Sometime in the late 90s, when I lived in Vancouver and my brother lived in San Francisco, the two of us decided to test the limits of human patience and drive down the West Coast to Mexico. Barreling through California at 90 mph, braving 105 degree heat with no air conditioning, and slogging through an almost interminable 3 am traffic jam to cross Los Angeles, we finally made it to San Diego in the early morning after driving the entire night. We laughed as we merely "crossed into" Baja California and the planet's most famous border town, Tijuana!
I was already familiar with the perverse dance of the World Famous Donkey Show. As the carnival barkers lined up along the streets advertising their particular grift, I decided that it would be our mission to seek out this most taboo of entertainment. Barging through throngs of slack-shouldered San Diego college trash, we finally were enticed into a bar with the promise of a unique exhibition. A post-pregnant Mestiza, with round eyes that looked like two teacups full of saltwater, and long, deep stretchmarks resembling a butcher's notes, was gyrating vulgarly on the stage. We sat at the bar and ordered drinks. The total came to $11 and I gave the bartender a $50. He returned a $5. I was too green to know what was going on, and asked my brother to help me find the money I had dropped.
As the night wore on, the illusory donkey/recipient spectacle did not materialize, and I left dejected.
Two days later, after winding through the hell-pitched canyons of La Rumorosa all the way to Mexicali, we ate at a Chinese restaurant. The Chinese waitress spoke Spanish, but no English, and I experienced culture shock for the first time. I ate a plate of garbage dump lettuce fried in a bath of shitty wok-water. It was the worst meal I've ever had.
As we waited to cross back into the U.S., I stared at the dust-beaten faces of the water and flower sellers trudging through the line to freedom, and thought to myself how lucky I was to not live in a shit-hole like Mexico.
Last night, White Lung and School Jerks played a secret show under a train bridge on the bank of the Don River. The seed for the show germinated one night while Luke and I were driving back to the East End. We juggled around the idea of doing a show at the Spit, or on the abandoned Eastern Ave bridge. Luke said he would get a "bike car" and coordinate, and that he knew the perfect spot. I was skeptical (Luke has "Born to Lose" tattooed on his arm). When I came back from Northern Ontario with White Lung and realized that he did, in fact, have things in order, the same faint palpitations that I felt in my heart 10-odd years prior began to drum again.
When the torrent of rain parted last night, as if by god, the crowd amassed under the tarry girders. Roman candles were shot into screaming faces, and amps thundered under blankets of visqueen, as 75-or-so drunk clowns got covered in sand and rain. The whole thing resembled a tent revival backdropped by the Do Long Bridge scene from Apocalypse Now.
To make an unnecessarily long story short, last night was like a real, live donkey show, but instead of child-bearing Mexicans getting raped by randy burros, the donkeys all had instruments and the crowd was both spectator and participant.
My camera sucks in the dark, but I like the pic below (click it). Jtran took some pics too.
Murder Media April 5, 2010
After a month of dealing with pentagon espionage and subterfuge seemingly lifted from the pages of a John le Carré novel, Wikileaks just followed up on their threat (an hour ago) to publish a decrypted 2007 video of a U.S. apache helicopter attack that resulted in a shit-ton of collateral damage in Iraq. You would think that a pentagon cover-up of civilian murder and the killing of two Reuters journalists would be sell-able news for the network, but every single major site, including our sad-sack excuses for news coverage in Canada, have nary a mention. Pervert Tiger Woods is front-and-center. Where can you find updated coverage of what would appear to be the most newsworthy story of the year? Good ol' terrorist media haven Al Jazeera! Congratulations to Al Jazeera for being the only media source with ethical grounding anymore (your Fault Lines series is awesome, btw).
Wikileaks has a project site already set up, and it's the best source of information at the moment. Don't forget to donate. It takes money and support to keep this sort of site alive.
The video will probably be gone in another hour, but here it is anyway:
Here's a mirror:
Foursquares March 19, 2010
RBCP and the gang over at PLA Radio do a good job skewering the mindless idiots broadcasting every mundane detail of their miserable existences to the world with geolocation-based social networking services like Foursquare and Gowalla. What is this fucking nonsense, you might ask? Think Twitter, but even more inane! Foursquare, the most popular service so far, caters to all those vacuous nobs you see traipsing down the sidewalk with iPhones glued to their fingers as they bump into your dog or your baby carriage, or spill their latte on your shoes. It entangles physical movement in a virtual spiderweb of bullshit, as people broadcast their location minute after minute, hour after hour, and day after day. Now, the dull can announce where a crowd might form to catch a glimpse of their precious movements. Not surprisingly, Ashton Kutcher is a fan. Brown-nosers like this jerkoff - Chris Tindal, who I have the misfortune of sharing a city with - have even figured out how to use Foursquare in their neverending ascent up the career/social ladder. And as if Twitter wasn't bad enough in the first place, some of the big social networks are poised to get in on this orgy of attention-seeking as well. How exciting! Thankfully, alternative services like Please Rob Me have provided a little inertia.
Chris Tindal, and all the rest of you jackals shitting up the tubes with the banal details of your lives... I can only hope that some brave samaritan will smash the autographed Richard Florida poster on your wall, or take a leak on your Macbook Pro, while you're "signed in" at City Hall, or Starbucks, or Whole Foods.