Who knew watching cold treats dissolve would be so entertaining? Is The Life & Death of Ice Cream about the temporal nature of existence...or is it simply an ode to lost Creamsicles? Next up from the geniuses at MindPie: this is the way the grass grows?

OK, the dancing bird is almost up to 1 million views: what does that say about YouTube viewers? Silly animal tricks slay 'em every time.

By Justin Juul

Doesn't it sometimes seem like the world is working against you? It's bad enough those days when you wake up feeling like shit for no reason, but it really sucks when things just get worse from there. And it's always their fault, isn't it? The dickhead at the liquor store forgets to stock your brand of cigarettes. Some yuppie in a fancy car nearly runs you off the road. Your manager fires you, your landlord evicts you, your friends diss you. Sometimes other people are just too much to bear. Don't you wish you could just make them all disappear for a while? Or better yet, don't you wish you could disappear?

I mean let's face it, even if you could temporarily get rid of all those other assholes, you'd still be stuck with the biggest asshole in the world: yourself.

Keep reading ...

When the wheel of contentment begins to rotate downward, most of us turn to drugs, go into workaholic mode or -- for those who can afford it -- go on a vacation. But all that stuff is too predictable and it often leaves us feeling worse. What if there was a way to temporarily disconnect from life without any of the usual consequences?

Well, if you've ever seen Altered States, you know all about sensory deprivation chambers, those weird water-tanks psychology students use to study brain chemistry or whatever. It's supposed to be the coolest experience in the world, something like meditating on acid.

In a deprivation chamber you are utterly alone. Your body is suspended in warm Epsom-water, your ears are submerged so you can't hear a thing, and it's totally dark, odorless, and soundproof. After a minute or two in an isolation-tank, the entire world melts away and you're left with raw brain waves. Outside of a bad ketamine trip, it's the most detached experience humanly possible. Sounds great right? The only problem is that the tanks are hard to get access to unless you work in a medical lab or live in Spain or London where they've become fashionable for some reason. Not anymore.

The owners of FLOAT, an urban art gallery in Oakland, got their hands on some tanks a couple years ago and are offering their services to the public. A psychedelic dip in one of FLOAT's tanks is the perfect cure for those post holiday-with-the-family blues. Just strap on some Speedos, shut your eyes, and forget about those assholes (and yourself) for a while.

New Year Package at FLOAT – 3 Floats for the Price of 2 ($140.00)
1091 Calcot Place, #116 Oakland
510-535-1702
www.thefloatcenter.com

It's soooo stupid! But yes, I'm totally wetting my pants over the new trailer for Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay. As a swarthy gay arab who once got called "Osama" in Ohio (and "Apu" in Utah), I feel it's my honor-bound duty. Plus I'm kinda hot for both of them.

Alas! I'll have to wait until April 25 to see it in theatres. Counting. Every. Second.

I know that Science Of Sleep, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and umpteen hyperreal, DIYish music videos director Michel Gondry is just SO DAMN PRECIOUS, but his new movie Be Kind Rewind, planned for release on February 22 looks like a real hoot.

In it Jack Black's brain gets mysteriously magnetized (if only that could happen to his screen persona, heh), and erases all the videos in Mos Def's video store. hijinks ensue -- including Black and Def (best duo name ever!) having to re-record all the movies in the store, including Ghostbusters, Robocop, and Driving Miss Daisy. They do this, pathetically hilariously, by "sweding" the films, which Jack Black's character Jerry explains in the movie means "Taking what you like and mixing it with some other things you like thing to make a new thing." Actually, Jerry, that's called a mashup -- or, really, the process of art in general.

Sweding, in fact, seems more like remaking something on a shoestring budget, and Gondry et al seem to be hoping that it will become a viral phenomonon (or at least provide a name for what everyone seems to be doing on YouTube in general, currently collected under the ephemeral umbrella of "video responses.")

You can find a few fun swedes here. Now make your own and let the clever viral marketing begin!

Alas, along with the dispiriting news that people keep getting shot and jumped outside nightclubs, that the police are pushing to "more directly" regulate bars and clubs, and that perennial underground jam palace the Gingerbread Warehouse finally got busted on New Year's Eve, comes this awful fact of 2008: The San Francisco branch (the original) of Trader Vic's is no more.

Trader Vic: Rolling in his rum-soaked grave?

The bar-cum-restaurant -- a 2006 Best of the Bay winner -- had opened in fancier digs (where legendary resto Stars once was) after relocating from the spot where Le Colonial is now, after residing there for 12-odd years. Trader Vic's is now an international chain, so you can still hit up one of those giant cocktails in a bowl to share with friends in Shanghai, but it was built on the reputation of amazing local Victor J. "Trader Vic" Bergeron, who invented the mai tai. No reason has been forthcoming about the closure.

I really liked their space! What will they do with all those antique dugouts hanging from the ceiling?

Oh well, bottoms up. (Also closed in recent weeks: the Washington Square Bar & Grill and the delicious Patisserie on 18th Street. )

Theo Schell-Lambert weighs in with a review of Jason Brown's new book of short stories, out now in paperback:

The title of Jason Brown's Why the Devil Chose New England for His Work promises the text as a collective explanation. Here, in this "linked collection" (all tales have roots in the fictional Vaughn, Maine), we'll find evidence of some native Northeastern immorality, or at least a special inclination to fall. The devil might not demand evil as a prerequisite, but he'd surely want a people who could be swayed.

All I know is, someone recently dropped this little goodie off on my desk (thanks, Chocolate Elf!) .....

... and it's freakin' delicious. The instructions on the back of this "Taza Disco" say: Break one piece chocolate into one cup steaming milk or water and whisk until frothy -- but I just ate the dang thing whole and now I'm the one who's frothy. Sweet lord, organic stone-ground Taza Chocolate rules!

What with tiger attacks, sonic booms killing off arctic life, and leopard and bear near-escapes at the SF Zoo -- not to mention another oil-laden barge crashing into another bay bridge! -- we turn our attention to the Tiergarden Nuernberg zoo, where this little fuzzy wonder popped out.

Sure, it had to be removed from its mother for fear that she would attack it, but we love nature anyway. Here's more.

This week's Lit features Lynn Rapoport writing about Hello-Now, from Everywhere, the new book collection of local artist Veronica De Jesus's memorial drawings.
Late last year, I went to a book-release event at Dog Eared Books, where many of Veronica's drawings grace the front or side window. Veronica gave a powerful lecture explaining the motivation behind the project, then Colter Jacobson and Tomo played music. It was a special night.
Here are a few examples of what you'll find in Veronica's book:

Making it: Car Factory by Walter Kresnik

By Amy Glasenapp

What first struck me at the opening reception of "Finders Keepers" at Creativity Explored on Jan. 10 was the sheer volume of the crowd. By 7:30 p.m., an hour after the reception began, the show looked like a success. Sculptures and prints were being sold left and right, and at the front counter, lines of enthusiastic visitors eager to know more about the art were becoming labyrinthine. People had to push through gaps in the mass to reach the art in the back room.

Since 1983, Creativity Explored has provided a positive environment for adults with developmental disabilities to explore self-expression through different artistic mediums - in this case, recycled objects. Many of the studio artists have sold work and achieved some renown: James Montgomery, who has a show coming up this week at CIIS (California Institute of Integral Studies), is among them. His subjects consist mainly of clock faces and San Francisco landmarks, and in this exhibition you will find these themes in his sculpture, a break from his usual canvas medium.

Another artist whose work I had seen before, Walter Kresnik, surprised me with his Car Factory piece, which is made from wood, fabric, cotton, and a rusty piece of pipe. A whimsical arrangement of multicolored cars unfettered by roads, with thick cotton smog rising from a pipe that looms disproportionately above the compact “factory,” the work makes a clear political statement about pollution and industry.

In college, my Buffy-watching buddies and I used to play the cast-our-friends-as-Buffy-characters game. I'd usually end up as either Faith, the slayer who went to the dark side, or Glory, the evil goddess from Hell. I'm convinced this was partly due to physical resemblance (both are brunettes, and Glory has curls), and partly due to the fact that two of the guys playing the game were former lovers with itty bitty bitter streaks. (Hey, it could've been worse. One of 'em kept casting his current girlfriend as Drusilla, the vampire who was both evil and bat-shit insane.) Either way, I didn't mind much.

I was recently reminded of this game when a friend sent me a link to this blog post comparing GOP presidential candidates to Buffy villains, with striking accuracy (way better than we managed while at Reed). Now I just wish someone would do the same for the Dems.

And even more importantly, I can't wait for the day we get a Willow in office.

(As for who I think I would be? I'm not sure, but I really hope it's not Dawn.)

By Andrea Nemerson

...of presenter and material, anyway. I can’t promise you the other kind, although I’m working on it.

Since I had my kids, I’m forever wishing I could write more about kid-having issues in Alt Sex Column, but of course, ASC readers want to hear about fisting and polyamory, -- not so much with the kiddie stuff. My other regular readers, at a much more mainstream (www.firstwivesworld.com) site than www.sfbg.com will ever aspire to be, want to hear about nicely dating nice men after a maybe not-so-nice divorce.

I think I’ve got it now, though -- Good Vibrations wants me to come in and talk about sex after kids, starting Thursday the 24th at the Berkeley store. I’ll be spinning it more toward the “save your sanity and your relationship” side, and less toward “this is the exact position you should use for this-and-such,” partly because there is no perfect position for thus-and-such, and partly because I believe very firmly that sex is better when your life isn’t falling apart around you. It’s all about still being nice to each other even though everything’s different and there’s a small squalling person demanding all your emotional resources and you’re just...so... tired.

So come see me!

Here's the information:

East Bay Mother's Group "Birth Ways" presents - Good Vibes for Mama’s Own Good!
An evening on Motherhood and Sexuality, a special evening of frank and lively discussion, information, and shopping! Featuring key speakers Andrea Nemerson, Samantha Matalone Cook, and Gina Hassan, Ph.D. Free admission, information and goodies!
Explore and shop during this after hours event for mothers only and get 10% off your total purchase!
For more information or to RSVP contact Birthways or Good Vibrations or email donations@Birthways.org.

Thursday, January 24
7:30 p.m. - 10 p.m.
Good Vibrations Berkeley Store
2504 San Pablo Avenue (at Dwight Way)
Berkeley, CA 94702
(510) 841-8987

I'm not even going to address whether or not Scientology is a religion or a cult, whether anyone should be following it, or even whether Tom Cruise is holding Katie Holmes and her recently unseen soul hostage.

No, I'm just going to say that if you were trying to convince people that Scientology isn't a bunch of science fiction bullshit with its own gibberish language, would you let this guy be your spokesperson?

Click here to watch Defamer's clips from Tom Cruise's much-talked-about Scientology video, and see if you can figure out what the hell he's talking about.

Someone get this writers' strike over with. Tom Cruise should not be allowed to speak his own words out loud.

Yes, even almost more amazing than the fact that one of the spandex-clad New American Gladiators is indeed a gay porn star -- no duh, that's like, totally hot, yo --

Photo courtesy of Fleshbot/Colt Studios

and also even almost more amazing than the fact that he's not yet been implicated in a steroids/HGH investigation, is that fact that mere moments after Steve "Not The Fake Blogger" Jobs unveiled the "ultrathin, ultraportable and ultra unlike anything else" MacBook Air (please please tell me that there's gonna be a MacBook Air Jordan Apple-Nike crossover!), I received a notice in my inbox about it. That's the power of people. That's the power of marketing.

Just do it?

PS -- still waiting on that iTunes Movies marketing push, Appleteers! iGet on it!

By George Chen

Paul F. Tompkins might be a familiar sight, thanks to his appearances on Best Week Ever, The Sarah Silverman Program, and the cult hit Mr. Show (he also toured with the live stage show that came to the Warfield in 2005). But you may not know that he has been performing stand-up for more than 20 years and recently released an album, Impersonal, through A Special Thing, which is only available through iTunes and online mail-order (and Amoeba Los Angeles, if you are in the neighborhood). For those who aren't familiar with his act, Tompkins is a masterful storyteller with an absurdist wit wrapped in a fairly traditional package: he doesn’t work much profanity and wears a three-piece suit. The comic spoke with me on the phone about his upcoming round of performances as part of the SF Sketchfest.

SFBG: I wanted to get some idea about what to expect for the Sketchfest. I know it’s a slightly different format than you just doing regular stand-up. Or is it? "Comedy Death Ray" is something that happens regularly in LA.

Paul F. Tompkins: "Comedy Death Ray" is a regular LA show [at Upright Citizens Brigade Theater]. It’s been going for four or five years now; it’s stand-up and sketch. As far as that goes up in San Francisco, I’m not sure if they have any sketch on tap - I don't even know what I’m going to be doing yet. I might just be doing some stand-up or I might do some kind of sketch with somebody else - I’ve done both on that show. I’ll be doing the "Match Game" live show two nights in a row before that, which is like the old Match Game game show. We did it up there last year, and it was a big hit and a lot of fun so we're doing it again this year.

By Jennique Mason

This documentary film by Sam Wainwright Douglas and Paul Lovelace achieves the unbelievable feat of capturing Greenwich Village’s two most notorious folkies: Steve Weber and Peter Stampfel. In the wake of the Beats and the
dawn of the hippies, the Holy Modal Rounders destroyed what was then the relatively predictable boundaries of the folk genre. Discovered by most through the Easy Rider soundtrack (“If You Wanna Be A Bird”), they stand as the remnants of a generation who knew if Khrushchev and Kennedy would only drop LSD together, there would be world peace. If it’s hoop snake you’re after or you wanna make your own party, at the end of the day in the words of Rounder Harold Reisch, “once you get past the humiliation of it all, there’s some fun to be had.”

Fiddler Peter Stampfel and guitarist Steve Weber forge a bond based on a shared fascination with American roots music and psychedelia.

The Holy Modal Rounders: Bound to Lose plays tonight, 7 p.m. at the Christopher B. Smith Rafael Film Center. Wavy Gravy and co-director Paul Lovelace appear in person.

Technology turns me on. Which is not to say I’m a gadget geek – far from it. In fact, the most advanced piece of equipment I own is a first generation miniPod my ex-boyfriend gave me. But I do think there’s something inherently sexy about Technology with a capital T – all those big, pulsing brains working and sweating late into the night, over and over, to create objects that are not only useful, but also beautiful. And the objects themselves – sleek, smooth, and often warm and humming. What’s not to like?

Dude. DJ Heather B. sure has a nice set of, uh, turn tables. From Merkley's111 Nude Ladies on Sofas at 111 Minna during the EFF anniversary celebration.

This is a truth that just exists for me, the way I know wearing striped socks always makes me smile and seeing horror movies always gives me nightmares. And usually, the technology itself is enough - no extra accessories (lingerie, dinner and a movie, a naked person holding the technology) are necessary to make laptops and iPod-compatible speaker systems seem hot.

But sometimes the planets align in such a way that my tech-fetish gets kicked up a notch or twelve, and Tuesday’s anniversary party for the Electronic Frontier Foundation was just such a night.

The factors?

Speaking of my newest fetish-to-be, the MacBook Air, Cool Hunting has already revealed my very favorite (and OK, the first I've seen,) accessory for it.

Check it out the posting here.

Clever clever! This laptop sleeve (yes, really) is called AirMail. Get it? Get it?

By Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

From the Sundance Film Festival: Midnites for Maniacs programmer and Guardian contributor Jesse Hawthorne Ficks reports on some fest favorites so far.

Aquarium - directed by Rob Meyer (17min)
Even though you've seen Rushmore and Freaks and Geeks, this awkward white kid angst flick delivers exactly what you've come to want. Plus with Kaitlin Kiyan's nuanced ethnic girl-next-door performance, it almost makes-up for the genre's mind-bogglingly racist Su-Chin from current quirkfest Juno.

Sick Sex - directed by Justin Nowell (12min)
Ever thought your lover was lookin' hella hawt while they were sick in bed? This dude does his best to pitch the idea of "sick sex" to his sickly grrrlfriend, resulting in some depressingly hilarious results.

Sikumi (On the Ice) - directed by Andrew Okpeaha MacLean (15min)
This quiet cinematic journey evokes the realism of Nanoonk of the North , enabling the viewer to ponder the purpose of our existence. And that's all in 15 minutes. Someone's gotta give the director the money to turn this thesis project at NYU into a feature film.

Welcome - directed by Kirsten Dunst (12min)
Winona Ryder arrives at her Lost Highway-esque home one night only to experience some pretty freaky sounds happening in all the rooms she's not in. I genuinely jumped out of my skin while watching this creepfest.

Spider - directed by Nash Edgerton (9min)
If you're the kind of boyfriend who loves pulling mini-pranks on your partner, watch this heartbreaking shocker immediately before pissing them off again. I guess this is a comedy -- but Jesus, this movie is traumatizing.

Pariah - directed by Dee Rees (27min)
Not only the best short of the festival, Pariah could be the best film of the festival. Actress Adepero Oduye is hypnotic as a 17-year-old lesbian struggling with her identity at school and at home. Complex dialogue and powerful situations will leave you emotionally wrenched. Plus, Wendell Pierce (Bunk on HBO's The Wire) packs quite a punch as the confused father.

Because Washington is Hollywood for Ugly People - directed by Kenneth Tin-Kin Hung (7min)
Winning best title of the fest, this collage of hyperactive video game footage has meticulously detailed designs of political figures fighting each other while inhabiting celebrity bodies. MC Paul Barman narrates this clusterfuck, bringing it to the level of downright brilliant. Also worth watching is Hung's five minute Gas Zappers.

By Candice Chan

Flaming bras. Typically not my first apparel choice to strut about town, but after attending last night's Hot Couture: A Fusion of Fire and Fashion, put on by The Crucible, I am seriously considering it.

In its 9th anniversary show, the center combines work by local clothing and jewelry designers with impressive blacksmithing – fire-spewing tail spikes, anyone? – to create an incendiary spectacular which ensures that everyone gets a little somethin' somethin'. Think Cirque du Soleil meets Hades meets fashion week in New York.

By Vanessa Carr

This Friday and Saturday nights, the internationally traveling “Yo! What Happened to Peace?” art show comes to San Francisco’s Jack Hanley Gallery. Started in 2003 in Tokyo by curator John Carr in response to the invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq, the Los Angeles-based show has been traveling to cities around the globe, most recently Stockholm and London.

The San Francisco show, which opened last night, is a selection from the show’s total body of 250 handmade prints — mostly silkscreens, linocuts, and woodcuts — contributed by 130 artists worldwide with influences ranging from punk rock and hip hop graphics to the Chicano Poster Movement of the 1960s and ‘70s.

A pro-peace, anti-war art show in San Francisco may seem about as novel as a Charlton Heston fanatic at a gun convention, but “Yo! What Happened to Peace” should not be dismissed with a been-there-done-that yawn.

While some of the pieces fall victim to tired “Fuck Bush” iconography, the majority of the work represents political printmaking at its best: exceptional graphic design, intense colors, expert production, and sharp political commentary.

By Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

Back with his second report from the 2008 Sundance Film Festival, it's Midnites for Maniacs programmer and Guardian contributor Jesse Hawthorne Ficks.

In Bruges - directed by Martin McDonagh (UK)
Colin Farrell is the most underrated, overhated actor of the the past few years. His range was genuinely stunning in Sundance's opening night film. This purposefully offensive comedy follows two hired guns (Farrell and Brenden Gleeson) as they are sent to do an unknown job by their boss (Ralph Fiennes) in the yuppie little town of Bruges (in Belgium). Written and directed by Irish playwright Martin McDonagh, the film has a David Mamet sense of misanthropic morality that is quite rewarding for those with a similar anger towards the world. Farrell has the perfect delivery for this sensibility -- watch In Bruges and his pitch-perfect performance in Woody Allen's misunderstood masterpiece Cassandra's Dream, and you too will become a believer.

Diary of the Dead - directed by George Romero (USA)
As the 67-year-old horror director spoke after his latest zombie movie-social satire, I truly felt a sense of joy exuding from the man. George Romero's newest entry confronts our confused and destructive world once again, this time by following a crew of film students who, while making their student film, realize that zombies have taken over their town and that they suddenly need to make real choices for the first time in their lives. The film is filled with some of the most inventive zombie deaths this side of the UK and has a friendly sense of humor to go along with its deeply cynical view. While Diary of the Dead is not as powerful as Frank Darabont's adaption of Stephen King's The Mist, Romero has made an honorable attack on our society while having a whole lot of low-budget fun.

Sometimes you just have to change things up: come to work late, eat lunch for breakfast, change around your office furniture, have a post-work Happy Hour at your desk. Last Thursday was one of those days – just in time for the arrival of a bottle of Deschutes Brewery’s The Abyss.

See, one of the perks of my job is that people send me stuff. A particularly good perk is that Deschutes, a brewery in Bend, Oregon that makes the kind of fantastic, creative beer that’s made the Pacific Northwest famous for its microbrews, is one of those “people” who sends me “stuff.” In fact, I’ve also had a bottle of its Green Lakes Organic Ale sitting by my desk for a month, just waiting for a taste test.

So. I invited some colleagues up to my office. I switched off the Misfits (which is PBR-drinking music) and switched on Elvis (which, somehow, seemed more like microbrew-drinking music). And I popped open the Green Lakes and The Abyss (whose cap, by the way, is covered in wax, like a fancy bottle of whiskey).

The ever sensitive San Francisco Bay Guardian newsroom responds to news of Heath Ledger’s death:

Film intern Jennique Mason pays tribute to Heath Ledger.

“I love you baby…” You remember, those bleachers and Letters to Cleo on the roof? Yup. You heard it. Hunky Heath is dead! Growing up with him, charting his successes, his breakthroughs, his 10 Things I Hate About Yous, quite frankly, I’m devastated. According to the Hollywood Star, and every other internet rag obsessed with celebrity, the Australian-born actor was found dead in his SoHo apartment this afternoon. Naked and unconscious with a bottle of sleeping pills on his night-stand, Ledger appears to have been paying homage to Marilyn Monroe. But Marilyn lived to be 36 -- Heath has officially checked out at the tender age of 28. Leaving a fine array of films behind him -- including recent triumphs like Brokeback Mountain and I’m Not There, and the next Batman installation, we’ve lost one helluva an actor and a heartthrob. These days, talents with both qualities are becoming increasingly obsolete.

Ledger as Batman nemesis the Joker in The Dark Knight, out this July.

What better way to kick off our Video Mutants issue than with Rihanna-anna-anna's coquettish kitten face turning silver and melting into the spray-golden visage of a zombie-obsessed Dolores O'Riordan (oh, where are you now?) of the Cranberries in Paper Rad's umbrella zombie datamosh mistake?

Stick around after the chorus, because that's when things really get good, with home video of a dog named Ringo, Alf newscasting a holiday parade featuring a giant Garfield balloon, two blond girls impersonating Mack Daddy and Daddy Mack, and more.

In this week’s Super Ego nightlife etc. column, as part of our Video Mutants issue, I handheld display my growing obsession with young artist Ryan Trecartin, who somehow squares club culture and diverts the neon identity parade into a tributary of parodied obnoxion (with Internet hyperquotes). By which I mean, “Damn! I think I just got dissed in a nextdoor dimension, but I like it that way.”

I-BE AREA (Double Jamie, Ramada Omar, and Sally Man Pause)

Ryan – who’s represented by the bigtime Elizabeth Dee Gallery in NYC – has a total Pro Tools grasp on irreality and its obverse reality, what’s beneath people performing, and his video work combines Mardi Gras parade giddiness (he spent time living in New Orleans), Web 2.0 blank paradise, and head-trip introspection with way incredible about me’s. Electronic ghosts, phased identities, realtime spots and trailers .. the online is performed in trashy afterlife/live/death here, and it wears a sparkling wig. Plus, Ryan does fabulous things with windows. JK/JK

I like to think there’s a deep current of nightlife reference running through feature-length works like A Family Finds Entertainment and I-BE AREA. Although who the hell knows? Ryan’s worked with at least one local beloved club presence, Patrik Sandberg -- of ‘90s-flashback pirate radio show “Cobain in a Coma” and “drugged out goth shoegaze dream pop party” Spaced, at the Knockout -- who plays space-waif gift-giver Craig Ricky in I-BE AREA and tells me that Ryan’s “holding a mirror up to a generation that lives a significant part of their lives online, in a way that makes fun of but also adores it. Not only that, I can't stop quoting him.”

OK Agreed. And more than guilty above. So, yeah, I freaked and zoned and freaked again when Ryan agreed to answer some art critic avatar agenda questions over one whole e-mail about his digital video mental.

SF Bay Guardian: In I-BE AREA, the Wood Shop is like the most nightmarish gay dance club I've never been to. I dream about it a lot. How did you put together the Wood Shop scenes?

I-BE AREA (WoodShopBoys Ramada Omar and Jamies Band)

Ryan Trecartin: It was a three shoot workout, in a space called The Woodshop Drama Room one of three rooms that make up Jamie’s Area which is a conceptual part-Cyber-hybrid Platform that obeys and functions with in both laws of Physics and virtual-non-linear reality and potential in Web 2.0/ultra-wiki communication malfunction liberation flow, add-on, and debate presentation. The main structure is the character Jamie her self- a total control damage freak with independent log-ins, muse extension people, and live-links. The Wood Shop is a situation stage where pho-male-cyber-gays login to over posted anti-productive decisive message board dead-end faggoting activities. Jamie has a composer status in this scene during another timeslot using her saw and wood dictating with wireless momentum control and influence over her haters at work, while mirroring in Dark Jam Band form, on cell-phone with Ramada Omar in Class Room separated by a closed Window (3 time slots being viewed). The Wood Shop Fags search-out wanting a free channel edge and perform a permanent Window opening on Ramada Omar Freeing it to an independent Multi-tasking shape shifting reality pool. The actual shoot was really fun. It had a script but was the most abstract shoot of the whole movie-lots of improvisations and an everyone talked at the same time, making a don’t be quiet on the set situation. Like planed home video- script-destruction theme over goal. My favorite part is when Solomon (black hair pig-tale mall goth wig) has a brick ready for the Break Down, in cell phone placement and says nothing about someone calling him on his phone an “Said”, over and over like it’s a presidential victory speech with supporters and reason promoting a total nowhere emotion expansion with self eating content, saying… what?—don’t use hotmale log out to log In father fucker.

Welcome to the party, welcome to the show. What are sweetberry club cakes? Wouldn't you like to know!

To find out, you'll just have to listen to "SweetBerry Shuffle" by Kalup Linzy, where Labisha will break it down for you. It's worth the search: Whether it manifests as phone-crazed soap opera societal satire, animation, painting, or music, Linzy's creativity -- which can be glimpsed and heard on his own site and MySpace pages and seen in person through his gallery, Taxter and Spengemann -- is pointedly funny. I recently spoke to him for a profile in this week's video issue.

Asshole

Guardian: I want to begin by talking about the role or presence of soap opera within your videos. Did you have affection for the soaps and for melodrama?
Kalup Linzy: I grew up watching soap operas. I was raised by grandmother, but it sort of goes back to my great grandmother – she used to listen to Guiding Light on the radio. When it switched over to TV, she grew deaf, and somehow she would sit and watch soap operas all day long. We couldn’t turn the channel. If we were playing and went over to one of our aunt’s houses down the street, the same soap opera would be on.
By the time I turned 10 or 11, I knew what was going on [on the shows] and I started watching them as entertainment. They sort of inspired me to want to act and write. They struck that chord in me.

The Pursuit of Gay (Happyness)

In honor of our cover story about video art, I've decided to share my favorite videos of the week. Are they worthy of a SFMOMA installation? Probably not. But are they art? I say yes. Here's why:

Mark Lives in IKEA

So comedian/filmmaker Mark Malkoff (famous for going to every Starbucks in Manhattan in one day) decides to move into an IKEA while his apartment gets fumigated. And they let him.

The genius of this? First, that he thought of the idea at all. Second, that he actually convinced IKEA to let him do it. And most importantly, the amount of work and planning it must've taken to compose and edit these "reality" segments (including getting IKEA staff and even his wife involved), which are actually quite funny and endearing. If Mark weren't in New York, already married, and likely to put the whole thing on YouTube, I'd totally hit that - for his brilliance alone (and cuz I like the geeky glasses thing).

Though Damon Packard considers himself a filmmaker, not a video artist, his wonderfully unique and often bizarre works are right at home in our Video Mutants issue.

Watch and learn, kids!

The trailer for The Untitled Star Wars Mockumentary.

Reflections of Evil trailer.

By Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

In his third report from the 2008 Sundance Film Festival, it's Midnites for Maniacs programmer and Guardian contributor Jesse Hawthorne Ficks reflects on his personal best of the fest.

Downloading Nancy - directed by Johan Renck (Canada)
Pain and sadness inhabit most of us. Extreme anger can turn into apathy, and relentless insecurity can turn into absolute self-destruction. In Johan Renck's debut feature, shot by Christopher Doyle, each moment, every shot, even the slightest gesture, accentuates the film's gut-wrenching tone. A married couple of 15 years has lost their magic. More than that, they've lost the feel of one another. Albert (Rufus Sewell) is putting all of his energy into an interactive golf game that airport passengers can practice while Nancy (Maria Bello) spends her days attempting to connect with someone, anyone, online. While the structure of the film slowly unfolds, we are forced to figure out the whys and whens on our own. The cold blue settings, the silent snowy sadness, the frigid impending dread drifting from one scene to the next: it all traps you in this brutal way that makes you want to run out of the theater. In fact during the press screening, dozens of people were leaving and it was not it in a casual way.

The 96-minute Downloading Nancy is pure emotion. And through all of the self-effacing and self-infliction that the characters encounter, you care. You care immensely about these depressed disasters doing the best that they can. You experience their darkest moments and you feel what they cannot. In fact, you'll feel so much that you'll have to decide if you can stay and watch. This is not only the best film at Sundance this year, it provides insight into where you might be headed if you don't start fighting for yourself.

Yeah, yeah, this is like two weeks late -- we were drunk(er), and our minds were still struggling to encompass the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. Guardian assistant art director Ben Hopfer toured MacWorld. Here's his report.

12 iGalaxies

Ah MacWorld, the one place in the world where I can completely geek out and still not be the biggest dork in the building. I’ve been going to MacWorld for almost 10 years now; originally because I got to talk my dad into buying me a bunch of cool computer shit I couldn’t afford myself and now so I can play around with a bunch of cool computer shit I still can’t afford. Never less here’s my quick and dirty breakdown of this years’ event.

Mac me in slick Louis

My first thought this years MacWorld was where are all the computers? It seemed like every booth was either for speakers for you iPod, a case for your iPod/iPhone, or some fancy smancy bag for your laptop. Now at one point I had a nice rubber case for my iPod, but all it was useful for what getting dust and grime on itself. Now I know there’s millions and millions of iPod’s out there, but how can one product spawn so many companies wanting to wrap it up on rubber and plastic cases? Haven’t we hit critical mass yet?

The same can be said for all the companies trying to sell speakers for the iPod. It seemed like every other booth had something you could stick your iPod in. I mean being able to listen to your music without the need of earbuds is awesome, but do they all have to look so ridiculous? I mean until recently I was just using a cheap pair or battery powered speakers to play my music, do we really need a toilet paper holder with built in speakers so we can listen to music while we take a crap?

iWipe

The Green Fairy makes an appearance at Absinthe after ten successful years

By Colleen McCaffrey

Anyone with a ringed finger to prove it knows that a 10-year anniversary calls for something stronger than a bit of bubbly. So it is quite fitting that Absinthe Brassiere and Bar celebrates theirs with the recent legalization of its namesake. Two distillers of the infamous “green fairy” are now available, Lucid and Kübler, but at more than 120 proof don’t expect it lit on fire, in spite of the myth.

In the revolving door restaurant industry of San Francisco, a decade is the Manhattan of anniversaries- not quite the history of a 25-year scotch, but certainly not for the faint of heart. With a handful of traditional menu items like the French onion soup and Sazerac cocktail rolling back to their 1998 prices, Absinthe’s sommelier, Aaron Glossman, quips, “too bad rent can’t do the same.” As an employee at the Hayes Valley hotspot I have to agree, but eating like it is comes in a close second. Vintage wines will be available in honor of the festivities, including a ’98 Chateau Gruaud Larose, Bordeaux ($34/glass.) The celebration lasts until the first of February.

Ten years are honorable and this last has been quite impressionable. Absinthe may be celebrating an anniversary but the current success of new executive chef Jamie Lauren has brought anything but nostalgia. The 2005 Chronicle Rising Star may have stepped into the shadows of a notorious bar, but her rustic blend of California and Mediterranean style dishes give clear indication that she has no intention of staying there.

398 Hayes at Gough, SF, (415) 551-1590, www.absinthe.com

I knew I’d reached some level of pixel heaven a few minutes after putting Paper Rad’s Trash Talking (Load) into the DVD player. Or was it into the hard drive? Either way, that pixel portal to humor epiphanies opened when an animated character stopped jive walking and started telling me – in an ornery fashion – that the disc I was watching had no menu. Since the day of that digital bitch slap, I’ve encountered other brilliant uses of DVD formatting – the remote control menu of TV Carnage’s vintage-new Ouch Television My Brain Hurts is a maze of horrors, for example – but none quite so simply brilliant. The fact that it was followed by a sugared cereal version of a Duchamp-like explosion in a shingle factory helped. Paper Rad videos are seizures of pleasure.

Excerpt from Trash Talking DVD

Their latest video work subdues the frenzy, though. Some of the video mutants in this issue use YouTube to step outside of white cubes, while others – such as Kalup Linzy -- are creating their own answers to TV genres. With Problem Solvers, Paper Rad are taking the latter idea to a paradoxical extreme, seeing what they can do within the time constraints of a common sitcom format. I recently spoke to collective member Jacob Ciocci.

SFBG: I know you have a performance at the Sundance Film Festival. Will it be a bombardment?
Jacob Ciocci: Cory [Arcangel] is going to do a couple of performances, and we’re going to play live music to Problem Solvers, the new 23-minute video.
It will be a bombardment, but not as much overload as some previous performances and videos, because Problem Solvers is a narrative work that tells the story of six characters.

Trailer for Trash Talking DVD

Field day: Peter Stegall's An Equal Playing Field (2007).

By Ava Jancar

Triple Base guest curator Dina Dusko has organized an exhibition that opposes what has become known as the "regular" programming of the space. For this show, she has brought in the work of an established artist, Peter Stegall, rather than spotlighting a recent graduate of California College of the Arts. It has been decades since Stegall graduated with his MA in art from Sacramento State. That said, in past years, his work has not had much exposure within San Francisco proper.

Stegall's pieces - characterized by the hard-edged geometric forms common in paintings of the 1940s through '60s - seem initially as though they too could have been the product of another decade. While the columnar elements of a John McLaughlin or a Barnett Newman and the sweeping curves of a Lorser Feitelson are present, Stegall's paintings - although contemporary hybridizations of such mid-century masters - seem vastly different, experientially. While a vintage piece by Feitelson may appear cracked and aging, Stegall's works glisten. The gloss enamel paint on the small Masonite panels lack the imperfections of time - bringing fleetingly to mind the glossy surfaces of John McCracken's painted planks. In this respect, canonical references seem to break down, particularly when noticing the slightness of the panels themselves.

Averaging around 8 by 11 inches, the paintings do not emit an aura of grandeur similar to the works of his predecessors. Instead they seem like quiet studies in search of the beautiful. Stegall's use of a small brush to paint the surface of the panels may also account for their quaint size. He fills in each field of color using the same size brush, therefore leaving the definite mark of his hand.

By Justin Juul

Deja Poo, San Francisco's first dookie-themed art show, is looking for new talent. The people who'll be throwing the event --in their living room!!!-- are sick and tired of dealing with bullshit and are actively enlisting the help of complete strangers. The show will feature poo-shaped snacks, shitty deejays, "mud" wrasslin', open-mic poo stories, and a bunch of other dumb shit. I'm only writing this because I don't have enough time to whip up a mini-mural of the final scene from 2 Girls One Cup. The idea is all yours if you want it, though. Just reply to this ad and get to work.

Deja Poo
Saturday, Feb 2, 6pm - Midnight
The Art Alley Gallery
10 Heron ST.
FREE

The loaded title of Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno's Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait promises a rendering of the iconic and volcanic footballer and of the century in which we reside. This Friday, Gordon and Parreno's one-of-a-kind film begins a return engagement at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. In honor of the film, and in conjunction with our recent "Video Mutants" cover package, here is a link to my extensive interview with Gordon about the film from last year, and a trailer that gives you a mere taste of Zidane's sensurround properties when experienced in a movie theater.