Why was the second season of Serial such a dud?

Remember how the first season of Serial took everyone by storm? (Well, by "everyone" I mean the kind of everyone who downloads podcasts and reads blogs like this and probably talks about going to New York a lot.)  Remember when all we could talk about was the Nisha call and Mail Kimp?  Heady days.  Even Adnan got in on the action and got himself a new hearing!  Man, if Season 1 was so good, imagine how good Season 2 was gonna be!

WRONG.  Season 2 flopped.  It was the story of Bowe Bergdahl, a US Army soldier who left his base in Afghanistan and was captured by the Taliban and then exchanged for some Guantanamo guys and that made everyone so mad.  Seems like an interesting story, right?  How come it was a big fail when Season 1 was such a hit?  I have some ideas.

1. No mystery

Season 1 was basically a true crime show, and everybody loves Dateline.  There's a murder, and then you think you have it figured out, and then there's a twist, and then there's a payphone at Best Buy or maybe there's not, and now maybe the wrong guy is in jail.  OR IS HE.

In Season 2, on the other hand, a guy walks off a base and gets captured by the Taliban and grievously abused for years and then freed.  It's a compelling story, but there's no mystery.  One of the Taliban doesn't whip off his mask at the end and OH MY GOD IT'S JEFF THAT GUY HE BULLIED IN HIGH SCHOOL!!!!  There are still questions about why Bowe did what he did but it's just fundamentally not as interesting.  We want to know if Colonel Mustard used the lead pipe in the conservatory, not whether Colonel Mustard was internally conflicted about killing Mr. Boddy .

2. Format too unpredictable

Season 1 was released one episode at a time, once a week.  It was nice and predictable, like TV shows or happy hour.  Season 2 started off the same - one episode, roughly the same time every week.  Then suddenly one week here's Sarah Koenig telling us "Oh, whoops, never mind, it's only going to be every other week."  Then one week, "Surprise!  Here's two episodes."  Then none the next week.  Or something.  It killed whatever momentum the show had.  Remember when "Lost" would disappear for a few weeks, then come back for one episode, then vanish for a month, then three more episodes?  Not a model you want to emulate.

3. Too far removed from general experience

Season 1 was relatable because basically everyone's been to high school and everyone's had a high school love and everyone knew some weirdos in high school who might could kill someone.  But in Todays' America, and ESPECIALLY amongst the target demo of Serial, almost no one has been in the Army or been to Afghanistan.  So it's much harder to put yourself in the main character's shoes.

Hopefully they bounce back and get their footing back next season because it can be pretty good when it's done right.

Here are 5 things you should be watching RIGHT NOW

Well, not RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW, but RIGHT NOW when you are in front of or near a TV.

1. 11.22.63, on Hulu Plus

Hulu, best known as a repository for mediocre network TV shows, got into the original content game with this miniseries based on the Stephen King book of the same name about the classic time travel question: Would you go back in time to try and stop the JFK assassination?  James Franco would.  IT'S GREAT.  Totally intriguing premise, of course, and Franco does a great job, along with Daniel Webber as a creepy, totally believable Lee Harvey Oswald, along with pretty much everybody.



Instead of just dumping all 8 episodes, Netflix-style, Hulu is dribbling them out once a week and it's making the experience simultaneously more fun and more excruciating.  It's the show we look forward to most every week.  So much fun.  Next week is the finale.  Get Hulu Plus so you can watch this.

Hopefully next they make 4.20.1889 about someone going back in time to kill baby Hitler.  Wait, Hitler was born on 4/20!!!!  How does somebody not mention this EVERY FUCKING DAY?!?!!!!

2. Girls, on HBO

Now that it's in the 4th season and everybody's pretty much moved on and it doesn't have to represent Something Important to everyone, Girls has settled in as a fun little slice of life show about a few insane people in New York and Japan.  Don't get me wrong, many of the characters are repellent monsters you wouldn't want to be stuck next to in coach, but watching them interact with the humans is a good way to pass a half hour.  The Marnie-centric episode last Sunday was particularly good but I'm not sure why.

3. Happy Valley (season 2), on Netflix

OH MY GOD TELL ME YOU WATCHED SEASON 1 OF HAPPY VALLEY.  You didn't?  The fuck is wrong with you?  Go watch it right now.  OK good.  Now you can watch season 2.

Are you sick of brooding dude antiheroes?  Yes, we all are.  Then enjoy the hell out of Sarah Lancashire's performance as Sgt. Catherine Cawood, an ordinary-looking middle-aged police sergeant in an uncool part of England.  She is so, so good but everything about this show is good, from the uniformly excellent performances to the tautly conceived plot.  Total bingewatch.

Also, poor Mr. Moseley.  He just can't catch a fucking break.

4. The People v. O.J. Simpson, on FX

If you're as old as me and you actually remember this happening in real time, your reaction might have been the same as mine: "No fucking way do I want to relive that."  WELL WE WERE ALL FUCKING WRONG because this show is like 1000x more fun than it has any right to be.  NOT ONLY does John Travolta stage like his 5th or 6th comeback as a literally oily Robert Shapiro, BUT ALSO you've got David Schwimmer doing a perpetually nervous Robert Kardashian and Courtney B. Vance KILLING IT as Johnnie Cochran.  The only miscasting is Cuba Gooding Jr. as O.J. himself and that's just because he is physically too small to be O.J.  Plus, all the period details are just right.  Check out all those baggy as fuck suits!

5. Better Call Saul, on AMC

I know, I'm not really stirring up a hornet's nest of controversy by recommending a show that's gotten the critical acclaim of Citizen Kane crossed with the Beatles but it's still a damn good show.

BONUS CONTENT: Jonathan Banks - Mike Ehrmantraut on this show and Breaking Bad - was in "Airplane!".



Yep, he's the guy opening the microwave. Weird.

Lyric Deconstruction: "Animal Crackers in my Soup"

Shirley Temple, 1935



Oh, look at the cute little girl singing about animal crackers in her soup!  How sweet!

WRONG.  This shit is fucking DARK.  I didn't really know any of the lyrics until I played it for my kid one day and listened.  It was like a Southern Baptist listening to her kid's Faster Pussycat album for the first time.

Animal crackers in my soup
Monkies and rabbits loop the loop,
Gosh, oh gee, but I have fun,
Swallowin' animals one by one.
In every bowl of soup I see,
Lions and tigers watching me,
I make 'em jump right thru a hoop,
Those animal crackers in my soup

Not too bad so far.  But wait, here comes the second verse:

When I get hold of the big bad wolf
I just push him under to drown
Then I bite him in a million bits
And I gobble him right down!

Holy shit, Shirley.  I'm prettty sure holding an animal underwater to drown it is felony animal cruelty.  Can't you just picture the wolf thrashing violently in the water under Shirley Temple's tiny hands, gasping for breath as the curly-haired monster forces the life from him?

When they're inside me where it's dark

I walk around like Noah's Ark

I stuff my tummy like a goop

With animal crackers in my soup!

The image of a menagerie of animals sloshing around and slowly dissolving in Shirley Temple's stomach acid is too much to bear.  I hope they all died a merciful death before she could sentence to the misery of her portable miniature ark.  Also, "goop" as a term for a kind of person must have gone out of fashion at some point in the last 80 or 90 years.  Maybe it should be "I stuff my tummy like a GOOP," but only if by "stuff my tummy" you mean "browse over a carefully curated selection of hand-grown tropical fruits and high-mountain imported quinoa."

It goes on, but more boringly.  Let's focus on the horror.  No wonder it says "Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language" on MetroLyrics.

I would say have a good weekend but I don't think that's possible now.

I'm on hiatus

It's that time of year. Time to engage in some uncomfortable air travel and see the relatives and whatever.  I'll be back.

The Wells Fargo Gold Nugget Heist: The Movie

A supersecret cabal known as "The Associates" has learned that the Big 4 (C. P. Huntington, Charles Crocker, Mark Hopkins and Leland Stanford) hid an unimaginable treasure of gold and gems inside an abandoned silver mine once owned by James Flood.  The Associate's researchers have discovered that a map to the treasure was acquired by Henry Wells when he won some mounted gold nuggets in a poker game that the map had been secreted behind.  Wells later learned of his find but died before he was unable to retrieve the map and find the treasure.  The nuggets were later put on display at the original Wells Fargo branch on Montgomery Street, but knowledge of the map was lost until The Associates learned of it.

One day, a representative of The Associates who calls himself "G" contacts Dexter Wright, a onetime jewel thief and bank robber known as "The Professor" because of his well-planned schemes and the fact that he used to teach Classical Poetry at Berkeley.  The Professor will be played by Denzel Washington.

"G" has some disturbing news for Wright: several people very close to him, including some good friends and even a cousin, have been kidnapped and will be executed unless he does exactly what The Associates tell him to do.  He is to steal the gold nugget display from the Wells Fargo location and deliver it to "G."  He offers as proof a photograph of Wright's close friend and former cellmate Manny holding up an iPad with that day's SFist displayed on the screen.

Wright, panicked by the threats, immediately sets about assembling a crack crime team to do the job.  First, he tracks down "Ace," an expert at social engineering and surveillance, to scout the location and help him plan.  Ace will be played by Rooney Mara.

The Professor and Ace then track down "Wheels," the best car man they know.  Wheels says he's out of the game and he's gone straight as a salesman on an Infiniti lot in Fremont.  He's wearing a short sleeve shirt with a tie when they find him and will be played by Jake Gyllenhaal.

Wheels turns down the offer until The Professor explains that they're holding Franco, who saved Wheels' life one time when a complicated scheme went bad in Sparks, Nevada.  Wheels realizes he can't abandon his friend and agrees to help.

Wheels steals a couple of cars to use.  Meanwhile, Ace scouts the location and devises the plan - Operation Brute Force.  Instead of trying to circumvent Wells Fargo's elaborate security, why not just drive right into the door?  "Like a McDonalds drive-through," she says.  "Except the nuggets are GOLD, not chicken."  [Pause for audience laughter]

Everyone signs off on the plan.  On the appointed night, Wheels drives the car into the bank and the crew seizes the nugget display and flees in another car Wheels has stolen and placed nearby.

As the crew examine the nugget display, Ace notices something on the back - the map.  The Professor calls on a trusted ally at Berkeley who reveals the truth about the heist.

The Professor sets up an exchange with "G" but things go awry and "G" gets shot.  Hoping to send a message to The Associates, the crew chop up "G"s body and put it in a suitcase at the designated meeting point, 11th and Mission, with a note to The Associates.

A member of The Associates contacts The Professor and tells him they want to settle this amicably: a fair exchange of the hostages for the map.  Both sides agree to meet at Fort Point to make the exchange.

The night of the exchange is rainy and mist swirls around the fort.  The Professor catches a glimpse of Manny tied up in one of the rooms, briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning.  Things go wrong and there is a shootout, which culminates in The Professor and the lead Associate fighting it out along the rickety wooden decks of the fort.  Finally, The Professor gets the upper hand, and held at gunpoint, the lead Associate agrees to split the treasure.

Everyone heads to the mine and, following the map, explore the twisting rock tunnels until they locate the vault where the treasure is supposed to be.  Instead of the treasure, they find only a yellowed piece of paper saying "On deposit - Wells Fargo & Co. - One Treasure. Signed, Henry Wells."  The treasure has long since disappeared.

The last shot is The Professor, Wheels, and Ace having a drink together at Specs when The Professor's phone buzzes.  "A job?" he says.  He looks over at Wheels and Ace.  "Yeah, we might be interested in a job."

(Thanks to periqueblend for help during the development process.)

Please don't shoot the dinosaurs

This was eventually bound to happen.

South Carolina teen with terrible haircut arrested for threatening to kill dinosaur

So much going on here.

A Summerville High School student who says he was arrested and suspended after writing about killing a dinosaur using a gun in a class assignment has hired a lawyer.

Stone said he and his classmates were told in class to write a few sentences about themselves, and a "status" as if it was a Facebook page. Stone said in his "status" he wrote a fictional story that involved the words "gun" and "take care of business."

"I killed my neighbor's pet dinosaur, and, then, in the next status I said I bought the gun to take care of the business," Stone said.

GET OUT OF THE WAY HERE COME THE HOT TAKES

1. Of course it's absurd, but this is what you get when you mix a country where school shootings are sadly routine with a state that venerates guns so much that the governor, fresh off signing a bill allowing drunks and those about to become drunk to carry their pieces into bars, also wants to eliminate concealed carry permits entirely and let anyone tote a gun anywhere.  So when a student in South Carolina  writes about buying a gun, you don't think "Pshaw, that's ludicrous!", you think, "Fuck, is he strapped right now?"  Welcome to the Unintended Consequences Aisle of Gun Culture Mart.

2. Dinosaurs aren't real.

3. "I bought the gun to take care of the business" sounds like something a sociopath would say, so I support this arrest.

4. Really, the haircut.

5. If you believe that dinosaurs and Jesus lived at the same time, well, it's not a stretch to believing that a coupla stray dinosaurs might still be around.

BANG BANG.  Have a good weekend!

Star Spangled Banner (v. 2.0)

Oh say can you see
My badass APC
Get the fuck off the street
We're the militarized police

Whose broad rights and what laws
Will we trample today
Your First Amendment
Is no match for my HK

And the road flares' red glare
Tear gas bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
There were cops everywhere

Oh say did that riot policema-aaa-aaa-aan
Tell you get the fuck inside
Or he'll tear gas you toooooooooooooo

Drama at 30,000 feet! Also at 30 feet.

Thanks again to everyone for the kind words on my Dad's passing.  We were just coming home from the funeral yesterday when Frontier flight 663 from Denver to SFO EXPLODED WITH DRAMA which in turn cheered me up a lot.

We were in row 2 so a lot of this happened behind us.  We first became aware that there was a Situation when a middle-aged white lady and a tween Middle Eastern-appearing boy with a wispy mustache and socks with sandals approached the two flight attendants standing in the galley at the front and started talking excitedly.  Naturally I RIPPED my earbuds out and tried to hear what was going on but couldn't really make it out except for the FAs telling them they'd take care of it.  They left and went somewhere, back to their seats I guess.

Then he was up front.  The Troublemaker, who I'll call "Brad" because he looked like a Brad, was maybe late 30's, wearing flip flops and a bead bracelet and about three days of stubble.  He didn't look very good.  He stood motionless facing the galley until one of the FAs asked what he wanted and I guess he said the bathroom because she pointed out the door, DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HIS FACE.  He went in and didn't lock it, natch, so then the FA had to tell the HUGE guy who came up next not to go in.

OK.  HERE WE GO WITH THE EXCITING PART.  Brad comes out of the lavatory and starts talking to the FA.  He has sort of a vacant look and I know RIGHT AWAY he's asking for another drink.  I can't hear what FA is saying but I can tell she's saying no.  It goes back and forth for a while.  Then he starts talking about how he doesn't like people stealing from him!  I guess he thinks he already paid for drinks and didn't get them?  She tells him over and over to go back to his seat.  At this point I'm looking around to see who else is nearby in case there's a rumble.

OK.  Huge Dude comes out and is behind him.  Argument is escalating.  BOOM, now the guy in 1D is up.  He looks like a cross between Sam Elliott and Nick Cave and appears to be about 60 but has full sleeve tattoos that he either got in a biker gang or in prison.  I noticed him quietly radiating menace earlier.  I am pretty sure Brad is about to die.  But wait!  Sam Elliott has a solution.  His female companion has pulled $10 from her purse and Sam Elliott gives it to Brad.  "You want money?  Here's your money.  Now go back to your seat."  You have to imagine this in the Sam Elliott voice.

At this point, Brad is standing between a Human Retaining Wall and probably the former president of the Hells Angels.  He squeaks out some more protests but you can tell he knows he's beat.

"Go back.  To your seat," Sam Elliott says.  I'm scared of him and I'm in my seat and haven't done anything wrong.  Brad slowly walks away in that shitfaced look-at-me-balancing-aren't-I-doing-great way.

Everybody sits down.  Sam Elliott is talking to the guy in 1C, across the aisle.  "It's no big deal. He just drank too much," Sam Elliott says.

Not everyone agreed with Sam Elliott's take.  The FA told us all not to get up when we land.  For most airline passengers, this is akin to asking them not to breathe.  There is NOTHING airline passengers like more than LEAPING into the aisle the nanosecond the plane's discernible movement stops.  But they do it!  On come about 5 SFPD officers.  Brad leaves with them sans protest.  Wife and Beyonce and I all get off the plane.  Sam Elliott goes off to drink an entire bottle of tequila in one gulp and intimidate some rattlesnakes.  Human Retaining Wall eats a KFC franchise.  Brad spends the night in jail.  Life goes on.

This US immigration application is amazing

Thanks to Internet communicant LSUcaligrl I have been alerted to the existence of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services Form I-485, "Application to Become a Real American And Quit Living in This Filthy Hellhole I Call a Country" oh wait no it's actually "Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status" but same diff really.  This is what you fill out to live here.

Obviously, we only want the Good and True to hang out with, so the questions on this form are CAREFULLY DESIGNED  to weed out Bad People and Undesirables.  How do we do that?  With the HONOR SYSTEM.

Page 3:

It's the world's worst game of "I Never"!  In the past 10 years, have you ever been a prostitute or procured anyone for prostitution?  DRINK!  Apparently, if you did a little hooking 11 years ago, we're cool, but that $50 BJ in '05 will keep you right the fuck out of USA.

Page 4 gets even weirder:

Do you intend to engage in a little espionage or maybe overthrow the government?  BZZZZT SORRY NOT THE COUNTRY FOR YOU.  There is something so wholesome and aw shucks gee whiz about these questions.  I know it's a formality and they probably use it to also charge you with perjury if you say "no" and then later espionage against the US, but I love the unspoken assumption that some chucklehead applying to live here will go "Shit, I DO intend to do a little espionaging," and check "YES."

Also, this form clearly hasn't been updated since 1955 what with the "Are you a Communist" question instead of "Are you whatever the Westboro Baptist Church people are."  Also, were you a Nazi?

Question 13: Do you plan to practice polygamy? If so, do you have contacts in the reality show production industry?

So let this be a lesson to you Communists, Nazis, weapon traffickers, people who have "called for" "severely injuring any person," labor camp servers, and people who have gotten weapons training: MOVE ALONG, NOTHING TO SEE HERE.

The Greater Shitshow Theory

Yesterday was Bay to Breakers.  If you're not familiar, it's an annual event where a Kenyan wins a footrace, then people from Concord get kneewalking drunk and throw up in the Panhandle while careening across the city.  Before we go any further, let's pause for this picture from the Chronicle's Peter Hartlaub, which I hereby designate the Official Picture of Bay to Breakers for All Time:

What happened here?  Why did a quirky, annual only-in-San Francisco kind of event turn into a gigantic shitshow where 50,000 bad apples ruin it for the other 5?  It's something I like to think of as the Greater Shitshow Theory.  The GST works like this:

1. A group of people begin a regularly-held cool event.

2. When it begins, the event is limited to a smallish in-the-know clique.

3. Word gets out and more people are attracted to the event.

4. The event begins to grow unmanageably large.  The original founders are no longer interested and may be disgusted.  Coors Light is usually involved at this point.

5. The event spirals out of control and turns into a drunken shitshow.  It is either then cancelled forever or throttled by the authorities.

There are plenty of examples.  Castro Halloween used to be a uniquely SF kind of gathering where people would dress up in well-thought-out, cool costumes, head to the Castro, hang out and have fun.  Then a bunch of drunk assholes showed up and ruined it.  Believe it or not, when Santacon first began in 1994, it was seen as a kind of transgressive event, instead of the frat boy Jagermeister nightmare it's become.  To some extent, the same thing has happened to Burning Man, although it's easier for the People in Charge to keep a lid on it because of the remote location and high barriers to participation.  Suburban straights have even started to fuck up Gay Pride Weekend, as documented by the great Civic Center blog here and here.

History shows us that this is nothing new.  Woodstock begat Altamont, and eventually begat the dystopian nightmare that was Woodstock 99, which featurted the spectacle of Roid Bros starting fires while Limp Bizkit sang "Break Stuff."  If they had made the Human Be-In an annual event, it would today be sponsored by Red Bull and attended by dudes in sombreros carrying 30-packs of Bud Light.

True to form, that's what happened with Bay to Breakers.  I remember when it was a big, but pretty mellow event.  People drank - a lot - but held their shit together.  Here's part of a Chronicle story on the race from 1991:

A half-dozen young men ran the race in diapers while guzzling from baby bottles filled with beer.

The strange parade of fitness freaks and thrill-seekers also included four wild-eyed guys wearing ballerina tutus, a group of runners carrying a huge Trojan horse, and a gentleman decked out in top hat, tails and cane.

"It's a whole lot more fun in a costume. The crowd's enthusiasm picks you up. People cheer you on, especially if they can recognize the animal," said Grace Cooper, a San Francisco artist who ran with a flock of folks in penguin suits.

"Some people cheered, 'Go ducks, Go ducks! But we corrected them,' " she said, pointing out her orange beak, bulging eyes and polka-dot bow tie.
- - - - -
All things considered, the charity and promotional event went very well. There were no reported heart attacks or deaths. And brigades of green-jacketed organizers helped police the crowd while others collected the tons of trash left behind.

After the race, thousands of runners gathered at a nearby amphitheater in Golden Gate Park filled with huge balloons and booths set up by corporate sponsors. While some sacked out on the grass, others had picnics and listened to vintage rock and roll.

No mention of fights or people pissing on houses.  Yesterday I walked about a mile along Fulton near Golden Gate park, not far from the route, around 3:00 p.m. and was continually dodging horrifically drunk kids stumbling along the sidewalk.  On Central near the Panhandle, a guy screamed "FUCK OFF" at a girl wearing underwear and pushed her down onto the sidewalk.  Luckily her friends weren't too shitfaced to help her out, and the guy started slurring an apology.  Ugh.  The GST strikes again.

UPDATE: I just noticed that Peter Hartlaub put up a piece at SFGate about how shitty B2B has become.  Cranky Old Guys unite!

Leland Yee: The Lego Version

Sorry about the "instroduced" typo but I don't have the time to go back and fix it now.

What's going on with the Top 3 songs in the country right now?

As you may or may not know, from time to time the Music Department here at 40goingon28 likes to take a moment and sample the Top 3 songs in the country, as judged by our Content Partners at Billboard magazine.  Sometimes this little adventure is fun; sometimes it's sad; today's it's just painful.

The Number One song in the country right now is called "Timber" and it's by either Pitbull and Ke$ha or it's Ke$ha featuring Pitbull or it's Pitbull featuring Ke$ha.  Whatever it is, it's the Worst Thing I've Ever Heard.  I'm not kidding this time.  I would listen to one hundred million Train songs before I would ever willingly listen to this again.




Oh Jesus. What the fuck. It's like some kind of demented square dance crossed with Black Eyed Peas crossed with terrible rapping.  I can't understand most of what Pitbull is saying but I heard the words "Miley Cyrus," "booty," and "oil spill," so I guess that's all you need to know.  This is the #1 song in the country.  Obviously the war in Afghanistan is not protecting our freedoms very well.

The #2 song is better because it's not "Timber."



It's by OneRepublic, which I thought was a mall clothing store up until just now. Let me reiterate: compared to "Timber" by Pitbull, this is the White Album and Exile on Main Street combined. But on its own merits, it's bad. Not bad in the sense of offensive, just boring and bland. If you like this, it's like having an opinion on lawns or Toyota Corollas. Why would you care?

The third most popular song in America is by Eminem. We know Eminem! He's actually produced some good songs in the past. This is called "The Monster" and is f/Rihanna. We can tell this is going to be Very Serious because the first minute of the video references "Fame" and "Addiction." These are Serious Things. I think this is one of those songs that all artists do at that stage in their careers about how hard it is to be famous.


I don't know, maybe it is hard to be famous. It's still boring and trite to complain about it. Given Rihanna's well-documented history, it is kinda weird to hear her sing "I'm friends with the monster who's under my bed," because that's apparently LITERALLY TRUE.

It's OK, I guess. It's just disappointing because Eminem is a pretty talented dude and this is so phoned-in for him. He could, and probably did, just roll out of bed and knock off a rap like this. Just retire instead of this.

That's it!  Have a good weekend, everybody.

Misadventures in driving

Man, I thought coming back from Petaluma to SF on 101 South last night was bad.  Basically every car was swerving and just generally DUI-ing all over the road.  Terrifying.

But, amazingly enough, just driving around SF this morning was actually worse.  I don't know if people are still drunk or they just let the idiot of the family drive as a Christmas present or what, but I saw some truly terrible driving today.

EXHIBIT A:  Driving up Ninth to Market, you can turn left on Market from - quelle surprise! - the LEFT HAND LANE.

This was my plan: to turn left onto Market from the left-hand lane. Simple in scope; presumptively easy in execution.  As I approached the intersection, the light turned red.  A black BMW was in the lane to my right.  The BMW, unfazed by the now-red light and resolute in determination, turned left in front of me, not letting either the fact that he was in the wrong lane or that the light was red, affect his steely intention to get shit done.

EXHIBIT B: Not 2 blocks away on Market, a car sits, left turn signal on, trying to make a left turn directly under a large "No Left Turns" sign.  Cars pile up behind this Mensa candidate and start honking.  He will not be deterred.  He will turn left.  Your rules mean nothing to him.

EXHIBIT C: The piece de resistance, if you will.  The scene is Church, just past Duboce, approaching Hermann.

This story involves a Prius, so you know it's gonna be good.  Prius drivers are, without any question, the Worst Drivers in the World.  I don't know if innately bad drivers prefer Priuses or if driving a Prius turns you into a clueless asshole, but there it is.

OK.  So there are two buses where you see the bus in the picture.  Both of them are waiting to turn left at the stop sign.  Prius is behind Bus #2; I am behind Prius.  Now, these buses are not idling or stopped or broken down; they're simply observing correct stop sign behavior.

THIS NONSENSE WILL NOT STAND FOR MR. PRIUS.  Buses!  Stop signs!  They are impediments for puny mortals, not for the Godlike Titan who pilots the Prius.  He pulls out into the wrong lane, passes the two buses going up Church the wrong way, forcing the front bus, who is now beginning to turn left and whose driver must have been thinking "WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IN FUCK IS THIS FUCKING IDIOT DOING", to suddenly stop, and turns left onto Hermann.  I was PRAYING some car would whip around the corner and head-on collide this festering sore on the face of humanity, but no such luck.  He got away with it.  They always do.

Be careful out there.  It is truly a free-for-all on the roads, and you may not make it.  Stay home with a bottle of Bulleit and cable TV instead.

These mugshots from 1870's England are fantastic

It's 4 pm on Friday!  Nobody's reading this. I guess you're reading it in the future. Anyway.

Whilst perusing the Internet, I recently came across this dynamite gallery of mugshots of criminals in Newcastle, England between 1871 and 1873.  It's like the Bustedmugshots.com of 19th century England!  FASCINATING.

Here's John Grieveson.  He got busted for stealing pigeons!  That implies people wanted pigeons, for some reason. I guess to eat, ew.  Anyway, put a hoodie on John and you could plop him down in Dolores Park this afternoon and nobody would notice.  Except they would go "HEY MAN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU EATING PIGEONS!"

William Brankston did a month bit for stealing four rabbits.  Lots of animal thieves in Newcastle.  Anyway, he looks like a kindly hobbit.  Also, love the coat.

Hey, if you're a girl, have you ever said to yourself "I HAVE GOT TO HAVE THOSE BOOTS!"  I bet you have.  That's what Alice Mulholland said, too.  Except she didn't pay for them and did three months in gaol.  (NOTE: Many of Newcastle's Most Wanted do the hands-clasped pose for their mugshot.  I guess that was the Style of the Day.)

OK, you guess:

What do you think Edward Shevlin stole? BOOZE, RIGHT?  That's what I thought too!  Nope, it was a coat.  Hopefully not the one he's wearing here, because that shit is BUSTED.  He is from Ireland, though, so that explains why he looks shitfaced.

James Richley stole trivets.  Trivets!  Which, CBS helpfully tells us, "were used as supports for kettles."  James Richley is not the kind of man who WOULD SET A KETTLE DOWN UPON A TABLE WITHOUT A TRIVET.  GOOD DAY TO YOU, SIR.

Last but absolutely not least, the star of our show:

Robert Hardy, ladies and gentlemen.  I think he's a bartender at Pop's, no shit.  The next time you're in Pop's, casually ask the bartender who looks like this guy about time travel and see if he spooks.  Anyway, Robert Hardy served four months in Newcastle Gaol for "stealing ale in 1873 with two accomplices." RIGHT FUCKING ON.  You go steal your pigeons and rabbits, other Mugshots of 1870s Newcastle.  I'll just be over here having some ales with Robert Hardy.

ALES TIME!!!!!!!!

Have a good weekend.

Muni bus plows into Yeezus and the Christian Post or something

SO MUCH TODAY. Well, some.  I don't know about "so much."  Never mind.

FIRST: Muni passenger stops out of control bus!

Seriously, watch the video in that link.  It's got it all.  Muni!  A hero passenger named Frank Primus!  Bicyclists jumping out of the way! A girl with vocal fry saying she was scared out of her mind! How this was not the most Twittered about event in the history of SF, I don't know.  Because it didn't happen in the Mission, I guess?

SF Appeal says the bus hit an illegally U-Turning car. GOOD. 

SECOND: The #1 album in the country today is by Black Sabbath.  Just let that sink in for a second. [UPDATE: You know what just occurred to me?  It's probably the #1 album because Black Sabbath fans are the only people old enough to go to a store and buy a physical CD. Fuck, they might even buy vinyl without realizing it's hipster to buy vinyl.  They buy vinyl because they still have the record player they had in 1977.]

THIRD: Next week's #1 album will surely be Kanye's "Yeezus."  Sure, any dorky white guy at Pitchfork can give Yeezus a 9.5 (and I apologize in advance if Ryan Dombal, who "creates GIFs for Pitchfork's Tumblr" and "lives in Fort Greene, Brooklyn," isn't a white guy, although come the fuck on), but what we want to know is what the Christian Post thinks!

ANSWER: Not bad! 

Yeezus never lacks passion or direction which is an aspect of the album that can be respected. It certainly is a cohesive work at just 10 tracks clocking in at around 40mins. It is also the first of Kanye's albums to feature more than one beat from a producer other than himself. Daft Punk, a group Kanye once sampled for crafting hit records such as 'Stronger' is behind the boards for the first three songs on Yeezus. The electro pop dance group energizes the rapper bringing out a side of him that was missing from MBDTF.

That's actually not a bad take on it, Christian Post!  Color me surprised!

 There are a few blasphemous lines here and there, but the self proclaimed man of God sticks to his usual dabbling in Christianity mentality recognizing that Jesus is still the Most High while spitting some of his most over-sexed lyrics to date throughout the rest of the project. He functions as an unashamed walking contradiction which is something he has been for most of his career.

OK then, Christian Post!  If you're willing to let a "few blasphemous lines here and there" slide, I guess it's cool.

(BTW, Christian Post isn't kidding about over-sexed lyrics. Don't know if Christian Post was specifically thinking of "Put my fist in her like a civil rights sign" or not, but maybe!)

Anyway, I'm not sure how I feel about this album, but I can't stop listening to it. It's actually kind of brilliant, I think.

OH WAIT, ONE MORE THING.

Napa, you sly dog.

The Bachelorette: It's a disaster! No, really.

So after Chris Harrison patiently explains the rules AGAIN to the remaining, and clearly puzzled, idiots, we're off to Atlantic City which was kind of a fucking dump when I went there like 20 years ago but maybe they've cleaned shit up or whatnot.  We're kicking off with a Solo Date with Brad, the one with the shameful secret child MADDOX and the fun-lovin ex.  Brad is as bland and featureless as a field of gently waving wheat but Dez tries to kick him into high gear with her k-razy hijinx like some rides on the boardwalk and invading a chocolate production facility and plucking food off the fucking line like Jesus where is the fucking health inspector and now some of you may be pulling long Desiree hair from your chocopretzels or whatever. 

For dinner we decamp to some lighthouse thing where Brad mumbles quietly about nothing until some stimuli triggers a rudimentary memory of the events earlier that day.  "I keep thinking about our..." he begins.  USE YOUR WORDS BRAD. OUR WHAT? But the best he can do is a "whoosh" sound and a hand gesture. I think he's talking about some ride they went on.  Our maybe the time he took an airplane up into the sky.

Perhaps sensing that spending any more time with Brad would be like teaching Mandarin to a pug, Des wisely ditches him and he cries and gets in a cab.  "I don't think she rejected me," he says. I don't think Brad knows what "rejected" means.

The Group Date thing was just painful and I'm not going to go into a lot of details but essentially it featured a bunch of them competing in some faux beauty pageant.  This sorry affair was only redeemed by the presence of "world famous pageant coach Mr. Christopher Dean" who was there purely to turn the FABULOUS up to 1000 but can do little to help out.  Somehow they drugged/paid a number of hapless citizens to attend this shit tornado.  It's all about as awful as it sounds WAIT DID JUAN PABLO JUST SAY HE HAD A DAUGHTER? Did we know that already? Is there any contestant who doesn't have kids? What the fuck? Somebody "won," I guess.  I was kinda zoned out at this point.

Post, yet another pool party.  The guy who looks like James Mercer from the Shins writes poetry! Look, he's reading a poem! It's from the roses-are-red school of ABAB rhyme scheme poetry like you'd expect. Later, Drilling Fluid Engineer busts out the guitar to bore Des with a song that is a cross between "She Talks to Angels" by the Black Crowes and a My Feelings Mad Libs. At least he doesn't appear to be hopped up on the amphetamines and grinning like a Human Skull like he usually is.

Solo date with 1920's Wanted Poster James. Oh Jesus, they're off to survey the damage done by Hurricane Sandy.  The first helicopter ride of the season is kind of a drag, I have to tell you.  Off we go over the destroyed homes and stuff.  THINK OF ALL THE NEW JERSEYANS WHO CAN'T GET BODY PIERCED NOW.

The Bummercopter lands in Seaside Heights where we meet an oddly accented older couple who lived through the hurricane and tour their gutted home.  YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN SAVE US NOW BACHELORETTE.  Instead of fixing their house, Dez dipatches them to dinner at the House of Blues in Atlantic City.  James' heart is broken and also he would like some spaghetti.  Oh good, now we have to follow the Olds on their date.  They actually have way more personality than anyone on this show.  Back at spaghetti, James has a dark secret to confess!  He did something terrible once!  Holy shit, what is it gonna be? Wait, what? You CHEATED ON YOUR GIRLFRIEND FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE?  Really?  Who didn't?  That's the best you can do?  Wait a minute, you were with her for 5 years before college?  I think your secret is "I had sex with a 14-year-old girl."  There, fixed it for you.

James and Des are reunited with the Olds, who now have one more trial to endure - a solo show by Darius Rucker.  The Olds look panicked but will make it through this together.  Oh, Darius Rucker got coke-skinny at some point!  He plays some "music" and whatever.

Pre Rose Ceremony party.  That doofus Michael has some kind of manual PowerPoint presentation with scraps of paper and a Sharpie.  There's some issue with Bryden but I couldn't really follow.  He wants to get off the show?  He's not sure Des is here for the right reasons?  I don't really know.  Nobody cares.  Go, leave if you want to.

Oh fuck only one getting the boot tonight.  Comes down to MIKEY and Some Guy and duh since MIKEY is obviously a Drama Source you know he's not going anywhere so hasta la vista, Some Guy.  He's shocked and doesn't know how this happened.  You should watch the show sometime. It'll help you decode this awful mystery.

NEXT WEEK D tells us we are going where "the men wear lederhosen."  OH GOOD WE'RE GOING TO THE IT'S A SMALL WORLD RIDE AT DISNEYLAND. Oh, we're going to Munich. OK then.

True Tales of the Tenderloin

I've got a friend who's in her early 60's (but looks a lot younger) and works in the Tenderloin.  She told me she was walking to go work out down there and she passed what looked like a guy hassling this kind of scared-looking woman.  She's a do-gooder at heart, so she did what most of us would never do and stopped to ask the woman if she needed any help.  The woman, who was clearly shaken, said she was looking for the YMCA.  "Oh, that's where I'm going," my friend said.  "I'm going to the gym to work out."

The guy who was hassling the woman looked at her and said "Bitch, you don't need to work out!"

She said it was the best compliment she's ever gotten.

No real point to this story except I think it's hilarious.

Have a great weekend!

Burrito!: The Musical

Inspired originally by a tweet from Dan Jackson, with additional comments by BurritoJustice and others.

Act I

Carlos and Esmerelda are the proprietors of La Tradición, a small, independent burrito parlor that serves a loyal and grateful clientele.  Each burrito is lovingly handcrafted, and they use only the finest ingredients.  People come from far and wide for their specialty, the "Burrito Zafiro," made with a blue tortilla.

Song: "Beans and Rice and Love"

One day, Bobby, a loyal customer, warns them that a major burrito chain, Burrito Bandito, is coming to town.  Bobby worries that Burrito Bandito's massive ad campaigns and cheaper burritos will put La Tradición out of business.

Song: "Horsemeat and Spray Cheese"

Carlos and Esmerelda assure Bobby there's nothing to worry about; people will always choose higher quality over cheaper price.  Bobby is not so sure.

Song: "Old Navy Blues"

Meanwhile, Carlos and Esmerelda's daughter Gabriela has some exciting news: she has a new beau, Roger! She brings him around to meet her parents, and they are pleased.  Roger is a nice young man who is polite and respectful, not like Gabriela's ex-boyfriend Gaspar, who played in a punk band and joined an underground anti-gentrification cell.

Song: "New Love Is Like Guacamole"

One day, a stranger comes into the store.  He introduces himself as E. Conommy Ofscale and tells Carlos and Esmerelda he works for Burrito Bandito.  They greet the stranger warmly and offer to prepare him a Supreme with Carne Asada to welcome the new business to town, but he refuses, explaining that he doesn't really eat burritos. Ofscale tells Carlos and Esmerelda that they had better get ready; Burrito Bandito is coming to town and would crush them like it crushes all its competition - with ultra-cheap mass-produced burritos, an ad campaign targeted at Thought Leaders, and plenty of Tostitos brand salsa.  Carlos and Esmerelda look aghast.  "What, you don't put lettuce in your burritos?," Ofscale asks.  Esmerelda faints to the floor.

Song: "What Have You Done To My Burrito"

Gabriela and Roger arrive just as Ofscale leaves.  The old couple, distraught, explain to them what just happened.  Roger, who has a business degree, volunteers to try and help Carlos and Esmerelda fight the corporate behemoth.  They gratefully accept his offer.  Great, he says.  He'll just need to look at their books.

Song: "I'll Just Need to Look At Your Books"

Burrito Bandito opens nearby and immediately crowds are drawn to its huge dining room and cheap prices.  To Carlos and Esmerelda's shock, Burrito Bandito introduces a new, special menu item, the "Burrito de Blue Tortilla," made with a blue tortilla, just like La Tradición's Burrito Zafiro!  Carlos and Esmerelda don disguises and visit the new competitor.

Song: "Don't Mind Us, We're Just Know-Nothings With No Sense of Taste Here To Sample Your So-Called Burritos"

Carlos is shocked.  "It's the same tortilla as the Burrito Zafiro!," he exclaims.  "How could they have gotten our recipe?  We're finished, Esmerelda, finished!"

Act II

Burrito Bandito is booming while business at La Tradición has fallen off, largely fueled by the runaway success of Burrito Bandito's Burrito de Blue Tortilla.  Carlos and Esmerelda are sadly contemplating closing the store.

Song: "I Will Water My Cilantro With Tears"

The next day, a mysterious young man comes into the store.  He peruses the menu and asks for an al pastor with no cheese and extra jalapenos.  As Carlos prepares the burrito, he suddenly realizes: "Gaspar! Is that you?"  The man smiles and nods, removing the Google Glass and startup sweatshirt he was wearing as a disguise.  "Yes, it is I!," Gaspar says.  He tells them he is here to help them battle the evil corporate chain.

Song: "A Molotov Is the Spiciest Salsa Of All"

As they talk, Gabriela and Roger arrive.  The old lovers at first trade barbs, but it is soon apparent that beneath their frosty exterior, there are still feelings between them. After Gabriela and Roger leave, Gaspar tells Carlos and Esmerelda that he is suspicious of Roger; something just didn't seem right.

Song: "Yuppie No Bueno"

One night, Gaspar and some other members of LENGUA, the Loyal Eternal No Gentrification Underground Association, plan to break into Burrito Bandito.  Matty, a recent UC Santa Cruz graduate with a degree in Ethnic Studies, wants to burn it to the ground, but Gaspar cautions against this.

Song: "Chill Out, My College Marxist Brother"

Instead, Gaspar convinces the group that gathering information about Burrito Bandito will ultimately prove more worthwhile.  The team agrees and, under cover of darkness, they break into Burrito Bandito.  What they find shocks even these hardcore revolutionaries - stacks of cans labeled "Bean-Flavored Product," bags of raw pigeon meat, and, worst of all, the secret ingredients for La Tradición's Burrito Zafiro!  As they photograph the scene, a startled Roger emerges from a back room.

Song: "Holy Shit What the Fuck Are You Doing Here"

"I knew it!," Gaspar exclaims. LENGUA notifies the police, who soon arrive and arrest Roger for Second Degree Burrito Embezzlement.  LENGUA publishes the damning photos.  Burrito Bandito is finished and closes in shame.

Months later, we are at the wedding of Gaspar and Gabriela. La Tradición is thriving once again. Carlos and Esmerelda tearfully reflect on their good fortune, their station in the burrito world firmly fixed.

Song: "Burritos (Make the World Go Round)"

Other new Arizona laws

via Reuters:

Arizona law forces cities to resell guns from buy-back programs

By David Schwartz

PHOENIX (Reuters) - Arizona Governor Jan Brewer on Monday signed legislation forcing municipalities to resell firearms from gun buy-back programs rather than destroy them, closing a loophole in the conservative state's laws.

Brewer, a Republican and staunch gun rights advocate, signed the bill preventing local governments from melting down the weapons obtained from these popular civic events. Before the new law, the state had allowed such firearms to be destroyed. 

In light of this forward-thinking and badly needed legislation, I have proposed the additional new laws for Arizona:

- Abortion completely free and legal, but only if you don't want one.

- Stolen property must be destroyed before being returned to rightful owner.

- Limits on campaign contributions removed, but contributions must be made in cash in large cloth bags with "$$$" printed on side; must be presented by man with waxed mustache and monocle.

- You can murder one person a year, but you must use your bare hands and potential victim must be given moped and 10-minute head-start.

-  8th car wash free

- Your Significant Other can veto your restaurant choice with no ill will or resentment from you once a month.  This applies even if he/she (but c'mon, you know it's "she") initially says "I don't care, anywhere's fine."

- Gladiatorial-style combat between foster children approved; winner gets Super Slam breakfast at Denny's and one pair shoes.

- Vote for a Democrat? Automatically entered in the state's Adopt-A-Copperhead program.

- Giving businesses Spanish names now illegal.  "Tortas de Fuego" must change name to "Sandwich of Fire."

- Marrying your gun now legal.  May not marry multiple guns; that makes a mockery of marriage.

Let's all get together and protest this Recology rate increase

I know what you're saying: Oh God, not this again.  He's going to go on about recycling poachers again, like he does over and over and over.  It's true!  It's one of my Personal Obsessions.  No, seriously, it bothers me for a couple of legitimate reasons: (1) Every Monday night, there's constant noise outside my window as these little fucking shits systematically empty every single recycling bin in my neighborhood, and (2) they're not especially careful about it, so a lot of extraneous paper and shit gets taken out of the cans and scattered about, increasing the Net Dirtiness Factor of me neighborhood.  Also, some of it is Purely Irrational Hate at this point.  You can talk to my former shrink about that; he could probably explain it better than I could.

But now we have an opportunity to do something pointless and futile about it!  As you may or may not know, Recology is seeking a 21.51% rate increase, which would mean an increase of around $7 for most people.  If you're a renter, you probably don't pay for garbage and don't give a shit about this.  BUT BUT BUT even if you're a renter, you still get to protest this and at least bitch about recycling poachers in the process.  HERE'S HOW.

You can write a letter!  The Department of Public Works is having a hearing on Friday, June 13, to consider written protests.  Here's your chance to bitch about this. Send your angry-ish, but not crazy-sounding, letter to:

Refuse Collection Rate Hearing Officer
c/o Department of Public Works
1 Dr. Carlton B. Goodlett Place
City Hall, Room 348
San Francisco, CA 94102


Here's what you might say: "I hear that Recology is trying to raise their rates.  Presumably they're doing this because they need more money.  I've got a great idea!  They're losing a huge potential revenue stream to recycling thieves every year.  Instead of raising rates on their customers, how about taking some simple steps to combat this problem?  One solution might be locking recycling bins.  The City of Pasadena managed to do this for only $1.34 per month.  If Pasadena can do it, certainly San Francisco can, no?  What, is Pasadena better than us?  If that's what Recology thinks, why don't they just move to Pasadena then?"


No, wait, I got a little carried away.  Delete those last two sentences.  Jazz it up however you want, but remember:  "Each protest must identify the subject premises (by street address or refuse collection account number) and include the signature of the customer submitting the protest."  So put your address on it and sign it.

Now, if we can just get you and everyone you know and everybody else in this godforsaken city to do this, we'll get somewhere.  This is never going to work.  Never mind.