It's Pride, and I'm going to shamelessly plug something. 'Tis the season for shameless plugging! Whatever your orientation, take a break from strutting your sizzling stuff soon and visit the GLBT Historical Society on Mission Street (www.glbthistory.org). The archives are a treasure trove, and "Out Ranks," the current exhibition displaying the effects of queer soldiers from World War II through Iraq, is a must-see.
To my mind, the only place gays in the military belong is on a porn DVD definitely not on an aircraft carrier deployed to Kuwait. Read more »
In a hilarious gaffe, local free monthly-ish paper for women The City Edition published a wild-eyed editorial this week accusing the Guardian of promoting prostitution, causing anorexia, keeping women from "tapping into orgasmic potential," and basically steering any girl under the age of 18 into a hellacious vice-hole from which she'll never return. (We caused Paris Hilton? Read more »
It's almost summer, and I feel shamelessly trendy. Not Bobby or big sunglasses trendy or even Lindsay gray hoodie or Paris orange jumpsuit trendy (well, maybe a little). No, I wanna know. What's going on in the wide and wicked world of fashionable nightlife? Make me care, dammit.
In New York, the wild, proudly heterosexual rich kids who run the überpopular Box are talking about opening an after-hours bathhouse. Read more »
Gazelle Emami checks out Berkeley's film-oriented BALLE Conference ....
The purpose of educational films—bear with me—are to inform the public. But here’s where they bump into their biggest obstacle. Unless Al Gore is at the helm, they’re probably not going to get wide viewing beyond festivals that are specifically geared toward showing films of their kind. Enter the first ever Business Alliance for Local Living Economies’ (BALLE) Conference Film Festival, a two-day event that was held this past Tuesday and Wednesday at UC Berkeley’s Wheeler Auditorium. Read more »
SUPER EGO Swooning in the aural vortex of the last How Weird Street Faire, I lean against the central shade tower heavens, it's hot! as four separate whiz-bang DJ arenas writhe at my compass points like electronic eels. Psytrance, tech house, tribal, and jeep beats overlap in a fun fuzz of dissonance: a Euterpean kaleidoscope, if you will.
A shirtless Pan in crooked BluBlockers emerges from the sonic haze and politely offers a welcome quench from his Camelback. Ah, agua ... that's better. Read more »
SUPER EGO "We're trying to reverse the great Berlin brain drain," DJ Solekandi of the Bay Area Beatdrop crew told me somewhat breathlessly. She was preparing to launch Filter.SF, the latest and so far biggest monument to the return of peninsular techno, an "official" Saturday monthly at Fat City, that would spill over ecstatically into 8 a.m. "Is that where my brain's been draining?" I replied, emptying my scotch glass warily. Read more »
After circling the same late-night block in the Tenderloin for any number of years, I recently donned my fabulous '50s air hostess uniform with matching kicky white pumps, splashed on a dash of Wind Song, and decided to experience the magic of travel. Why, there's a whole world knocking at my back door and no length I won't go for a taste of adventure. Read more »