Mission Mission

Tree from the Free Farm Stand poses a revolutionary idea:

I must admit I like all the attention the free farm stand is getting, but I hope people connect with one of the ideas that I am trying to promote, which is to get away from the business model of doing things. It is about the crazy notion that there is more to life than making a living. That it can be totally wonderful to be a helpful person in the world in whatever way we can. For me one of those things is gardening and sharing my enthusiasm for growing food and flowers with others, turning others onto the idea of slowing down a bit and spending time with dirt and trees. And giving away any extra stuff, be it the too many things I collect or the extra food I grow does bring me joy.

He goes on to make a dozen or more other great points that genuinely for a second make me want to quit my job and grow beets. Link.

Tomorrow morning, I’m embarking on a long trip to the Midwest (so keep an eye on the neighborhood for me), but before I go, I get to see one of my favorite bands from the Midwest play right around the corner at the Knockout. Brimstone Howl is their name, they’re from Lincoln, and they kind of sound like the Misfits but look way less retarded. Listen to the song “Heart Attack” on their MySpace page if you want to have your mind blown. Some other bands are playing too, but these guys go on first I think, so I’ll be there early if you want to come wish me a fond farewell.

Photo courtesy of Alive Records.

On Friday, Animal posted this shot of a mobile guard tower currently deployed in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. By applying the Panopticon principle (thanks, Alex) to sketchy neighborhood intersections, the NYPD hopes to curtail rising crime rates. Got us thinking. The other day, Mitch (Mission resident since 1991) delivered the following rant about about one of our own sketchy intersections:

what about 16th & Mission? How the hell is that blight allowed to exist? [...] crackheads and prostitutes. out in the open, plain as day, 24/7. in what reality is that shit OK? and who WOULDN’T want that shit gone? and why isnt it gone?

Now, I guarantee that Mitch doesn’t support Orwellian shit of any kind — and nor does anyone we’d dare associate with — so what’s the real solution? And hypothetically, were the SFPD to install a collapsible privacy-invasion turret in the heart of the Mission, what would happen?

Previously on Mission Mission:

Cops Cruise Right Up Onto the Sidewalk

Mission Wackos vs. Pier 39 Fanny Packs: Open Letter to SFPD

I will never understand! (via Hamburger Eyes)

“A homosexual’s perspective,” by Myles, who loves Meryl Streep and Abba as much as we do. (via Imsoooconfused)

Tonight, Root Division at 17th and SVN hosts a very special event:

What happens when both professional and first time filmmakers pledge to spend 30 days creating 3-Minute masterpieces? Find out at the 6th Annual 3-Minute Film Festival Black Tie Gala and Film Screening, the August edition of Root Division’s monthly Second Saturday Series.

Link. In addition to the screenings, comedy duo Andrew Lowder and Jeff Cleary will perform. Cleary says, “I can’t give away anything about the performance, but let me just say, there’s never been a life-coach who’s seen the act and not fallen over dead.” Note that the “black tie” thing is no joke.

The latest entry at WTF? OMFG! is called Mission District: Are You Kidding? and asks of the writer behind this bit of sidewalk graffiti, “How can you miss something that hasn’t gone away, whatsoever?” The rest of the rant is pretty choice too.

Missed Connection between my face and your boot:

Did you beat me up Friday night? – 27 (mission district)

(this is not a romantic listing) Friday around 4:30pm I started drinking at Zeitgeist. I don’t think I was drinking heavily, but probably started a little early. Better get some food to soak up some of the alcohol, I thought. So me and friend hit Aslom’s Rasoi for some tasty Indian food. Then we went back to his place around the corner and drank large amounts of liquor. This is where my memory temporarily stops.

I actually *did* believe, before opening the link, that it was romantic listing. So I’m a little sad about that. I do applaud him for trying to stay on an even keel with the help of some fart-inducing food — but beer before liquor!?

The next memory I have is me stumbling down the street with puke on my sleeve, dirt all over and feeling pretty grumpy. I got a cab from the Castro Bank of America and didn’t notice until the next morning that my jaw was swollen as hell and I had a black eye.

And now you’re that guy who ruins my great night in the Mission because I have to step around your massive pile of spicy-smelling vomit. Congratulations.

I can live with the swollen and bruised face, but not knowing how I got it is really eating me. I’m left to fill in the blanks on my own and I’m afraid I may have been a total jerk, or possibly just fell down some stairs?

I was wearing a white and gray striped sweater and had on a brown hat.

I love when stereotypes come true.

So, if you kicked my a$$ (or saw me get it kicked), why not take credit for it and let me know. I would really like to know what I did/said in order to receive this masterpiece beating.

I think this guy is leaving out a lot. This has probably happened before. I witness this every Friday night in the Mission — some young dude wearing a striped sweater and a hat (probably corduroy or knit with that little half bill that tough guys think make them look sensitive) vomits in the street, gets in a fight, and acts like it’s OK to turn a great neighborhood into the Vegas Strip.

P.S. Are you a ninja?

Maybe I kicked his ass because he says stupid shit like “Are you a ninja”?

Previously on Mission Mission:

Dick Cabbie Robs Fare, Leaves Her Curbside, Battered and Phoneless

‘Hamlet’ with Zeitgeist Employees

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12 Galaxies is closing later this month. This is horseshit. For the Mission to be devoid of a venue for serious touring bands is for me to die a little. Slim’s is fine and Bottom of the Hill is okay, but they’re SO far away — and god forbid we have to go to Bimbo’s. Might as well drive to Sacramento.

At 12 Galaxies, I’ve seen the Fucking Champs play “Auld Lang Syne” on New Year’s Eve, I’ve seen Robbie Fulks play Michael Jackson’s “Black or White” just because, I’ve seen Sugar & Gold joyously celebrate the release of a rad record years and years in the making, I’ve seen Jay Reatard positively slay the audience even though his set was literally like 12 minutes long, I’ve seen some great graffiti about your mom, I’ve seen a bummed-looking Judah Bauer play to a crowd of five, I’ve taken elbows to the face in the pit, and I’ve loved every second of all of it. Even though it’s only been around for a few years, it feels like a legitimate institution. So, if somebody with money to burn wants to buy it and keep it going, we would support that.

If not, by way of tribute, here’s a cheesy blurb I wrote about the place a couple years ago when I was doing some contract work for an internet travel guide:

Part Mission District dive, part world-class concert venue, 12 Galaxies hosts local and nationally touring rock bands almost every night of the week. Its run-down facade recalls Mission Street’s theater-lined heyday of years past. Inside, you’ll find a well-stocked bar, a grill serving wings and jambalaya, and a charmingly cave-like performance space. Seating is limited, but the dancefloor is ample and a second-floor mezzanine provides ideal sightlines for those less inclined to brave the bumping-and-grinding crowd below. 2006 saw the inauguration of a bigger, taller stage, putting the club on par with any number of the city’s foremost live-music haunts. As such, on any given night, you’ll be happy to see hometown favorites like the Passionistas and Comets On Fire share the bill with rock superstars such as the Black Lips and the Heartless Bastards. See website for event calendar, online ticketing and more.

Go with God, old friend. (via SFist)

Image from previous Mission Mission post 12 Galaxies Wraparound Mezzanine Perfect Vantage Point from which to Observe Toby Dammit’s Percussatory Chops.

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