, throwing slogans and insults like brush-back fastballs while rational, educated adults actually discuss the issues. And listen to each other. Of course, one makes for good TV, the other doesn't pull the ratings.
I would have liked to stayed and chatted as I think it would have been a learning experience for us all. But I had to see Maggie Gyllenhaal's boobs in Sherrybaby.
Prediction #344 Watch Tecate become the new beer of choice for hipster kids across the nation. Not content with co-opting the working-class American beer, Pabst Blue Ribbon, the cool kids are migrating to the hispanic working-class beer - Tecate. I've seen a couplesigns and there are sure to be more.
Band Name of the Day: My Baby Wants To Eat Your Pussy From their website
MY BABY WANTS TO EAT YOUR PUSSY
do not want to arouse interest only with a striking name – there’s nothing about
this band, that does NOT draw everybodys attention to them! With a barefaced
smile, this dazzling shell opens up to present her chiselled pearl to a glazed
and simple-minded, though still opulently weird generation. As if it was a
matter of course, this gathering of mentally unique characters makes themselves
a legend. An artistic and catchy middle finger to everything, that has been
before. MY BABY WANTS TO EAT YOUR PUSSY
celebrate the otherness and sacrifice themselves to pop and style.
Someone download this and tell me how it is. Thanks!