Mission Mission

I’m not sure if we’re talking about the bike or Vic Wong, but it’s fun to watch them spill.

Related:

Another Video of Vic Wong Falling Off a Bike

In this video, Lesch from the California Honeydrops (with bonus Quinn Deveaux on the tub bass!) talks about playing music in BART stations. I was really interested to hear how he has found that he could tell exactly what kind of day the passengers have had just by looking at their faces.

As a daily commuter, I know regularly I barrel past buskers without even giving them a glance, even if I really dig what they’re doing. Maybe it’s because I think I’m in a hurry. Maybe it’s because I really have had a shitty day. Or maybe it’s because I don’t have any singles or I don’t feel like tipping. At any rate, I think I’ll be more conscious of it in the future.

There, now aren’t you glad that dude’s balls are no longer the topmost post? I am.

Here’s the rather obscure Vertigo snippet that Roger Ebert alluded to yesterday. So there you have it, in 1958 the Mission was considered “Skid Row”. Either that, or Hitchcock was a total wuss. In any case, we’re renaming the blog to “Skid Row Skid Row”.

Mock Duck posted a higher quality .mov of it in the original thread.

Previously:

Ebert Thinks the Mission is SF’s ‘Skid Row’

If somebody had told me the Walk Against Rape was really a Dance Against Rape, I might’ve joined the ranks. (I love to dance.)

Filmmaker Joshua Grannell (sometimes known as Peaches Christ) sat down with me to talk a little about one of his favorite Mission haunts, The Victoria Theatre.

Joshua’s feature film, a dark comedy shot in our very neighborhood, All About Evil, premieres as part of the 53rd San Francisco International Film Festival on May 1st at the Castro Theater. It will be a wild, live extravaganza that sounds basically like the mother of all Midnight Masses. Get tickets here and get them fast! This thing is hot!

Watch a clip of the movie here.

Part one of two.

UPDATE: Jason says that advance tickets have been gone for a minute. I may have old info. In any case, look for other live shows at The Victoria in the near future, and in the meantime you can go to the pre-party on April 30th at The Stud Bar.

Check out this blast from the recent past. Calling All Monsters are sadly no longer with us, but their music video for “We Are Special Forces” is.

Lead singer Matthew Troy (formerly of local band Track Star and current co-owner of local shop Faye’s Video) and I lived in an apartment on Guerrero near 18th and the basement (which had some interesting history that I’ll save for a later post) served as the location for this video about the real band breaking up a party with an imposter band.

Who knows, you may recognize some of your friends at this party.  Plus, watch me get shot in the head while shredding on guitar.

Directed by Akira Boch and Francisco Hernandez.

I wonder how much we could get for Dolores. I mean, with such sub-par playground facilities, maybe Nike wouldn’t even be interested. Maybe the best we could do is Skechers.

[via kkr]

Previously:

Drunk in Japan

Burritos in Japan

Everybody loves parades.  The Rose Parade, Dykes on Bikes; hell, Disneyland has a parade every single day.  And street festivals are all about revolution, taking back the pavement from automobiles and the insidious forces that promote their ubiquitous role in society.  Predictably then, the Cesar Chavez Parade and Festival was an obvious hit, marrying both concepts into a union that even the Mormons would have a difficult time de-legitimizing.

This fellow was particularly enthused to be part of the action.  Since they apparently wouldn’t let him be part of the lo rider escort team, rolling with the mobile mariachi unit was the next logical choice.  Oh, but you don’t have to litter, guys!

The unions also got to strut their stuff, which was probably the whole point when this celebration was initially conceived.  It was educational, too, since I previously had no idea that there was in fact a linoleum union.

As expected, the postal union continued their stagnant march ahead, blissfully unaware that the Post Office will probably be bankrupt in two years, having chosen to subsidize environment-wrecking mass catalog distribution and junk mail companies by resorting to steadily increasing the cost of postage for you and me to send simple letters, rather than attempting to creatively integrate the internet age into operations.

It’s unfortunate that it costs 44 cents for us to send a simple one-page letter in the mail, but Ikea (or pick whatever corporation you want) gets to clog your box with massive tomes that you will probably just forward directly to the recycling bin, and they only have to pay a mere penny or two to send each one.  Trees get chopped to supply all the paper, much of which often finds its final resting place in landfills.  All the while the USPS keeps hemorrhaging money without knowing why.  But arguing about snail mail on the internet is a tired affair, and I digress.  Plus, we’ve still got to get to the street festival!

(more…)

Maybe if the UK wasn’t banning American Apparel’s fun all the time, its tights-loving citizenry wouldn’t lose their minds so bad.

Good thing we don’t have to worry about anything like this happening in the Mission.

Also, what’s with those sissy bobbies? SFPD would have fucked that guy up!

(Thanks, Al!)