For some reason, there has been a recent spike in people trying to anoint “the Mission's best burrito.”  I don't think anyone will deny how futile this quest is, but the quest is pretty telling on how people the internet approaches the subject.  For example, Mission Loc@l's recent poll (visualized above) had El Farolito and Cancun within .77 points of each other, receiving 179 and 172 respective votes out of 905.  Yet, Taqueria San Francisco, the 3rd best burrito in the Mission according to Burrito Eater, only received 1 vote.  This only confirms my suspicion that people generally only eat what the SFBG tells them is the best burrito and really only bother to eat what's convenient to them.  Sure, I eat a fair share of La Corneta, but that's only because it's a block from my house and I'm too lazy to waddle somewhere else.  Frequenting a place doesn't make it the best.

Anyway, I digress.  Even if Mission Loc@l's verdict was slightly bias in favor of locations easily accessible by BART, you have to respect them for at least being democratic.  7x7, on the other hand, is conducting a sampling of Mission burritos for their upcoming “food issue” in which Marina moms team up with two chefs to determine who makes the top tube of calories.  Commence eye-rolling…

(Mission Loc@l)

Viracocha, that antique shop for cool kids on Valencia at 20th, has a stack of Bay Area newspapers from the 1920s and '40s for ten bucks each.  As you can imagine, the papers are an incredible read:

• “Holdup on Market Street!”
• The Board of Sups debate removing the rails from Market Street (2010 cyclists would be grateful).
• 14-year-old girl shoots “her boyish admirer after a quarrel.”
• “Don't do it!” was cited, in bold, as a “reason to live” given to a would-be suicide jumper.

Anyway, while digging through articles about killing Nazis and sunny weather, I came across this gem upon the front page of the April 20th, 1922 edition of The Bulletin:

Go while the gettin's good.

A coalition of media organizations marched through Oakland Friday evening in protest of the “light sentence” given to former BART police officer Johannes Mehserle.

“We're marching against racist, fascist cops and the courts that support them.  We are all Oscar Grant, ” said a spokesman for KRON-TV 4.

The press pool marched through Oakland following an peaceful rally at the steps of City Hall, where nearly 500 people gathered to remember Oscar Grant and denounce Mehserle's sentence.

As darkness fell, the crowd of journalists, interns, photographers, and unemployed Berkeley graduates became agitated by the lack of front page stories.  One San Francisco Chronicle intern, who declined to give her name, paid a bystander 75 cents in quarters, a half drank Four Loko, a Muni transfer ticket and some weed to jump on a taxicab at the intersection of 14th and Broadway.

Soon after, the journalists, joined by a few dozen civilians, began marching down 14th.  It was rumored that the mob was headed to the Fruitvale BART station, where Mehserle shot and killed Oscar Grant on January 1st, 2009, causing BART officials to shut down the station.

As the march proceeded down International Blvd., numerous windows were smashed and a half-dozen cars broken into by six actors followed by camera crews.

Sensing a growing frustration amongst the press with the general lack of violence and destruction by bystanders, Police Chief Anthony Batts ordered Officers to arrest people on sight, as a measure to “help alleviate the bloodlust.”  By 8pm over 100 individuals were arrested and lined up in front of a taped-off press box on 6th Ave.

As the night wound down, a photographer could be heard exclaiming, “drinks on the Examiner!”

It didn't take long for the media to turn the World Series into a referendum on red states vs. blue states / rich libural Jews and Berkeley educated communists vs. Joe the Plumber.  Just read how Steve Blow (sounds like a porn name) kicked off his column in yesterday's Dallas Morning News:

Frankly, I'm surprised they still play baseball in San Francisco.

I figured that by now someone here would have decided that baseball chalk isn't Earth-kind or that the game is overtly sexist or gender-role confining or some such claptrap.

San Francisco doesn't deserve to win the World Series . Maybe every resident deserves a Nobel Prize for being so dang enlightened. But, please, save baseball's highest achievement for a bunch of Regular Joes who earned it.

Ohhhhhh snap.  I think it's adorable that fans of a team of “Regular Joes” that has never been to the World Series want to win, but is The City's collective intelligence the only reason we don't deserve to win?  GO ON:

Here's a classic example of our differences. The mayor of San Francisco is a guy named Gavin Newsom. Yes, Gavin Newsom. And if the name isn't debonair enough, you should see him. He looks like a movie star or male model. He reeks of San Francisco effete.

Meanwhile, Arlington has a mayor named Robert Cluck. Cluck! And as for his looks, I think we can all agree that he has a great personality.

Mr. Blow, let me let you in on a little secret: even San Franciscans don't like Newsom and laugh at his looks.  Hell, Newsom's hair even has its own Twitter account.  Yeah, he pushed through gay marriage, and we respect him for doing that, but he's terrible at running the economy and bends over to business interests just like your Ranger In Chief.  You're going to have to do better than that.

[Arlington Mayor Robert Cluck] is a Regular Joe. Just like Regular Joe Barton , who represents Arlington in Congress.

Wait, Joe Barton, the Congressman who apologized to BP this summer?  Are you even trying?

But there are other differences in the cities, too. Like climate.

In San Francisco, Giants fans sip hot chocolate and wear coats and jackets to games all summer long. They're not purified into a higher state of baseball consciousness by enduring games at the Ballpark/Sweat Lodge in Arlington.

Then there are the team colors. The Giants are all decked out in Halloween black and orange – the only holiday devoted to evil spirits. What are the Rangers' colors? Let's say 'em together. Red, white and blue.

It's obvious who should win this thing.

Sigh.

(link)