Drink Deep

What We Loved Was Not Enough

2012-02-07T06:14:00.000-08:00

ASMZ @ GAMH, 2/6/12

Anarcho Semiotics: Dave King Exhibit @ Goteblüd

2011-11-06T11:10:00.000-08:00

For full disclosure, I was 2 when Dave King created the iconic snake-cross image that came to represent Crass. For further full disclosure, I was never much of a Crass fan. I like what they represent(ed) but not their music. That being said, "destroy power, not people" resonated deeply with me when I was first cutting my teeth with hardcore punk.

Dave King and I with two fresh stencils. Photo: Matt Wobenstein

The symbol--both a sign and a signifier--is too ubiquitous to ignore and it was with great pleasure that I found my way to an exhibit of Dave King's original images at Goteblüd, the fanzine shop that's literally out my back door here in the Mission. Saturday's opening was fairly well attended despite the rain, and King himself was incredibly generous with his time, answering questions and enjoying the steady trickle of folks who came by Sunday afternoon to have t-shirts, skateboards, and even pillow cases stenciled.

The original mock-up

If you're in the neighborhood, stop by and support Dave's work as well as the shop's. Spots like these are few and far between.

Dove "remix" on coquille board

A powerful sentiment, though I wish it'd been coffee

Ban the Bomb-snake

From the show's catalog/zine

At the opening

Cobra Crack, Squamish

2011-11-04T06:32:00.000-07:00

(re-posted from Mason Earle's blog)

Falling off the Cobra from Mason Earle on Vimeo.

... damn!

Between the Notes: Pandit Pran Nath, Birds, Sunn O)))

2011-10-31T18:13:00.000-07:00

In Between The Notes: A Portrait of Pandit Pran Nath (1986) from Maxime Guitton on Vimeo.

ihearashadow

2011-09-17T17:14:00.000-07:00

I hear a shadow
I hear a shadow
I hear a shadow
I witness a scream
I drink of this a poison Eucharist
Your blood your assimilation
Created for comfort
For convenience

These boundaries nurture ignorance
Finding meaning in nothing
This void fills the space
It fuels darkened cries
Listen to this eclipse rise
I hear a shadow
I hear a shadow
I hear a shadow

These sick rituals pass time
Awaiting this execution passes time
Gargle with glass
Awaiting this execution passes time
Withered icons cut veins
Drown in this pacification

Denial will only slow the process
It fuels darkened cries
Listen to this eclipse rise
Drink this essence of freedom
(Rorschach)))

Photos: Gilman, 9/16/11
Video (above):Thee Parkside, 9/17/11
All were shot by me.

Rorschach - 7/20/93 - The Rose, Rapid City, SD from Rapid City Punk Rock Archive on Vimeo.

(7/20/93 footage, The Rose, Rapid City, SD c/o Rapid City Punk Archive)

Venturi Effect, Incredible Hulk

2011-07-19T11:43:00.000-07:00

The Hulk inspires. Period. As summer gloom settles in here in SF and it feels more and more like winter elsewhere, it's good to remember the warmth of late day light on the East Side after a long, intense day on the high lonesome.

Croft and Nettle's Venturi Effect has become the backcountry test piece, and with good reason. Rapping down the upper headwall reveals some of the most pristine rock anywhere. It feels light years away from where I'm sitting now, but these videos give all the more reason to keep training and dreaming big.

BD athletes Kate Rutherford and Brittany Griffith attempt Venturi Effect (IV 5.12) on the Incredible Hulk, High Sierras, CA from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

Don't Be Late: Bean Bowers RIP

2011-07-15T15:21:00.000-07:00

The late Bean Bowers on St. Exupery, Fitz Roy Massif (Jvan Tresch photo)

I never met Bean Bowers, but the stories being shared in the wake of his passing make me feel his absence all the same. Each year brings another death within the tribe and with each death the reminder to cherish our partnerships, double-check our knots, and make the most of our time together.

Read Andrew McLean's tribute here.

A fundraiser to help defray the cost of Bean's cancer treatment and assist his wife can be found here.

Sleestak Liberation Front/MCMF

2011-07-14T10:43:00.001-07:00

M*C*M*F*

Pat Benetar meets New Model Army at a Bomb Squad after party

A week in 'The Creek'

2011-04-18T18:09:00.000-07:00

It was time: my grades were posted, gear was assembled, and much coffee had been brewed. All that stood between me and a care-free week in Indian Creek was a seemingly endless drive across I 80, the kind I've been swearing off the last few years. With the help of an audiobook version of Satanic Verses and an able-bodied co-pilot, we set off for what will hopefully become a new spring ritual; a new tribal rite.

What exactly has become of public art in Utah?

Soaring windgate and the uber-classic 'Luxury Liner'

An arsenal fit for wide fetishists and weak-ankled youth alike

Big bros...of many kinds

Late light in the throne room of the gods

Bizarro architecture...what is holding up that flake?

Not to be deterred, Em jammed on, earning her red badge of courage

Heavy on the Freak Sauce: Rough Cut

2010-09-24T18:25:00.001-07:00

Fifteen years ago, not knowing what I'd gotten myself into, I put out a book of flyer art from the Southern California hardcore punk scene, 1981-1991. Dozens of penpals contributed portions of their collections to the effort and Bruce Licher of Independent Project Press printed the covers. It sold moderately well despite a scathing review in Heart Attack and predated the exceptional Fucked Up and Photocopied by five years. The whole project was assembled by hand, literally cut and pasted together at my kitchen table, a fittingly crude but ephemeral protest against conventional desktop publishing. Here are the original pages, uncut and unadorned. Click on any image to enlarge. Enjoy.

Sunday Market, Tarabuco, Bolivia

2010-06-19T10:16:00.000-07:00

Tarabuco is a tiny, rural pueblo (village) in the Chuquisaca province of Bolivia, about two hours from Sucre. Its main claim to fame is its fine textile design tradition, but it also boasts a fine Sunday market and a really really freaky statue in the center of town.

Bloodlust is alive and well. Take that, first-world tyrants!

Last month I loaded into a precarious bus with a dozen or so other students and clutched the side panels of the rickety vehicle in hopes that the driver wouldn´t pass on every blind turn. I was not lucky on that account, but was treated to a front-seat view of some magnificent landscape and a thrill-ride worthy of an amusement park. My compatriots, in the rear of the bus, were not amused.

The collective heat of this arrangement defies all logic

Like most Bolivian pueblos and campos, Tarabuco is incredibly poor, at least economically speaking. What it has a wealth of are extra-spicy peppers, vendors and traders of every stripe, and especially intricate woven goods.

Garments like these are still worn today (ASUR image)

While I was visiting I got a chance to watch a metalsmith hammer a pick-axe into fine form, meet a cobbler with a wicked sense of humor, and see a grown man muscle a freshly slaughtered pig down a narrow alleyway. I felt like I´d truly arrived!

A modern day Hephaestus

My kicks have seen better days

Give this man a wide berth

I´ve always loved fabric, and this leg of the trip has been a real treat. Some of my very earliest memories are of my mom carding wool, showing me how to drop spin, and weaving on a beautiful Swedish loom that took over our kitchen.

My current favorite textiles feature a character called El Supay. By various turns he´s considered the lord of liminal spaces, the son of Pacha Mama or Tierra Madre (Earth Mother), or, to Spanish conquistadors, El Diablo. In the delicately constructed fiber-arts of this region, El Supay holds sway over a subteranean world of fantastical creatures. Multi-winged griffins mingle with double-headed horses, strange rabbits, and condors. These masterpieces take months to construct and the very finest are displayed at ASUR, a museum of indigenous textile art on Calle San Alberto.

Slightly chaotic, totally captivating

The Jalq´a and Tarabuco weaving tradition is far from dead. A renaissance of sorts is underway where the oral tradition of textile design is being passed from older women to young girls who have found a passion for their craft. Men, too, have become excited by weaving and have developed a unique style of their own. The art and technology of weaving has remained the same for centuries, while designs have continued to evolve. The new work being done now is a reflection of each weaver´s imagination, not a duplication of previous forms.

Colorful work in progress

A young artisan at ASUR

El Supay detail

From the ASUR website:

Tarabuco was situated on the former Inca border with [other] groups farther east. To guard this border from constant invasions, especially by the Chiriguanos, the Inca moved warriors from several different provinces into this area... at some point the descendants of these different groups began to adopt similar customs and dress which, in spite of minor differences in the design of certain garments, gave them a common appearance.

Local performer at lunch

Hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Tarabuco

Sunday shoppers, outside

Inside, a maze of cebollas y zanaorria (onions and carrots)

Frying chicken on a petrol stove

A Tarabuqueño with traditional poncho and less-traditional sombrero

The woman in white is selling cocoa leaves in bulk. The woman with the sturdy shoulder pack is likely carrying a child (wawa in Quechua) and/or goods from the market

Lotus Flower Tower via Packraft (!)

2010-05-24T16:45:00.000-07:00

From the YogaSlackers site

I came across this trip report a while back and am continually amazed at what these ¨slackers¨ pulled off. Their adventure takes the ¨rope, rack, and the shirt on your back¨ dictum just a bit further. Read more here.

Los murales Bolivianos

2010-05-13T11:20:00.001-07:00

(909) 625-ROWR

2010-04-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

(Image borrowed from Israel Lawrence, borrwowing from Justine Demetrick)

Kenyon, Wood, Barnes at the height of their quirky powers.

Intermission #3--an absolute classic

Instant Litter

2010-04-13T07:47:00.001-07:00

I simply love old flyers.

I put together Heavy on the Freak Sauce* in late 1994 and early 1995--well before the far-superior Fucked Up and Photocopied came out--and then let my box of collected flyers dissipate into the ether. Some times I regret giving them away, other times I'm excited to share a little fragment of a near-invisible history with others.

Each of these images is embedded with dozens of untold stories. They shouldn't be fetishized or consumed like another disposable product, but enjoyed, reflected upon, and interrogated.

Don't neglect the heart for the sake of the corpse.

by Steve Chamberlain (TTR)

Che Cafe mayhem

The Grain of Strength really took Ullyses-cum-Mao rhetoric to a whole new place

by Drew Gilbert

First Bread and Circuits show. Flyer by Anthony Lew

First Torches to Rome show. Third Street Kids' flyer

Morbid Mark graphics

One hell of a line-up. Not sure what to make of the imagery

*If I can figure out the technology, I'll digitize HOFS and make it available online soon.

Born Against handbill: flotsam & jetsam of the inter-web

2010-04-12T21:13:00.000-07:00

One of the things that fascinates me about the inter-web is the way chance searches can result in unexpected treasures. Of course the opposite is also possible--a myriad of trash seems to circulate on the web--but the non-linear layout of things in 'cyberspace' does allow for all sorts of interesting discoveries. Example: these flyers from Born Against circa 199-something ('tour 92? Dear Jesus?) via a site with an interview with Gehenna impresario Mike Cheese. Go figure! Enjoy.

To continue reading, check here.

To read an interview with Adam Nathonson, click here. (Adam's Stakolee site seems to be down.)

To be mildly amused by Sam McPheeters, click here.

Other BA paraphernalia from the 'mid 90s' page* on FaceBook:

*A wide variety of people are responsible for that page.

No Sleep Till Columbus

2010-04-12T14:43:00.000-07:00

Last summer I wrote a pretty long set of interview questions for Dennis Berendts (Black Dove/Solar Funeral) and eventually that interview will be posted here. In the meantime, I copied over a few flyers from he and Matt Miner's exceptional website, Bells of Doom Toll.

Exposed rib-cage: check. Locust wings: check. Intertwined locks of doom: check. Let Haloween commence!

Eery raven atop machinery salvaged from Disney's Black Hole

In utero bomb drop?

Stippling: a fine way to use one's OCD

In addition to Black Dove, Dennis played in Three Studies for a Crucifixion, The Awakening, Dismal, Winds of Saturn (unless I'm mistaken), and Teeth of the Hydra. He may also be currently involved with Paralyzer and the wall of sound known as Nukehammer.

Postscript: Seek Columbus hellfire and tinnitus immediately!

Random Views of Buenos Aires

2010-03-27T09:19:00.001-07:00

Our apartment's stairwell

Barrio la Boca

Beautiful architecture despite the lame commerce (Galeria Pacifico)

My best attempt at recreating a Thai dish (peppers are basically non existent in BA)

Ever-present noise comes with terrific public transportation

The Steve McCurry image that Crimethinc used a while back

Endless irregular reflexive verbs

Twenty pounds of allergens: A cat named Hoffa

National Day of Memory for Truth and Justice

2010-03-25T16:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday marked the 34th anniversary of the dictatorship that gripped Argentina from 1976-1983. The 30,000 desparacidos, persons euphemistically disappeared, were remembered and any number of other causes were celebrated. Here are just a few images of the day.

My wife, Elizabeth, wrote a more extensive piece on the demonstration over at Other Climes where several of these images are cross-posted.

Arundhati Roy: Walking with the Comrades

2010-03-22T20:30:00.000-07:00

Take a moment to read Arundhati Roy's interview with tribal insurgents in Central India's Dandakaranya Forests

Fitzroy '68

2010-03-19T17:31:00.000-07:00

The definitive Fitzroy epic: the funhogs' "California Route" as retold by Chris Jones. I tried uploading the scans but couldn't. Do yourself a favor and enlarge the slides to read the account. The mind boggles.

Beyond Driven

2010-03-13T17:47:00.000-08:00

Don't get me wrong, I'm as stoked as the next guy to see dirtbags getting after it, going big in their chosen domain. But I also love finding out about the "everyman" unsung heroes--those who hold down normal jobs, are in functional relationships, and belong to actual communities--who also manage to push the fun meter to 11.

These videos have kept me pretty psyched since returning from Patagonia. Enjoy.

Andrew Skurka, reigning king of the long distance solo walk:

Rafael Slawinski: academic and all around master of those things frozen:

As I come across other inspiring stories, photos, and videos, I'll post them under the "beyond driven" moniker. Stay tuned.

*Neither a direct nor indirect reference to Pantera

Polyphony. Cacophony. Euphony.

2010-03-06T06:52:00.000-08:00

The only thing heavier in Montreal is the snow.

(And Radwan from Ire behind the soundboard when the band climbs in a van.)

Next stop, the Abyss. Vic Chesnutt: 1964-2009

2010-03-05T06:31:00.000-08:00

Jem Cohen photo

I didn't know him and can't even say I knew his music well, but hearing of Vic Chesnutt's suicide really hit me hard. Dark Star Deserter was beautiful and haunting and, anyway, knowing that someone doesn't want to go on just plain hurts.

"Suicide kills everyone." Right?

As much as I'd like to think that those who decide to end their life have something to teach us about what will and would make life worth living it's hard to find some other message in Chesnutt's death. Maybe it's not my place to look.

Friends and observers remember:

Constellation Records missive about Vic's passing

Jem Cohen on the re-issue of West of Rome

Ben Greenman's write-up for the New Yorker

"Loss and Longing and Sloppy Satori" a tribute at Boogy Woogy Flu (Ted Barron)

White. Male. Middle Class.

2010-03-05T05:59:00.000-08:00

See: Fact mag's Guide to HardCore

Maybe not hardcore punk as I know it, but still nice to see Bikini Kill and MDC in the mix. The Big Black artwork always makes me as uncomfortable as the Blasting Concept cover.

(Probably more worth one's while is perusing the Kill From the Heart page.)

Three chords to the universe...

With patience comes reward

2010-02-18T14:19:00.000-08:00

Getting spanked

2010-02-13T11:10:00.000-08:00

Just how old do I need to be to stop trying to be someone who I am not? When do I stop reading about other people´s rad adventures thinking that I could pull off the same effort in the same style with the same gear? Just because Roman Dial hiked 1000 kilometers across the Brooks Range eating crushed Pringles and gummy bears doesn't mean that I can. Hubris seems to make a fool of me far too often.

Five days ago I had myself fully convinced that I could embark on a ten day backpack of the Grande Curcuito in the Torres del Paine wearing little more than what I´d take for a day of cragging on the East Side of the Sierra. Those softshell pants that have dried in minutes after a minor bum-slide down the U-Notch and Snowpatch Col were no match for the incessant, horizontal, bone-chilling rain of Patagonia. The crew -- Z plus two friends from Oakland -- were plagued by other issues as well: blisters, old injuries, a fair distribution of hypothermia. To put it lightly, we got served.

With bruised egos and dry shoes we´ve headed further south to hang with a colony of pinguinos and gather some psych for the next attempt. The Banff Film Fest is in town and I´ve run into a few climbers that I know from back home and online. If our suerte improves and the capricious weather gods smile upon us we´ll take another crack at the Torres.

Sendero al Fitz Roy

2010-02-07T06:59:00.000-08:00

Crossing Rio Torre via tyrolean traverse

Today marks one full month in South America. We´ve been able to cook for ourselves more than on the first leg of the trip and, thankfully, there´s plenty of quality produce and potable water here, a luxury we missed sorely in India and Southeast Asia. Four months without a salad is just plain wrong!

Poincenot-Fitz Roy reflections from Lago de los tres

Anyhow, I´ve been dreaming about Patagonia since I was little. I had pictures of Torres del Paine* up on my wall and read everything I could get my hands on to learn about the area. I wanted to know the terrain and mind-state needed to cope in a place at so intensely beautiful and at the same time foreboding.

In 1968 a group of ´fun hogs´ loaded up their Econoline van and surfed their way down the length of Chile. Then they put up a new route on Fitz Roy. They suffered through a soggy month in a snow cave and their clothing -- state of the art wool and leather -- basically eroded off of them. The suffer-fest continued and they summitted, not that anyone was around to congratulate them. For climbers, that adventure has become the archetypal Patagonia experience.

Below are some images from the land of gargantuan sky, unfathomably strong wind, and really really cute guanacos.

Mighty Cerro Torre with Torre Egger and Standhardt to the right

Madres de los desaparecidos graffiti

Cuevas de las manos

Along with 500 km of this...

...comes a bit of this

The choique (right) looks amazingly calm

If you lived here, you´d be home now

Aloha! (Z--being from Hawi´i--isn´t amused by the cold)

Undeniable radness

Who knew my hair was so delicious?

*Despite what I've heard, Torres del Paine does not translate as Towers of Pain. That'd be just too much truth in advertising.

Howard Zinn: 1922-2010

2010-02-05T18:36:00.000-08:00

Heroes aren´t something people my age seem to have anymore. Maybe it´s because, up close, the dents in the armor cut the person down to something less than what we´ve created in our heads. Zinn´s writing and life story, though, made him different.

I don´t know what to say, but the world is a little colder with his passing.

He probably had no idea about Masshysteri, but I have a feeling that he´d have appreciated the message of this film:

Masshysteri - Tvivel from vanskrot on Vimeo.

Forever Compilation: Video Redux

2010-01-14T16:57:00.000-08:00

Few records stand out in my mind as the index of a time or a feeling or a sound as much as the Forever comp. When I want to explain to someone what hardcore punk is to me, invariably these bands come to mind. I'm dating myself now, but for years I had songs by each of them on cassettes that I literally played off the reels, driving around in my beater '81 pickup. At home, I nearly wore out the vinyl.

Each band was unique and each band was complex. Unfortunately, the mix on the comp hardly stands the test of time. "Checkmate" sounds downright hollow and "Decay" doesn't have the punch that it should. The more I think about it, I love this record for what it represents, not what it sounds like.

Anyhow, I skulked around the inter-tent and pulled together a set of videos for each band as well as a few write-ups by other enthusiasts. Enjoy.

Turning Point

Born Against

Rorschach

Burn

Citizens Arrest

"Pressure's On" at ABC No Rio...I couldn't find anything else

7inchcrust review
Oral history of Turning Point

Daryl Kahan interviewed

Old cXa stuff (also tons of ABC No Rio history)

"Fuck Rock" from Dear Jesus by Sam McPheeters

Burn interview, mainly about the reunion

Charles Maggio interview about the reunions

More Hardcore Punk Ephemera

2010-01-02T19:04:00.000-08:00

CAMPAIgN, on the floor at Scripps College

Burt Hashiguchi, YWCA Berkeley

Poppin' Fresh in '87, suckas

Juggler/Fire-eater/Trial member at Inside Out reunion, summer 1993

Mountain Monthly (sticky dessert recipe and 'Victory for hate' commentary)

Honeywell at Scripps. Yes, that's Justin from Struggle looking at the camera.

Zack de la Rocha at Inside Out reunion, 1993

CAMPAIgN

Aaron Kenyon, MITB, at The Jabberjaw

Butch at Submission Hold House, Vancouver

Jake Hockel preparing for tour

Carrie Crawford, Former Members of Alfonsin

Henry Barnes, MITB

AFC studio

Zach Hydar (?) photo

Jos, Seein Red in Portland

Snapcase at the Glass House

Chris Smith and Dave Thurston, Brookhurst

Alex Frixione (former Members of Alfonsin) and Chuck Shakleford (Bread and Circuits) in Portland

The show that changed the complexion of punk in Santa Cruz

Elliot Smith played on an amp on this tour

A great show that never happened. Note the original name of Yaphet Kotto

Jen Thorpe, Submission Hold

You could date this photo to the minute...

Fugazi in Hamburg, Germany, summer 92

Gentry, Iceburn

Straight No Chaser Issue #1

Artwork I did for the AFC "Phoenix" 7" that was never properly released but incorporated into the "Thorny Path" LP on Vermiform

Fuck Rock

El futuro no esta escrito

Before and Beyond Year Zero: Cambodia

2010-01-01T18:53:00.000-08:00

An apsara at Angkor Wat

When I was seven, a family of Cambodian refugees came to live with my family. A special arrangement had been made with a few key businesses that made it possible for refugees to relocate, and my parents felt a responsibility, as people of conscience and opponents of the wars in Vietnam and Cambodia, to assist in any way they could. For about a year the Chau family lived with us and did their best to adapt and adjust to life in Northern Utah.

Since that time, I've been intrigued by Khmer culture, the splendors of Angkor architecture, and the horrors of the Khmer Rouge regime. Just as the Vietnam War left an indelible mark on my parents' generation, I've grown up feeling affected, confused, and moved by Cambodia. It was high time to visit.

Z and I made our way to Siem Reap after a wonderful week in Luang Prabang, Laos, and met up with her parents (both linguists) who were visiting for an academic conference. Below are some images from our time in both Siem Reap and Phnom Phen as well as some thoughts on our time there.

Buddha engulfed by a tree at Ta Prohm

Nature bats last...

Shadow puppetry retelling of an episode from the Ramayana

Dancing apsara at Angkor Wat

Scary lung cancer awareness poster

Vendor with wares outside our bus

Traditional ciclo (pedal rickshaw)

Typical transportation just miles outside Siem Reap

A woman gives birth...

as men ride to war.

Mixed Buddhist-Hindu imagery at Angkor Wat

Massive benevolent heads at Bayon

Intense sales pressure

Kompong Phluk village on the mighty Tonle Sap Lake

Leading up to our time in Cambodia I kept thinking I´d be clever and title a blog post ¨Holiday in Cambodia.¨Right up until we arrived in Phnom Phen I thought that´d be clever. Then we visited The genocide museum at Tuol Sleng and even the slightest poke at humor or punk-rock cleverness seemed offensive.

Tuol Sleng is really the high school that was turned into Pol Pot´s secret prison named ¨S-21¨, the site where tens of thousands of Cambodians were tortured and killed. It´s a haunting, fascinating, but ultimately disturbing monument to a time that must not be forgotten. One wing is a series of bare rooms with a bed and a photograph showing the violence that took place there. Another series of rooms hold meticulously documented--and beautifully shot--photographs of both victims and their torturers. T

More than once I was sickened as I recognized images from old ¨power violence¨ records, but the experience of visiting such a visceral place is important. Remembering and memorializing this time is important. Facing this history--really one group´s political, social, and economic effort to erase history and start again--needs to be done.

Art exhibit mixing archival images and the reflection of enlarged photos as well as the viewer in the same space

Eery hallways between holding cells

Young comrades who carried out the torture at Tuol Sleng

Online resources:
Timeline of the Khmer Rouge, the genocide, and information on the tribunal
Cambodian Genocide Program at Yale
Documenting ¨Year Zero¨ (POV interview)
Kaing Guek Eav, aka ¨Duch¨, on trial (from the Guardian online)

Books worth reading:
First They Killed My Father
Brother Number One
Children of the River

In Rice We Survive: December in Laos and Thailand

2010-01-01T15:50:00.000-08:00

Buddha assembly line, Savannakhet, Laos

In comparison to India, travel in Laos and Thailand was simple and hassle-free. Thailand is well developed and the transportation is reliable while Laos is charmingly mellow.

We crossed from Lao-Bao outside of Hue, Vietnam and rode smoothly back into Laos. Savannaket was like any number of sleepy Central Valley (CA) towns. Dogs wandered purposefully. Still warm air hung well into the night. Not much seemed to be going on.

Downtown Savannakhet, Laos

Laotian dinosaur

Salt farm

Fading light outside Nom Lung Lake, Laos

Women making reed torches

Bag insignia for the grain of strength

The last thing you want to come across while hiking

Laotian critical mass

From Savannakhet we bussed back to Bangkok, stayed the night in the red-light district of Sukhumvit, then arranged another day's worth of bus and boat rides that would get us to the island of Koh Chang. I'm not much of a water person but beaches in Thailand will relax the shoes right off you.

Young Thai cliff divers at Nam Tok Klong Plu waterfall

Z at our wee cottage (Apple Bungalows, Koh Chang)

Thousand-armed sand dollar

Posing down

Sun down

Z enjoying a rambutan

Insanely clear water makes for great snorkeling

Back in Bangkok we ate our fill of amazing curries and sticky rice and even tried a durian before boarding a plane back to Oahu where we decompressed a bit before heading to Southern California.

Awesome street-food, Banglamphu Market...

and in Sukhumvit...Bangkok

Youth procession, Banglamphu Market

Typical Bangkok skyline

More travel notes over at other-climes.

On Water, Over Land: Vietnam

2009-12-22T09:12:00.000-08:00

Night lights in Hoi An, textile capitol of Vietnam

Z and I had no idea we were going to spend a lot of time in and on the water while in Southeast Asia, especially Vietnam. While not normally a water person--actually, I have a healthy distrust of waves and rivers--I quickly adapted and enjoyed our time there. Here are a few images from late November and early December.

Canal travel outside Hue

Slim fishing boats

Cà phê sữa nóng

Can you believe this only cost $10?!!!

Floating village, Halong Bay

Inside Sung Sot ("surprise") Cave, Bon Hon Island

Norweigan and SF friends, Halong Bay

Way less than psyched...

Ancient Cham ruins

Tau hu xao xa o (lemongrass tofu with chilis)--I'd go back for this alone!

Same same but different

2009-11-15T21:07:00.000-08:00

After two months in Asia (India, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Viet Nam) and one more to go I've decided to hold off on any 'Drink Deep' updates until the New Year. The logistics of traveling cheap, fast, and light while trying to write meaningfully about all that I'm seeing is a bit much at the moment and I'd rather wait and do justice to these experiences with a bit more head-space back home.

On a side-note, there's been lots of favorable feedback to the piece I wrote on 90s hardcore punk. When I'm back at a scanner I'll post up the remainder of some images from my archive to round out the ideas I started there. Likewise, the Book of Bird benefit is progressing nicely with nearly 30 signatures gathered and the groundwork for an auction taking shape as I write. What started as a simple fundraiser has really taken on a life of its own and is becoming something quite remarkable.

I Still Love H.E.R.

2009-11-03T02:09:00.000-08:00

"Not untill you've listen to Rakim on a rocky mountain top
have you heard hip hop
extract the urban element which created it
and let a open wide country side illustrate it"
Saul Williams

Public Enemy and the track that still gives me goosebumps

Common Sense, at the height of his powers

A Tribe Called Quest from the Low End Theory, an album I've worn out, twice

NaS: half man, half amazing

สวัสดี (greetings) from Thailand

2009-11-02T02:14:00.000-08:00

After five weeks in India Z and I have made our way into Southeast Asia. We're currently in Luang Prabang, Laos after having spent three weeks in Thailand. Our bellies are full with amazing curry and habit-forming coffee! I only wish I'd had the wherewithal to make this journey earlier.

Locals biking outside Wat Mahathat in Sukhothai

Just some of the giant vegan meal we created at Mai Kaydee's cooking school, Chiang Mai

Mr. Yim, vegetarian streetfood maestro, Bangkok

Z, riding out a storm with some tom kha soup

Mountains of curry, Chiang Mai

Bathing an elephant at Elephant Nature Park outside Chiang Mai

Lighting a floating paper lantern along the river in Chiang Mai

Wall art at Wat Pra Singh, Chiang Mai

Very proud pedal-tuk driver, Chiang Mai

Slender Buddha hands, Sukhothai

In rice we survive! (Near Chiang Khong, Thailand)

Pedal Power: Dharamsala, India

2009-10-12T22:49:00.000-07:00

Truly ingenious knife sharpener

Land of Little Rain

2009-10-04T07:59:00.000-07:00

Stok Kangri, the highest peak in the Ladakh Range, framed by prayer flags

When I was 15, Galen Rowell came to town to give a slideshow on his most recent book, My Tibet, which he co-authored with the Dalai Lama. From that night onward I was transfixed with that distant land's mountains, artwork, and political situation. It's problematic to visit Tibet as travel is heavily curtailed by the Chinese government and places a traveler in the situation of supporting a repressive regime with no regard for Tibet's cultural, historical, and spiritual autonomy. My visit to Ladakh, in the state of Jammu and Kashmir, and Dharamsala, in Himachal Paradesh, however, has given me a beautiful glimpse into Tibetan Buddhism and the experience of refugees living in exile.

Below are a selection of images from the past few weeks. More images and thoughts can be found at my wife and I's travel blog, Other-Climes. Enjoy.

Mani stones found along a trail in the Snow Leopard Conservation Park

Some of the landscape between Kashmir and Ladakh

An ancient Buddhist sculpture near Leh

A monk preparing candles for a puja below a fresco that illustrates the principle of samsara

A gruesome, if anatomically correct, image from the Thiksey Gompa south of Leh

A Maitreya, 'Future Buddha', at Thiksey

Where animism and humor meet

Another beautiful Buddha statue at Thiksey

Dancers at the annual Leh Festival

Wall painting of Rinchen Zangpo, the Buddhist scholar responsible for countless gompas throughout Ladakh

At the confluence of the Zanskar and Indus rivers

A copper smith in the tiny village of Chiling

Adorable baby goat...my new best friend?

Someday, I hope to visit a free Tibet. Many organizations work tirelessly to bring about awareness of China's illegal occupation of Tibet and its deplorable human rights record. Here are just a few:

Tibetan People's Uprising Movement
Students for a Free Tibet
Tibetan Center for Human Rights and Democracy
Human Rights Watch
International Campaign for Tibet

I hear a shadow...

2009-10-04T02:16:00.000-07:00

Writing on a sticky keyboard in a 40 rupee per hour internet cafe in Northern India is just one of the many ways that life has changed for me in the last ten years. In '99 I'd left the Bay Area and returned to the Eastern Sierra where I lived out of my car, climbed as much as my tendons would take, and began the path toward becoming a teacher. I largely left behind the hardcore punk community that I'd known for the previous ten years and with it, the ins and outs of a scene that is at once intensely earnest and woefully unstable. It was a necessary move and one that, in the end, marked a major turning point in my life.

Last month, both Rorschach and C.R. played reunion shows in New York, and while I'm thousands of miles removed from that time in my life, I could not help but reflect on the impact both of those bands made on me.

When Protestant came out it made Rorscach the baddest band in the land, excluding no one. It was the Raw Power or Damaged for my generation. The vocals were at the very edge of unintelligible, moving into the realm of noise, but unlike legions of others that would ape that style their lyrics had substance and intelligence. Rorschach's anger--and I think pain--seemed genuine and that came through in their sound. As Sam McPheeter's has written, they took the banal genre of New Jersey grind and created something beautiful. When they played with Honeywell and Not For the Lack of Trying it marked one of the best nights of punk in Southern California.

For a whole year I woke up each morning and put on side two, as a way to deal with a decaying relationship and the uncertainty of my academic studies. When it came time to write my senior thesis I chose to delve deeply into the reproduction of images of violence in a piece that became "A Traffic in Suffering." I was able to speak at length with Charles Maggio about the genesis of the Remain Sedate, "Lightning Strikes Twice," and the use of Jan Saudek's troubling images. It was with his help and patience that the project was able to take shape and I was able to graduate with honors in Anthropology from UCSC.

C.R. was a band I came to love and follow entirely through an interview in Rumpshaker. That interview was one of the best pieces of writing I'd come across in years and though I never got to see them live I've maintained a pen-pal correspondence with Bricks Avalon for over a decade now. His energy, lust for life, and commitment to easing the suffering of others is a true inspiration.

I hope that the energy that energy that was invested in these bands can be channeled in directions beyond the basements and bedrooms that make up the world of hardcore punk and into real change in people's lives.

"If I had the power..."

Windhorses of Leh, Ladakh

2009-09-27T06:37:00.001-07:00

A View from Dal Lake

2009-09-22T08:49:00.000-07:00

My wife and I hadn't intended on traveling to Kashmir on this trip but some alarming news headlines made it seem like a safer alternative than Ladakh proving that irony is alive and well in 2009.

Though Kashmiri salesmen are some of the pushiest I've ever encountered and the 4 a.m. Ramadan prayers that are broadcast via loudspeaker were a bit much, Dal Lake in Srinagar is one of the most peaceful places I can imagine.

Just as the sun goes down the daily call to prayer began, rising and falling in a gentle rhythm all over the lake

Some of the people on Dal Lake paddle 'shikaras'--water taxis--while others sell saffron and woven goods

In the late of the day men fish amid the lotus flowers

These houseboats are in various states of disrepair but are charming nonetheless

This boy was one of many wonderful, funny, and smart people we met during our time in Srinagar

The houseboats of Srinagar feature prominently in Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories which is highly recommended. Unfortunately, Dal Lake is horribly polluted and efforts to install modern sewage lines to the houseboats and remove trash have been slow in coming. To read more about the clean-up efforts, go here. To read more about some full value, drop the clutch climbing that the late Johnny Copp and Micah Dash did in Kashmir, read "Line of Control" (pdf download.)

Bon Voyage at Bisaap Baobab

2009-08-28T15:37:00.001-07:00

'Drink Deep' is about to enter a state of dormancy. For the next year I'll be traveling in India, SouthEast Asia, and Argentina. I'll post up as I can but much of the trip can be followed at 'Other Climes.'

My Favorite Things

2009-08-28T13:52:00.000-07:00

A day in the open, a night on the ground

Mama Baum and JB

East Side light

Veggie grub after a long day out

Time with my grandparents, Liz and Jim Fuller.

Old friends...

...and new friends

LA Burrito Project: Mama Said Share

2009-08-28T13:15:00.001-07:00

For the past four years my very dear friend Todd (above) has been hosting the Los Angeles Burrito Project at his home. The mission is simple: cook, ride, and share. Each week, literal mountain of bean, rice, and salsa burritos are constructed and distributed to the hungry and homeless of Los Angeles. No one gets paid, no one gets famous, but if you're hungry and it's Wednesday night, there'll be a little bit of warmth pedaling up in the night.

Automatic for the people.

For me, this past Wednesday was a chance to put faces to the names of so many of the characters in Todd's adopted community. We don't see one another but a few times a year and it's remarkable to have distance vanish when you're with someone you love.

Four burner love.

Burrito Project is a small endeavor and like so many decentralized, volunteer-run efforts it can feel chaotic. At the same time, having a space that brings caring people together to address a need at a very human level. I met more new kind and interesting people there than I had in a very long time. Unlike hardcorepunk, this is a community powerfully based on what is embraced, not what is rejected. The ritual of Burrito Project has come to touch many lives and I wish all the cooks and riders the very best of luck in the future.

Raul at the controls.

Bike parking for all.

Portrait of the artist as a young man.

Mango hedgehog.

Todd's 'Live After Death' fixie.

The piece from the back cover of Shadow's 'Midnight in a Perfect World' EP, Pico Blvd., LA.

Putting the 90s to rest

2009-08-27T13:31:00.001-07:00

(90s hardcore punk trajectory--diagram from Straight No Chaser #1)

I really hate the nostalgia industry that has engulfed hardcore punk over the last few years. American Hardcore, Stephen Blush's book and film, seemed rushed, homophobic, and fixated on violence while the flood of 90s hardcore reunions left me feeling equally empty about a period of time that meant a great deal to me. I haven't read Burning Fight or Radio Silence yet but I did contribute to a 90s DIY document that may or may not come out on AK Press. Part of me thinks that any overview of something as diffuse and undefined as a scene built by and for kids can never be fully captured. On the other hand I think it's crucial to have a hand in writing culture from the inside whenever possible. In any case, these are some thoughts I've been formulating on that time. (Questions by Mike McKee from Philadelphia.)

90s HC QUESTIONAIRE

--Please state your full name, age, occupation, and where you grew up / where you live now. --How would you describe your involvement in punk/hc throughout ’89-97? --Do you have a photo of yourself from this time period that you’d be willing to share and possibly have reprinted along with some of your responses?

Marty Roberts, age 34. I am an English Language Development (ELD) teacher, literacy coach, and school reform advocate. I grew up in Claremont, California, went to college in Santa Cruz and now live in San Francisco.

(Self-portrait, 1989)

How, when and where did you begin going to shows?

I’m no Jon Landau and it’s not 4 a.m. and raining, but I vividly remember being 27, thinking what it was like to be 17, and feeling old. At this moment I’m not hearing the future, but like Landau, “I never give up the search for sounds that can answer every impulse, consume all emotion, cleanse and purify—all things that we have no right to expect from even the greatest works of art but which we can occasionally derive from them.” Hardcore is and has been a visceral part of a bigger pursuit of authentic, passionate autonomous communities of passion and compassion.

I first really became aware of punk rock—or at least the outward signs of the punk underground—in 1985 at the Pipeline skatepark in Upland, CA. I was on a family vacation from Kansas where we were living at the time and I started noticing the Dead Kennedies and Black Flag logos that kids had drawn on their boards, jeans, and helmets. I remember distinctly connecting the graphic design of those logos with skate art of the time, the ollie holes in well-worn Vans, and the meditative hum of urethane. It wasn’t until ‘87/’88 when I moved to Claremont that I started seeing those subtle markers of the underground again, only by that time it was the Pillsbury Hard Core stickers that were stuck to the ceilings of El Roble Junior High and crude Jolt Hardcore (Paul “Frosty” Hertz from Chain of Strength’s early band) t-shirts a few outcasts wore.

(Half Man at Epicenter, SF, summer 94)

Claremont is about 40 miles east of Los Angeles, but it’s definitely not LA. It’s not Orange County and it’s not the high desert. It’s a college town suburb with one foot in the 60s counter-culture past and one in soulless contemporary suburban sprawl. Musically there have been times when a lot went on there. David Lindley and Ben Harper have called it home and the older brothers of my best friends at the time were in Man Is the Bastard and Chain of Strength respectively. Independent music, film, and art were everywhere and my friends and I devoured as much outsider sound as we could get our hands on.

I saw a number of what would pass as punk bands around in 1989 and 90 but I really caught my stride by 1993 and started doing a zine called Straight No Chaser that was printed entirely on recycled show flyers. After three issues I called it quits, moved to Santa Cruz for college, published a book of flyer art from Southern California called Heavy on the Freak Sauce, and lived and breathed hardcore for the next several years.

(Honeywell 7" insert)

Between 1991 and 1999 I saw hundreds of great bands in many different spaces—Spanky’s Café in Riverside, The Toe Jam in Long Beach, Cell 63 out in badlands north of LA, basements and living rooms all over Santa Cruz (Third Street, Bixby House, California Street House), next to a stove in a guy’s kitchen in Rancho Cucamonga, a rapid transit stop at 24th and Mission in San Francisco.

(Drew and Chris of CAMPAIgN at Pitzer College, 1992)

How would you describe the landscape of the hardcore/punk scene as you saw it when you first started going to shows?

The anthropologist Clifford Geertz famously observed that culture was “the stories that they tell themselves about themselves”, and I think that’s a handy frame to think about the landscape of hardcore punk at the beginning of the 90s. The decentralized but interconnected scenes of DC, New York, LA, Boston, and the Midwest had been in development and reconstruction for ten years by the time my friends and I “discovered” hardcore. So much of what made punk punk had to do the ritual of the pit and not what was being said on or off the mic. For a kid-centered forum for countering alienation, rejecting convention, and challenging the norms of the above-ground, hardcore was feeling predictable and mundane. After ten years of foundation building there was enough to reject within punk as there was to embrace. The tough guy stance epitomized by Sick of It All and Agnostic Front, the fun-but-shallow lyrics of Gorilla Biscuits, and the once vital potential of a poison-free lifestyle lapsed into a caricature of pointed fingers, sportswear, and obligatory calls for unity as women and people of color were conspicuously absent were all “stories” that needed revision. Fugazi taking on stage-divers was, in my mind, as significant to the reshaping of narrative in the early 90s underground as Kent McKlard calling out Youth Brigade and Bad Religion in the Ebullition record inserts.

(Straight No Chaser #1)

What is the first thing that comes to mind when someone mentions “90s DIY hardcore?” ..or “90s HC” …or “94 core”?

Book-ended by underground expressions of anger and frustration, depression and self-analysis, the 1990s brought me into contact with remarkable people and showed me the power and potential of communities of resistance. At its best, hardcore helps young people find their own unique voice, not just emulate others. It was and is about rejecting excess, claiming space, discovering what you can make on your own. These are the characteristics that make hardcore more than music. I’m reminded of a poem by Michael Ryan that goes, “When the immutable accidents of birth/hometown, parentage, and the rest/no longer anchor this fiction of self and its incessant I me mine/then words won’t be like nerves in a stump crackling with messages that end up nowhere/and I’ll put on the wind like a gown of light linen/and go be a king in a field of weeds.” In many ways, hardcore has helped me do just that.

(Forever comp insert)

Do you feel like DIY hardcore in America throughout the early to mid 90s was different than the forms the culture had taken in the past or has taken since? -If so, how do you perceive or characterize it as uniquely different from other pockets or eras of punk/underground music?

Every generation has its touchstones to loathe. The 70s had Vietnam and Nixon. The 80s had Reagan and Thatcher. Kids in the 90s had Newt Gingrich’s “Contract With America”, Gulf War 1, a failed drug policy, and attacks on abortion clinics to make sense of. While the Zapatista uprising in Chiapas was inspiring, the dissolution of affirmative action and services for immigrants gave lie to the liberalism of California electoral politics and fueled the fire of those in the far-flung outposts of the subculture. At its best, hardcore spoke to issues, both political and personal, and proved itself more than just amplified adolescent ire.

(Old silk screen project)

Did it feel, at the time, as though you were witnessing and/or participating in the making of something new?

Truth be told, hardcore is only partially about tinnitus, sweat, and polemics against parent culture. It was—and still is—just as much about making zines, teaching friends to screen-print, learning to cook vegan and not just eat out at 7-11, and writing letters to folks in the far-flung outposts of the subculture. I did lots and lots of letter writing during that period. For ten years or so I really took seriously the art and craft of keeping up a correspondence with friends, many of whom I’ve never met but in some cases still talk to today. The advent of email around Y2K almost entirely cut out that process. I wasn’t steaming off stamps anymore, carefully folding flyers to share, and pouring myself whole-heartedly into the written word. Those letters extended some semblance of connectedness—community even—to me and dozens of others. What I didn’t have immediately available I created with pen pals and that, in part anyways, alleviated the sense of isolation and up-rooted or un-rooted-ness that was so prevalent at that time.

(Spitboy and Downcast 7"s)

Another key to that time was the realization that folks my age and slightly older had credible things to say about the world. Pouring over the writing in the Spitboy 12”, the Education comp, Rorschach’s Protestant—really influential records for that time—was what really set apart my experience of punk from what came before it. I’d always taken the time to memorize lyrics to sing at shows, but those records were really something to grapple with. I learned the word ‘egalitarian’ because of True Self Revealed and trotted it out in my junior English class (no kidding!) I can’t really say that of any record from before or many since.

(Coleman 7" insert)

Shows, bands, zines—at their best—were a combination of catharsis and self-exploration, and I’d say still are. I was raised in a Quaker family and even though I’ve considered myself an atheist for years there was something very familiar I found in some corners of the scene at that time. DIY echoed my childhood experiences of intentional community, potlucks, and handmade clothing. It was all there. Within Quaker meeting there’s this notion that the space that you share with other Friends is safe enough to speak one’s truth when the feeling is right. Rites of Spring put a name and voice those “transparent moments” but I got the sense that it was always there beneath the surface, waiting for the right synergy of heat and noise, risk and honesty. Whatever intangible thing it was that made it feel comfortable for people to take on their issues—privilege, body image, homophobia and sexism, personal trauma—in public was truly antithetical to all previous notions of what could and couldn’t be talked about in punk. Folks weren’t just trying to re-write “Rise Above” or live out the “hope I die before I get old” anthems of a previous generation’s rebel-rock spokesmen. The No Answers interview with Mike Judge that asked the last time Mike had cried seemed bold initially, but nothing in comparison to what people—especially women—were sharing about themselves in print and on the mic. I’ve always liked Jackie Kerzner’s (Coleman) comment that (hardcore punk) was “trying to exercise—or is it exorcise—the heavy clods which weigh us down.” People being swept up in the motion and emotion of shows and protests, sharing food and making zines with stolen copy keys at one in the morning—these were anti-slacker, anti-Generation X gestures that, yes, were pretty self-important and even comical to look back on, but they gave shape and purpose to the anger and anxiety that we were feeling at the time.

(Straight No Chaser #1)

The double-edged sword of that exploration was that as authentic as it could be it was almost immediately ritualized, codified, and commodified; turned into just another spectacle to be consumed. ‘Emo’ and ‘indie’ have become nothing more than marketing terms—in both the under- and above-ground—becoming synonymous with an aesthetic and not a practice. I’m really trying hard not to indulge in the over-used adjectives of the time, “crazy”, “brutal”, “amazing”, “political”, because the repetition of them really rendered them meaningless over time. In any case, an unfortunate aspect of such an insular community—maybe 20 core individuals within the 100 that might congregate regularly—is that the pressure to adhere to a set of heart-on-sleeve beliefs became as doctrinaire and as domineering as those rules that many of us were trying to cast off. Again, to reference Coleman, that line, “described not defined by the rules I obey” was something that we could have all taken to heart. This ethical rigidity had the effect of either driving some really good people away or forcing folks to say and do things that weren’t ultimately healthy or progressive. Pleasure became suspect; feelings were hurt. Friends stopped having the courage to disagree, finger-pointing returned, and hollowness set in. I don’t think that those are or were the values to found a community on let alone a start a revolution with.

What is your first, or your most distinct memory, of any/each of the following venues / show spaces?

(Pitzer College flyer, 1992)

Best beginning-to-end show: Campaign (debut), Heroin, Spitboy, and Econochrist at Pitzer College, Claremont, 1992.

Best guest appearance: Chris Dodge singing “Blood Gutter” with Man Is the Bastard the night they played with Ruins (Japan) at Gilman, 1994.

Most idiosyncratic line-up: Tie: Floodgate with Chorus of Disapproval at a basement show in Simi Valley, summer 93, or Jone of Arc with MITB and UOA at the Jabberjaw, summer 94.

Best proof of Kent McClard’s sense of humor: The first-person Hardline commentary/confessional in Dave Mandel’s Indecision fanzine.

Oddest cover songs: Honeywell doing Outspoken’s “Survival” followed by the Beastie Boys’ “No Sleep Till Brooklyn”, Scripps College, Claremont, 1992.

Snarkiest recording: Fear of Smell compilation tie: Sam and Joe’s “Save the Fucking Children” routine v. Rich Oliver’s “Post-Everything”.

Best Sam McPheeters commentary: Dead tie—“No matter how many reggae songs you write about human rights, your audience will still ‘rock out’ and drink wine coolers” from Forever 7” compilation, or debating Sean Vegan Reich about masturbation in Dear Jesus.

Worst bathroom: Gilman.

Feel free to substitute any of the above venues for those more applicable to your geography in this time period.

I began speaking at shows at the first Torches to Rome show at the Third Street House in Santa Cruz, and continued speaking at shows for the next couple of years. I’ve got to give credit to Mike Kirsch for encouraging others to take up the mic, even interrupt his bands, to re-imagine the space of a punk show.

(Submission Hold house and friends, Vancouver, 1998)

When I helped drive on the Seein’ Red/Alfonsin/Bread and Circuits tour I’d speak on alternating nights with Monica Novarro (Mi Luna zine) and Rachel McLean (SF DOPE Project, Rachel zine) who were also traveling with the bands that summer. The hardest night was the first show of the tour in Seattle. I’d heard the name of a minor celebrity in the Seattle/SF graffiti/punk/skate scene, someone I knew mainly because he’d raped a very close friend and former lover of mine. I felt like my heart was jumping through my throat but still I found my way to the mic. This was about two years after the Chris and Dana letters in HeartAttack and one year after the controversy surrounding Jux and Punks With Presses in the East Bay. There would have been support for a witch-hunt but that wasn’t the approach I was looking for. In those moments I was processing the juxtaposition of what I felt with what would help my friend heal, and while some folks may have thought that I took the safe route by not outing the rapist, I needed to use that time to think of her and not myself.

(Submission Hold, Bread and Circuits, Rocket Science at 17th and Capp, spring 1998)

The other show that stands out in my mind was a night of art, food, and music at a live-work space at 17th and Capp in the San Francisco’s Mission District. Between each band artwork was shown and shared along with food. I gave a slideshow called “A Traffic in Suffering” that was based on work I’d done on photographic images of violence and pain. While it went on too long and at times probably felt a bit like a college lecture, I’m pretty sure it was one of the first times since Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records that someone had challenged the decontextualized spectacle of pain and suffering. Carrie Crawford (Cat Planet, Dog Star zine) had created a multi-media installation about her complicated relationship with family, and Rachel McLean deconstructed mass-media representations of anorexia from fashion magazines. It was a unique, unprecedented night that sadly was also unrepeated. One of the few tangible outcomes of that night was that Todd Regelado took inspiration from the grass-roots food distribution network that operated out of 17th and Capp to co-found the Los Angeles Burrito Project. Over a decade later you’d never suspect that that space existed, but now thousands of burritos are made monthly and handed out, free of charge, to homeless families on the streets of Los Angeles.

(Alex and Butch from Former Members of Alfonsin in Seattle, 1998)

In retrospect, these are the sorts of moments that get eulogized as emblematic of the decade as if it couldn’t happen again or couldn’t happen now. What I find disappointing is the lack of imagination that hardcore kids over 30 show when they lionize the past but don’t reinvent their present. I simply reject the notion that something is gone that can never be recaptured. It’s not the case that something was stolen from us. We gave away just as much.

(Chuck reading at the first Bread and Circuits show, Berkeley, 1998)

What was the first fest you attended? -how did you travel there? -where and with whom did you stay?

The only fest I went to was the second Goleta Fest at the tail end of my travels with Bread and Circuits and others. No offense, but I hate huge shows. After driving down the coast from Vancouver to Seattle, through Roseberg to Berkeley, then onto Goleta I was in no mood to hear 35 bands doing their best Noothgrush interpretation. I slept on a couch in the main hall and woke up for Slave One, played some soccer with some nice kids from back east, ate too much bread and hummus, and slid into a grimy sleeping bag at Lisa Ogelsby’s apartment. I’d been going to shows for almost ten years at that point and the excitement of a show was really starting to wear off.

(Born Against insert in the Forever comp)

I did sit in on the gender discussion that some folks organized, but it really struck me as a nervous approximation of some discussion that’d taken place in Columbus earlier that summer. I wasn’t at that earlier and I don’t mean anyone any disrespect but there was such a conscious effort to anchor the discussion in “frameworks” and “reference points” that it didn’t feel as much like a conversation as it did a lo-fi liberal arts college lecture. It’s a lot to put on people to always be “on”, to always be “right” and I sensed that in the room. Some people were really forthcoming and others just listened, as it should be. It was just too large a group in too loud a space with too little time, and ultimately tough conversations need time. Time to digest, time to reflect, time to question, which really drives home the need to create community on something other than the limited interaction of a show. Working now with teens in a school where I have 180 days a year to develop relationships and foster exchange and debate paints my earlier punk experiences in stark relief. Looking back I really have to question how much community there really was. Clearly it meant the world to a lot of us at the time but I’m not sure that I grew any closer to anyone just because of the space we shared. If anything, touring made me realize how little I really had in common with so many people in the greater scene.

(Cyclops 7")

Do you feel like there was a particular style or “look” that defined this pocket of culture?

If I could sum up a look of a decade it’d be something like this: sunken cheeks, bad posture, fallen arches and a backpack. It’s up for interpretation what all that meant. Did that sweater-vest signify some kind of emotional sincerity or was there always a cool breeze blowing where Frail came from? Were those black Chuck Taylors a quiet protest against American cultural hegemony or a way of proving that it’s hip to be square? Were the choker bead necklaces that were so prevalent a tribute to the marketing prowess of the 1993 Shelter/108 tour? Or were they a way of saying that the constricting beads were like the rules—straight edge, veganism—we’d willfully adopted to constrain, yes, but also define, ourselves? I wonder how large an effect national zines like HeartAttack had in both reflecting and directing the fashion sense of the times. What’s interesting to me is how quickly DIY went from referring to a form of production to an aesthetic.

(Rorschach, from the re-issue of Protestant)

Do you attribute any portion of your politicization to your experiences in hardcore?

A friend of mine used to joke that “outspoken is just a band”. Hardcore definitely introduced me to some extraordinary people and challenged me socially, but it’d be self-indulgent and more than a little bit revisionist to say that everything I did in hardcore was political. Hardcore is an add-on, an accessory. It’s the (by)product of those with enough time, money, and headspace to attend to things beyond day-in, day-out survival. I think my politicization was facilitated by hardcore but not responsible for it.

I was lucky enough to come of age in two very different communities simultaneously. The first is rock climbing, which literally took me into a wilderness away from home and allowed me to explore the limits of my fear and fitness. Its emphasis on mutual trust and doing the most (the hardest route, longest face, highest peak) with the least (gear, impact, support) shaped a significant part of my worldview. Hardcore, on the other hand is almost entirely an indoor phenomenon, put me in a position of creating a new home—an adopted family—with like-minded individuals who were challenging the tenets of American mass culture. At 34 I’m now more interested in creating community more around the values I embrace than those I reject. It’s risky to write a writes a biography that radicalizes the liberal and elevates the mundane gesture to era-defining manifesto, but that’s what all too often happens in this scene. I will say that much of what passed as political discourse in 90s hardcore was far from making punk a viable threat to established orthodoxies and institutions. How is the political configured? How much was really being said at that time and how much was deemed radical by context alone? I still don’t hear a threat in the A-list of the 90s—Antioch Arrow, Amber Inn, (ordination of) Aaron. This isn’t to say that the music and efforts of individuals at that time weren’t important—they were. However, there’s a big difference between what matters and what makes change.

(Jose/Bread and Circuits in SF, 1998)

In terms of my own political development, Columbine—April 20, 1999—marks a clear turning point from my involvement within hardcore to the work I’ve taken up, through teaching, outside of the underground. While I was shocked by the events of that day I can’t say I was surprised. Those boy’s actions were an extreme expression of an alienation and self-loathing that any number of friends and I experienced throughout the decade. It was by identifying with their angst that I felt I needed to counter the forces that led them to harm others and in the end, take their own lives.

(Born Against insert to the Forever comp.)

I took from hardcore the importance of developing one’s passions free of the market, on one hand, and the need for an attentive eye toward sustainability, on the other. Being engaged in a community where young people defined their own standards of success was liberating and instructive at the same time. Nothing motivates like feeling authentic ownership in any process, and I’ve taken that into the classroom. What I think holds back punk-based activism is our uncomfortable relationship with leadership and autonomy. So much energy is spent ridiculing the hierarchies that we resent—which is important in its own right—that we often haven’t developed the confidence to name our issues and take concrete steps to impact them. I think the scene still looks to bands to shape political discourse and the show is still the primary venue for that exchange. What I’ve come to realize is that time is the most elusive resource for agents of change. Likewise, DIY has reinforced a narrative that places the individual, not the collective, at the center of the universe, which ironically is the same worldview espoused by would-be Reaganites. The equity-centered reform efforts that I’m currently part of are deeply informed by hardcore but have felt equal influence from principles of intentional listening in co-constructed spaces with allies from divergent backgrounds and perspectives. Being fully present in the moment, meeting people where they are at, assuming positive intent, and withholding judgment are now part of my practice as a reform leader in my field, but those were not necessarily what I learned from within our scene. It took leaving hardcore to develop this skill set. Ultimately, it was a sacrifice worth making.

(Rorschach from Protestant re-issue)

How and when did you learn about riot grrl?

I’m far from qualified to speak about riot grrl but I will say this: Riot grrl was a necessary reaction to the underlying inequities in values, rituals, and language of hardcore punk and the mainstream culture that gave birth to it. Creating women-specific spaces was/is critical to unpacking and interrogating the ways in which half the population is systematically devalued in ways both explicit and implicit. What I know was problematic about riot grrl at the time was that while reclaiming girl-hood was important, so too was (or would have been) finding ways to recreate and re-envision what it meant to be a woman. For that reason, I saw more women find themselves outside riot grrl than inside it.

(Still Life and Dawn Williams interview in Straight No Chaser/Fulcrum #2)

People (thoughts, impressions; no gossip)

Chris Jensen
Chris went to Pomona College at the same time I was in high school was the logical bridge between the two “eras”. He’d grown up with guys in Krakdown, did abortion clinic defense during the Operation Rescue attacks in the summer of 92, and had the drive to book shows on campus, and record with Campaign all while getting his degree. I can’t communicate how influential he was at that time. He didn’t stage-dive but he also never lectured. He was outspoken at shows when others were silent, and yet was always very approachable. And the Hard Times radio show on KSPC was deliberately trying to challenge the notion that hardcore was just fast music. That was the first place we heard a lot of bands that didn’t fit the molds of the old punk canon. Chris was in that first wave of hardcore people who took up teaching as a way to make real a commitment to one’s beliefs—to literally campaign for what one valued—and his articles in HeartAttack had a profound influence on those who would follow in his wake.

(Cheap Guy Music flyer, Riverside, 1991)

Eric Wood/MITB
“Sheky”, as Eric was known around Claremont, is a character of unparalleled intensity. Anyone who’s ever seen his focus while pouring a latte or heard him hold court on the merits of early Scorpions, Eno’s early ambient records, or the latest throat-punishing vocalist from Japan knows this. What gets lost in the buzz around his micro-celebrity is his genuine, caring, at times insecure side. I never felt like I fully knew the man but I’m glad that I got to see more dimensions to him than just that the guy who calling for secular jihad against Thomas Lenz.

Henry Barnes with MITB at Scripps College, spring 93. From Straight No Chaser #1.

Henry Barnes/AFC
When I first met Henry he was also working baking shifts at Some Crust Bakery along with Eric Wood and later Drew Gilbert (Floodgate/Fisticuffs Bluff). He was one of the many gifted Barnes children who grew up in Claremont. His father, Richard “Dickie” Barnes, was an esteemed professor and poet in town, and his younger brother Rufie were in school together. Rufie shape-shifted himself through many sub-cultural identities in the 90s and during his straight edge phase he was caught on film, shouting along to Chain of Strength in The Unheard Music. Henry, though, always followed his own muse and crafted the instruments to make real the songs he heard in his head. My final year of college I approached him with the idea of doing a recording based on the myth of the phoenix. We discussed it extensively and I created artwork for a 7” that never came out in that form but was included on the Thorny Path 12”. What I love about Henry is his individuality, earnest demeanor, limitless creativity, and willingness to struggle through the lean times in order to get closer to his own personal ideal for living.

(Barnes' DIY guitar pedal schematic from Straight No Chaser/Fulcrum #2)

Excessive ephemera:

(Scripps College flyer, 1992)

(Che Cafe flyer, 1991)

(A flyer I made for a 17th and Capp show)

(Straight No Chaser #1)

(Pitzer College flyer, 1992)

(Suicide prevention flyer I made when I began teaching full time)

(Top and bottom--rape prevention flyer I made in high school, 1993)

Unique, Unprecedented, Unrepeatable

2009-08-27T13:25:00.000-07:00

Room 122.

One year ago, my school was hailed as one of America's 100 best. This past week, it was the site of a frightening attack by a former student. I'm taking a year's leave and wasn't there but I know that as the community makes sense of what happened, teachers, students, and families will continue to place kids' emotional well-being and needs at the center of attention.

Xavier, Ali, Julio, Matey, Haruka, Hatibe, Karl.

Teaching high school language development classes and advising a cohort of 25 students is without a doubt the hardest, most intellectually demanding, physically exhausting work I've ever done. Fifty hour weeks aren't unheard of and for all of my experience in education and leadership, the work does truly unfold one day at a time.

My fortress of solitude in a classroom that never sleeps.

Maria and Gabi.

Fourth period Transitional ELD.

I was a decent student who hated school but in the wake of Columbine, I found a community that supported kids with as they were, not how teachers imagined them to be. It wasn't easy for me to make the transition into education and I stumbled more often than I excelled, but with an incredible network of mentors and support, I've come find my calling.

Golden Apple Award.

The challenges of education reform in America are enormous. Working to undo the legacies of institutional racism and structures that perpetuate social inequality for students of color is daunting. These past five years I've found a home in Hillsdale's smaller learning communities and look forward to returning in a year to continue the work we've begun.

Learning to learn. Periods 2 and 3, Intermediate ELD, in front of 'Speak Memory', Fall 2008.

'Speak Memory' memorial project, fall 2008.

Afghans for Tomorrow students, Afghanistan.

Related projects:

Letters to Obama Project

Hillsdale Effect (micro-lending in Guatemala)

New York Times article on education and immigration and my students' responses.

Jakarta and Cusco House Kite Festival

After this mountain, more mountains...

Countdown to Putsch

2009-08-21T12:44:00.000-07:00

Mt. Merriam: 8/1/09

2009-08-05T16:56:00.000-07:00

The best laid plans of mice and men...

Over the past weekend I headed to the Eastern Sierra for what may be my last climbing trip in the US for the next year. Initially I had my eye on finishing off an enchainment of nine peaks in the Minarets but had to switch to Plan B when my partner and I discovered a storm system was engulfing the entirety of the Sierra.

Crossing endless talus

We set our sites on the North Buttress of Mt. Merriam that is accessed from the Pine Creek drainage.

Royce Lake

After a respectable alpine start we hiked the ten miles into the peak but were stymied by unpredictable weather and a lack of good route beta.

In the distance, the South Face of Bear Creek Spire

In the end we turned around and hiked the ten miles back out as my knees imploded.

Crossing the bog between Royce Lake and Pine Creek Pass

After a hefty dinner in Bishop we hatched Plan C--a morning of cragging at Whitney Portal.

Lessons learned: take a topo, move even faster, check the weather before dropping in on a cheap ticket out of town.

Shots Ring Malice

2009-07-25T12:48:00.000-07:00

all the innocents/with their eyes in the sun/two thoughts when one--the repetition/seems left alone/and another wall built over the line/the discontent--aged like wine/fucked with time, with the suffering/a deaf ear falls on the fourth estate/ushering in a new guilded age/dropping down the guise and ease/tips drenched in "democracy"/never mind/pay no mind/the engineers of misery/constructed these pillars of their elite/with double standards for the living/and double standares for the numbers of the dead/inject the medicine to your head/and with reason--the festering of desperation/to a mind once immune to the victimized/so recall the sick symmetry: Santiago, Chile, 9/11/73/the pictures held of the disappeared/the mothers holding back their tears/and from young Victor Jarar's eyes/to Palestine, 2005: betrayed/this is what you empower/this is what you allow

We live like lost children

2009-07-24T13:34:00.000-07:00

Capitalism is a dead end, anarchism has gone bust. "Situationism" never existed, and romanticism is a waste of time. May no law govern our bodies, and may no singular idea impose stillness. Us two, we are a movement that will not be held down by any self-imposed dogmatic posturing. We are fluid and volatile--no room for the taut and fame. We'll reject the notion of modeling our patterns on archaic moral codes not in line with our lives. The dreams that we have--the songs we sing--they are flashes of an unresolved past. They shed light on moments previously lived in confusion and doubt. Now is the time to stand back and ask, "Are we living the lives that we want?"

When I talk to people from the 60s about music as well as people who really love music there's a recurring theme: "We didn't know what the music was or meant or even where it came from...all we knew was we couldn't not listen." Whether it was Coltrane, Hendrix, or Dylan these were words and sounds both puzzling and mezmerizing.

For much of the last year the band that done that for me is Ampere. A year ago they played Gilman with Baader Brains and ever since I've been drawn into their small world of whirlwind, heat, and blur.

Da. Inner. Sound. Y'all. (D.A.I.S.Y. Live: 7/23/09)

2009-07-23T14:54:00.000-07:00

The first time I heard De la Soul...

...I was spending my time hiding from the unholy heat of August in the Inland Empire, learning to airbrush. KROQ was in a transitional state, moving from the warbly anthems of pale anglophiles and wannabe goths toward the flash-in-the-pan sounds that would respectively become acid house and grunge. The summer's heavy rotation included Prince's "Bat Dance", The Pixies' "Monkey gone to Heaven", P.E.'s "Don't Believe the Hype", and De La's "Me, myself, and I." Three out of four classics isn't half bad! From the opening riff of the Funkadelic sample, I was hooked on the Strong Island poets' contribution to the Native Tongues sound. Arsenio dissed them but the crowd kept clapping.

Incredible as it may seem, it has been 20 years since the mighty Three Feet High and Rising was released, and few records can match the humor and sonic complexity packed between the grooves of this Tommy Boy classic.

Tonight, De la will perform the entire album with a live band. While I'm usually let down by live hip-hop, let alone reunions and retrospectives, Pos, Mase, and Trugoy are sure to put the fun back in the funk.

John Bachar (RIP)

2009-07-13T17:14:00.000-07:00

A week ago I got the news that John Bachar had died in a fall while soloing at the Dike Wall in Mammoth. When I mentioned it to my wife she immediately said, "Of Bachar/Yerian?" It was both funny and telling of how obsessed I've been over the years by John's routes.

In the high lonesome, no climber seemed as cool and collected, smooth and efficient than Bachar. On the ground he could be confrontational and gruff, even caustic, but with time and fatherhood, he seemed to have mellowed.

My first personal memory of John was meeting him in the Real Hidden Valley, carrying an enormous boombox, blasting NWA's "Straight Outta Compton" while wearing lycra tights and a ponytail. Few if any could have pulled off such a statement.

Through SuperTopo, we connected over 70s funk and a mutual love of Coltrane. It was a pleasure to be encouraged on my own climbing projects in the Sierra and get assistance on the Yosemite Climberbenefit that I organized to help out his early mentor Jim Bridwell.

John's impact on American free-climbing is incalculable. Routes like "Bachar/Yerian" and "A Love Supreme" remain test-pieces of the highest caliber.

For a telling memorial in the fine oral tradition of late night campfires, go here.

Elders of the Wide

2009-07-02T10:23:00.000-07:00

Scuffy B, Gary, Jaybro at the Fish Compound (Ed Hartouni photo)

For as significant climbing is to me, I've struggled to find a true community of climbers with whom I could really connect with. It's been a great pleasure getting to know this crew of quirky off-width aficionados. With close to 150 years of collective experience--in and out of the Wide--they're a wealth of knowledge with more than a passing interest in Hendrix, rugby shirts, and swami belts. Climbing with them I always know I can at once thrash myself and laugh till my spleen hurts. When I grow up, I want to be like these guys.

Scuffy deep in 'Throbbing Gristle' (Russ Walling photo)

Ed Hartouni

The late Brutus of Wyde, RIP (Chief photo)

"They seek those moments when time stands still. The catalysts are as varied as the individuals who pursue this path: a meteor shower; a night sky so star-filled that it snatches your breath; another rise of the sun over distant mountains vast and untouchable; dodging a rock careening crazily down a gully; a desperate icy struggle through whiteout and ground blizzard down to the safety of camp after an unsuccessful summit attempt; standing atop a mountain with a friend, the whole world at your feet, a blinding sun blazing out of a flawless sky, taking the time to watch that sun dip below the horizon even though camp is still many miles and many thousands of feet distant stumbling over boulders and through brush in the darkness; watching the starlight and the storm wrest for possession of the night sky, seated on a narrow ledge beside your rope-mate with only the clothes on your back for shelter, shivering the night away, knowing that, sometime in a distant place you cannot now touch, the world will once again grow bright, the sun will rise, and you will look out on the infant day with new eyes."--Bruce Bindner

Images from Bruce's memorial at the Stonehouse ashram below South Lone Pine Peak can be found here

Cat Power

2009-07-02T10:12:00.000-07:00

Cave 9 DIY Space Documentary

2009-06-26T11:14:00.000-07:00

Proof that an ethic of"people before profits" still lives and breathes in the underground in 2009.

Needles Trip: 6/13-21/09

2009-06-23T13:22:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest parts of teaching is having summers off to reflect on the year and refresh your batteries. Over the last eight years my most solid climbing partner has been Mitch Ross from Santa Cruz. We met as teachers in Pajaro Valley and as it turns out, grew up in the same hometown. We don't get out to climb as much as we'd like but I always know that when the time comes to get feral in the mountains he's ready to get after it. This year we made our first sojourn in to the Needles of the Southern Sierra.

Mitch found this remarkable moth on our approach the first day.

The daunting 'Pyromania' on the Fire Wall, Sorcerer Needle.

Heavy weather atop the Charlatan. These climbers pulled off 'Thin Ice' and 'Fancy Free' before the storm rolled in. The 1938 fire lookout is in the background.

Stairway to the lookout.

Steep cracks and knobs on 'White Punks on Dope', Voodoo Dome.

After doing two off-route 5.8+X pitches of no-mistake-or-big-pancake slab climbing we were psyched to reach the top of Voodoo Dome. The Warlock is in the background.

The best parts of summer...

Slow mornings, triple threat coffee, and tall hair.

Mitch at the higher belay on 'Imaginary Voyage', Warlock Needle.

A beautiful tanninger at Dome Rock. Spring was in full effect and bugs were hatching after a late winter snow dump gave way to June's rising temps.

Last light atop Dome Rock.

East Buttress of Whitney

2009-06-23T11:07:00.000-07:00

I'd soloed each of the routes on Whitney in the past--once each for their own sake then both back to back in a long, hot push--but this was the first time to do the East Buttress roped up and with a partner. Despite the clouds, we climbed in t-shirts and were back to the Portal in 13 hours. Not a bad start to the season!

Highline Freesolos

2009-06-11T11:47:00.000-07:00

Lost Arrow Point, Yosemite

Taft Point, Yosemite

Chuckwalla Nation

2009-06-11T10:59:00.000-07:00

One Flag Project

2009-06-11T10:49:00.000-07:00

"We invite you to create a flag – free from language and well-worn clichés – that embodies the idea of global citizenship" Adbusters

Fundamental Equality by Anna Logan Napoli, New Orleans

All For One by Bizhan Khodabandeh, Richmond

Cultivation by Jennifer White-Torres, Baltimore

260=1 by Rory Brady, London

Sign/Signified

2009-02-07T16:43:00.000-08:00

Wheat paste kimono image from Clarion Alley.

Tall Tee = Thug Muu'muu

2009-02-07T16:19:00.000-08:00

What Members Only was to the 80s, Cross Colors was to the 90s: sought after, maligned, discarded, re-appropriated. How history will judge the hip hop of the early 21st century--let alone Hyphy/Bay Area Version 3.0--is anyone's guess. It's safe to say, though, that we're living in the golden age of the thug muu'muu. Be on your toes!

ps: Tall-tees are the preferred wardrobe of Laimsi, the Fifth Element.

(image from City Paper)

The Deeborn Koi

2009-02-07T16:06:00.000-08:00

Stencil Koi defeating weak tags near the Deerborn Community Garden.

Don't be alarmed, this is just a test

2009-01-08T20:47:00.000-08:00

"Please Note: On Thursday, December 18, 2008 testing of the gunshot recognition/locator system known as “Shotspotter” will take place in the Mission District. It is anticipated to occur at approximately 9:00 PM and will be occurring at various locations. The testing will occur in the areas of 18th St & Mission, 22nd St. & Valencia, 23rd St and Folsom, and 18th St and Bryant. Please do not hesitate to call 911 if you become aware of suspected gunshot sounds at any other time at those locations." (Post found after an extensive web search at Mission Mission)

This was and is very real. For twenty minutes the night of the 18th, the sound of gunshots rang out throughout my neighborhood. No advanced warning, no notification. Despite the increased popularity of the Mission as an "up and coming" (read: gentrifying; precious) neighborhood, the police seem content to treat it like just another blighted ghetto, ignoring the fact that this densely packed, vibrant and diverse neighborhood is home to thousands of families of all ages.

Highest Bidder Jailed

2009-01-08T19:46:00.000-08:00

(Copied from Tim DeChristopher's site)

As you may have already heard, on December 19th I chose to disrupt the BLM oil and gas auction through an act of civil disobedience by bidding against participating oil & gas companies. I ended up "winning" the leases for 22,500 acres of beautiful land near Moab. You can find more details at www.bidder70.org.

The tremendous support I've received in response to my action was unexpected and utterly inspiring. Hundreds of people have contributed over $10,000 to my legal defense and to the $45,000 bond obligation for the leases. And countless others have expressed their solidarity and support for the long American tradition of meaningful civil disobedience.

In addition to the moving effect on me, this support has also opened up the real possibility of paying off the leases which I "won". The initial payment on this, required to secure the land, is around $45,000. After a good deal of struggling over this choice, I have decided to raise the money to secure the leases. With much advice from my legal team, it has become clear to me that making the down payment on the leases is the best way to protect the land until we can restore open, transparent and democratic procedures for determining the fate of valuable public lands.

It is still unclear how the new administration will deal with this inappropriate auction and the disruption I caused to it, but I can only hope the President Obama follows through on his promise for a transparent government. Until then I will make sure that no drilling or development happens on this land, and for that I need your help. This is an opportunity for all of us to make a clear statement of how much we care for our land, our climate and participatory democracy.

Please donate to help protect these 22,500 acres of wilderness (and reduce the chance of prison for me). Together we can protect this land and show that we are all willing to make the sacrifices necessary for a livable future.

Please forward this email on to as many people as you can and continue to spread the word of the need for critical action. Thank you for being a part of protecting the future for all of us.

Sincerely,

Tim DeChristopher

Dave Graham: Giving hope to skinny dudes everywhere

2008-12-23T10:28:00.000-08:00

(old YouTube film shot by Wills Young in Bishop)

Several years ago Josh Lowell told me the difference between Chris Sharma and Dave Graham: Chris wanted to do the hardest route in the world; Dave wanted to do every hard route in the world. It seems to be working out well for him.

OMG! WTF?

2008-11-22T17:08:00.000-08:00

It's probably because I'm so close to kids who spend vast amounts of time online, but this story scared the hell out of me.

The longer I teach the more I realize the how powerful and corrosive American mass culture is.

It's not enough to opt out and pull deeper into the underground, but fighting the forces of U$ necro-culture feels sure feels disempowering.

***

"Hurt wastes your energy
Suffering wastes energy
Your emotions are nothing but politics
So get control...

No more number one
We've got to quit that game
No more attitude
Give it back to the TV set
No more tough-guy stance
I hear your mommy call
No more suicide
It kills everyone
No more petty love
No more petty hate
No more pettiness
No more pain"

(Embrace, "No More Pain", 1985. Image by P.I.T.C.H.)

Walt Shipley

2008-11-22T16:53:00.000-08:00

Crazy pure adventure. Mischief. Insane humor. Lust for life. Walt's spirit still inspires.

"If we don't meet again in this world/see you on the next one/don't be late..."
Jimi Hendrix

Rock Monkey Art

2008-11-22T16:28:00.000-08:00

('Whitney Cirque'--Renan Ozturk)

When I was finishing high school the three things that really held my little world together were climbing, hardcore, and graphic design. If I'd had the self-confidence and gotten over my anxieties about being color-blind, I'd have gone to art school and a whole lot of thins would probably have turned out differently.

('Ode to Cooks'--Renan Ozturk)

Anyhow, I've recently gotten re-excited about print-making and textile design and 2010 may finally yield some interesting new projects--some with my students, some on my own.

(Shipton Spire and Valley--Renan Ozturk)

I really love how these paintings capture both the intensity and subtlety of alpine landscapes. They also give me a chance to live vicariously in places that are familiar (Yosemite, Zion, Joshua Tree) and foreign (Pakistan). For more about Renan's artwork and adventures, visit his site, Rock Monkey Art.

Listen to Nina Simone

2008-11-16T21:26:00.000-08:00

Turning Point: Casey Watson

2008-11-16T18:59:00.000-08:00

Casey Watson is probably the one person I know who can honestly say, "straight edge saved my life." Over the past 15 years he's played in innumerable bands, traveled widely, and I think grown into the person he truly wants to be. It was a pleasure to see him recognized outside of the scene he loves. (Text from the San Francisco Chronicle.)

At age 14, James Lee Williams was convicted of robbery, extortion and making terrorist threats, crimes committed when he was high on marijuana and alcohol. He had gone to Juvenile Hall seven times by age 17.

Ryun Repetto started drinking alcohol when he was 12 and soon graduated to marijuana, cocaine, mushrooms and LSD. He hit bottom at 16, when -- loaded and in a rage -- he tried to kill his father by stabbing him and beating him with a club.

Today, Williams and Repetto, both 18, are sober. They talk about attending college and how they are mending relationships with their families. Both finished the San Francisco Marathon in July.

Their lives began to change, they say, when a judge sent them to spend one year at Thunder Road, a one-of-a-kind drug rehabilitation program for teens. Located in Oakland and modeled after the Betty Ford Center, Thunder Road is the only chemical dependency recovery hospital for youth in California.

"I knew something had to change, but I didn't know what it was," Williams said. "Now, I feel like I have my priorities straight."

Repetto said, "I came in here, and I was going to fake it. But if you are willing to listen, and you go to AA meetings, if you really try, it works."

Thunder Road has been designated as the beneficiary of the Alta Bates Summit Foundation's annual celebrity classic tennis tournament, which takes place Saturday at the Berkeley Tennis Club.

The event -- headlined by two-time Grand Slam Finalist Todd Martin and by MaliVai Washington, the first African American man to reach a Grand Slam singles final since Arthur Ashe -- will also feature celebrities such as actor Dick Van Patten, Judge Joseph Wapner and game show host Wink Martindale.

The proceeds have been earmarked to expand Thunder Road's culinary arts program, which provides the kind of vocational training that helped one Thunder Road graduate become a pastry chef at San Francisco's Postrio restaurant.

Sixty percent of the teens at Thunder Road have been sentenced there by the courts for a year of inpatient care funded by taxpayers and private grants, while others have typically been committed by parents for shorter treatment stays.

Everyone there has to abide by strict rules -- no romantic relationships, no cursing, no tobacco use -- and to follow rigidly structured schedules. There are daily treatment assignments, Narcotics Anonymous meetings, school, group therapy and family-dynamics meetings, which parents are required to attend.

The hospital often has a long waiting list, something administrator Tom Gerstel said is a reflection of how few drug and alcohol treatment programs are available to youth.

Four out of 5 people in prison have serious drug and alcohol problems, Gerstel said. The Bay Area has roughly 1,400 kids locked up in juvenile halls but just 250 residential beds in group homes with drug and alcohol counseling. Thunder Road's 50 beds are the only ones licensed for both hospital and group home use.

"We shouldn't be incarcerating our way out of this problem," Gerstel said. "But adolescent treatment just hasn't been the focus."
To learn more about benefit, Thunder Road

For more information about Thunder Road, go to thunder-road.org or call (510) 653-5040. For information about the Alta Bates Summit Foundation's Celebrity Classic, go to absfdn.org or call (510) 204-1667.

Mental Health Holiday: Joshua Tree

2008-11-16T13:38:00.000-08:00

(Beneath 'Finley's Crack'--Iceberg Boulder, Rattlesnake Canyon, JTNP)

(Tips and toes on 'Rubicon'--Split Rocks area, JTNP)

Dancing in the Streets: 11/4/08

2008-11-04T01:31:00.000-08:00

Obama's win is making the Mission look like the set of that old Bowie/Jagger video...only in a good way.

Embrace your inner hipster--apolitical kafiyah and vaguely ironic mustache and all--and take to the streets!

A shriek turned to stone

2008-11-01T16:11:00.000-07:00

('Patagonia Dreams' found on YouTube.)

Fall Psych

2008-10-12T11:07:00.000-07:00

(Yuji Huriyama high on the Nose--pulled from Speedclimb.com)

The last warmth of summer has given way to a chilly fall. The East Bay Bouldering Crew is craking as usual. Hans and Yuji are going for another speed attempt on the Nose today, and blue skies surround SF despite the Blue Angels' best attempts to scare the city with their vulgar display of power and noise.

I've been experimenting with different variations on my hangboard routine (pyramid hangs: 2,4,6,4,2 seconds; 10 minute condensed workouts; L-sit pullups). I'm still a bit of a novice at this kind of training, but I'm keeping with it. The hardest part of training is choosing to begin.

(Old Reinhardt Karl photo from Wolfgang Gullich's book.)

Dawn Patrol

2008-10-11T15:42:00.000-07:00

(Using the night to get more day--Bugaboos.)

My good friend Steve is no stranger to F.O.M.O.--Fear Of Missing Out. It's a known killer of men below 65 and when he gets to feeling particularly behind the training curve he'll lament, "while I'm sleeping, they're getting strong." "They" could be the next V12 grommet, the off-the-couch savant who does the Nose-in-a-Day, or the low-key East Siders who treat the Incredible Hulk like a mere crag. Not to be left out or behind, he's heading into the Gorge several days a week--before teaching!--to run laps on 5.11s and 12s that he's got in the bag. Just as folks are dropping into the Central Gorge he's on his way out having logged a respectable afternoon's worth of routes.

(Jon Baum going third-class on Bugaboo Spire.)

Feeling some mighty F.O.M.O. of my own I've started dawn patrolling in the spirit of Alex Lowe. Lowe's infectious energy, drive, work ethic and caffeine consumption are the things of legend. My dawn patrol--hangboarding or doing yoga from 5-6 am; bike commuting to school--is building toward the alpine ideal of going higher, lighter, and faster.

(Room 122 where I like to think I model a way of living as much as I model sentence trees.)

Black Dove

2008-10-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

Dennis Berendt's Black Dove have single-handedly revived my faith in heavy music. I'm not usually taken with d-beat and the cacophony of denim-n-leather punks in a world without soap channeling Motorhead and Tolkien...but Black Dove is something special. Cloaked beneath the nihilism and aesthetics of doom I can't help but remember that Dennis has a heart of gold and believes deeply in the possibility of change. What he began with Three Studies and continued with The Awakening lives on and that makes my day a little brighter.

Check them out here.

Still/Hear 2

2008-10-10T06:00:00.000-07:00

"The words and the pictures and the voice are held like weapons/hate as an object, as a product and it sells so quickly/all just to prove we can be just as numb as our enemy/and if you really care then why do you use these tactics?" ("Numb", Campaign, 1992)

The Fiend still inspires

2008-10-09T19:23:00.001-07:00

R.I.P. Alex.
(Conrad Anker photo)

Bill Ayers: A Call to Teach

2008-10-09T19:10:00.000-07:00

I'd like a president to know "radicals" like Ayers.

Still/Hear 1

2008-10-04T18:30:00.000-07:00

As cheesy and cliche as some of these records seem now, each of these seven inches--an anachronism if there ever was one--defined the landscape of hardcore punk for me and my closest friends in the early 90s. They're part of me, and through them I found my voice and a way to define and describe my values outside of the confines of white suburban California.

Writing With Light

2008-09-20T09:04:00.000-07:00

Joshua Peach is a good friend whose photographs keep evolving--aesthetically and emotionally. Like a lot of friends, I wish he wasn't so far away, but these photos keep him at least a little bit closer.

Art as Protest

2008-08-04T18:17:00.001-07:00

"[Merz] is an idea about how the artist takes the deconstructed world--the world that has been emptied of all meaning by commercialization--and makes something of the rubble."
Bill T. Jones in Plazm 14, 1996

This 1970 image from the Art Workers Coalition begs the 2008 question, What would we see now?

During the first intifada, images of Palestinian children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks struck me like nothing else I'd ever seen. The indecency of the bullets fired upon those kids and the US funding for those tanks drove home the gross inequity of militarism and state power.

ACT UP's early campaigns--mass 'die-in' demonstrations, bloody handprints on the headquarters of big pharma--were both visually arresting and inspiring.

Robbie Conal's "Contra Cocaine" posters appeared all over greater LA the summer of the Ollie North hearings and seemed like one a logical extension of the agit-prop collages of Winston Smith and Gee Vaucher.

Finally, the photo China doesn't want you to see. With the start of this year's Olympics in Beijing, I can think of no greater way to celebrate the spirit of resistance than to reproduce this image.

(All images culled from the net.)

Amplifier Worship ))) Boris: 8/2/08

2008-08-04T17:45:00.000-07:00

Kiss Alive is a lackluster offering from the masters of unadulterated Id, but it does have one of the greatest covers in all of rock and roll.

Boris bears almost no resemblance to the Motor City madmen. They drift seamlessly between glacial-paced drone and ear-splitting psychadelia, Stooges-inspired garage stomps and dirges that seem to split time in the grand tradition of Funkadelic's 'Maggot Brain'...all at a volume that begins at 11.

Perhaps more than anything else, Boris exercise--or exorcise--the power of that cover. Eardrums be damned.

Pattern. Texture. Color.

2008-07-29T18:42:00.000-07:00

[Top to bottom: three trees in Tuolumne, chard with ginger, turmeric, and coriander, lotus flower in Kuai, Sierra shooting star]

Earth: 6/20/08

2008-07-29T18:08:00.000-07:00

Dylan Carson and Earth makes the music that Ozzy's children should play. He has climbed inside the cone of an amp is looking out at the rest of us from within. Not so much within a note, but a tone. It's more than the sound of a hesher buried to his neck in molasses, trying to play the opening riff of 'Fairies Wear Boots'. He's reaching for something further out there; further than Sunn; further than darkness at the edge of town.

Buttermilk/Tuolumne Video Teaser

2008-07-15T18:15:00.000-07:00

Sierra Segment Trailer from Neil Gill on Vimeo.

This is from a film by Dave Gill. That should be out in November 2008. From the look of the Bachar-Yerian footage, it'll be fantastic. Check out Dave's site at: http://steepmedia.blogspot.com/
Likewise, the fine still images for the film are at Neil Gill's blog:
http://neiliogillio.blogspot.com/

Septoplasti

2008-07-15T14:48:00.000-07:00

For the last 25 years I really haven't been able to breathe through my nose. Severe allergies, nose-revolt around smoke, and a deviated septum have pretty much made my nose useless. This month I dropped $10 on the Kaiser co-pay and had it carved up. (At that cost I might as well tear my ACL!) Anyhow, so far so good...

Take the gates of Heaven by storm

2008-07-13T14:55:00.000-07:00

"They're talking about the round and round/but tell me who's got the real anti parent culture sound?" (N.O.U., 1992)

"Ulysses, ulysses, beloved of the youth."

"The Nation of Ulysses must prevail!"

[Justine Demetrick images from Dear Jesus. B/W image by Shawn Scallen. Video from YouTube. ]

Ridges, aretes, and traverses

2008-07-13T14:28:00.000-07:00

South Notch to The Gap, Minarets

Tyrolean cast-off, Sun Ribbon Arete, Temple Crag, Palisades

Bugaboos classic, West Ridge of Pigeon Spire, Purcell Range

Thunderbolt to North Palisade Traverse, Palisades

Matthes Crest, Tuolumne Meadows

One Less Car, Literally

2008-07-13T13:52:00.000-07:00

My trusty Civic was stolen last month ending a pretty good run here in the Mission--four years with no parking problems, no theft, and only minor vandalism. For the time being I'm not replacing it, instead delving headfirst into a car-free life. My current ride is my dad's old 1980 Eisentraut 'limited' that has immense sentimental value and some really cool hand-made detailing. With luck this shift in lifestyle will afford me lots of new chances to explore the city and stay in shape in the dark days of the school year. At least that's what my inner-Deepak Choprah thinks.