— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
According to some non-scientific survey of stickers on a Clarion Alley wall, Mission residents have twice voiced their desire for less hipsters and more pussy/booty, with single votes going to more art, places to BM, and various folk's self-promotion. And all that sounds just fine and pressing, I guess, but, really, I think we can all agree one which is the most pressing:
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
[via BAD KIDS]
— By Zach Perkins |
Ordinary Weirdos appears to be San Francisco's very own version of “You're On Candid Camera” meets an Art School exercise in voyeuristic banality (BAM! FILM SCHOOL! GOT MY MONEY'S WORTH MOM AND DAD.)
The first Ordinary Weirdos video I saw featured a pair of transients smoking and drinking outside a McDonald’s, and I was concerned that the whole thing was going to be some sort of class-tourism video-expedition-into-poverty for the sake of “art”. But the next few videos that I watched, featuring a surfer changing out of a wetsuit behind his Corvette and a woman with a well-endowed posterior posing for wedding party photos, assured me that Ordinary Weirdos was voyeuristic simply for the oddly compelling creep factor alone. There’s something soothing about the stillness of these videos that appeals to the lurker in us all. Or at least just in me.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
We've always been a fan of the mixtape, but it's lost its luster as sharing Rdio playlists has almost zero intimacy and only awful people still own working tape players. But slapping up a handwritten playlist on the side of a Muni? This could be the resurgence the lost tradition of mixtape swapping needs.
[via Muni Diaries]
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Unfortunately, I was out of town this year's Santacon, so I didn't get to witness the ritualistic ruination of thousands of ho-hum dipshits (jk!) participating in the festivities every San Franciscan is too cool to like. And while I'm not particularly sorry about missing out on the final year of wrinkled old men in ass-less Santa suits prematurely triggering my gag reflex, I am bummed I didn't get to catch a ride on this guy's motorized Santa sleigh (even if it is drifting dangerously close to desecrating our bike lanes).
Sadly, there aren't any great close-up shots of this guy zigzagging down Valencia, but, in the spirit of the event, there is a solid blurry one.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
My internet-centricity tells me this is some sort of harsh criticism of our dependence on the series of tubes for entertainment and mental nourishment, but Cranky Old Mission Guy seems to think it's some sort of dumb “old hippie newspaper cartoon.” (Shrugs)
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
I generally avoid directly writing about criticism lobbed at Uptown Almanac. It's an uncomfortable and inherently masturbatory admission that this blog is worthy of criticism, which I'm not certain it is. And our troll-spiced comment section is often a fine and illuminating forum for such discussion. However, the sheer amount of criticism we've received for our role in “promoting” and “celebrating” the vandalism begs a response.
In some respects, I get it—this is the third riot in six months that's left the neighborhood bleeding with nary a response from SFPD. People rightfully want answers; businesses demand to know when the costly damages will cease. And are we going to have to repave the badly scarred Mission Street again?
Naturally, the finger-pointing began immediately. Some elected to blame SFPD for neglecting their duties, many went with the tried-and-true Oakland boogeyman. But, much to my surprise, some opted to blame the likes of UA and Mission Mission. Apparently because I and others post pictures of graffiti and street art, we encourage bad behavior.
Talk about shooting the messenger.
It feels utterly ridiculous to have this conversation again 24 years after Jean-Michel Basquiat shot up one too many times and six years after “Graffiti” landed at the Brooklyn Museum, but it seems necessary and, unfortunately, timely.
I don't see graffiti as some sort of black and white, Republican or Democrat, love or hate activity and art form. Rather, like every cultural wedge issue we're forced to tackle, it's a bit more nuanced. It's not universally bad—how could it be? If it keeps movie posters and cell phone advertisements off plywood, I eagerly welcome it. If it livens up the storm barriers along Ocean Beach, awesome. And if it's talented and interesting? All the better.
But like everything, there are shitty and worthless guys out there trashing innocent homes, businesses, and public resources. Sunday night's melee obviously falls into that category. However, I don't subscribe to the preposterous theory that the action of 15 taggers leveraging a crowd of thousands as cover delegitimizes the whole shebang. That's a step away from labeling music with guitars as absolutely horrible because Nickelback exists.
Please.
Some of my friend's businesses were thoroughly trashed Sunday night, costing them hundreds of dollars they cannot spare. My favorite venue is covered with tags that cannot be easily removed. Murals that artists slaved over are forever fucked. And of course I feel horrible for them and hope they find relief. However, I refuse to accept blame because I enjoy graffiti of the harmless variety.
Anyway, it's time for me to wash the ejaculate off my keyboard and take a long, numbing shower. Thanks for reading.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Building the Marina and South Park on human garbage didn't work out so well once the ground started shaking, so why not try again with a big ol' hunk of ham?
