“These doctors and nurses should be warned, however, that their work, to quote the America humourist P.J. O’Rourke will mainly involve ‘treating hockey injuries and curing sinus infections that come from trying to pronounce French vowels’. Ah yes, hockey. If you thought British sport was becoming crude and violent, try watching two teams of toothless brutes sliding around on ice and pausing every few minutes to beat the daylights out of each other. It makes the Premiership look like synchronised swimming. However bad Britain may seem, trust me, moving to Canada is not the answer. Why not try somewhere more appealing. Siberia, for example.”—No wonder the local beavers bite off their wotsits: Why one man won’t be joining the rush to move to Canada | Mail Online
Some of the best memories in my life are of this very neighborhood of SF.
When I first moved down to SF, I was staying at a tiny little hostel on Sacramento in between Montgomery and Kearny, almost exactly where the Financial District, meets Chinatown, meets North Beach. the hostel room had 20 other people in it, and, while I had to go to work every morning, everyone else there was on vacation. I would generally go out with whatever Aussies were passing through that night, and usually head down to Vesuvio, or Specs, across the street for some beers to help me sleep.
Then in ‘04 or ‘05 or so, Liz and I decided to go to San Francisco for a few days before heading out to Burning Man. We ended up staying in the Green Tortoise Annex, just off Broadway, and had a great time. One night we went to City Lights and bought about $300 worth of books, wandered down the road to the SF Brewing Co, and drank beer and read books.
I sent this link to George Takei and Stephen Wicary over twitter, but it took me a damn long time to find it, so here I immortalize the paragraph and link
When I hear the phrase “lifestyle choice,” I visualize a couple of tanned, toned, and mustachioed men sitting around reading brochures so they can make a truly informed choice. On one brochure, a suburban family piles into a cream-colored SUV on the way to Wal-Mart to stock up on toilet paper and Pringles. On the other brochure, a crew of oiled-up muscle studs in Speedos sip from coconuts at a pool party while the DJ takes it up a notch. After browsing through both brochures, one guy finally says to the other, “Mario? I think we should make the gay lifestyle choice after all.”
If you’ve driven through open range land, you would know what these are. Apparently they’re named after Canadians in France.
Basically, it’s a term for the metal rods in the road that stop cows passing through. On my favourite climb in the 2012 Tour - Col du Grand Colombier - there is not much up top except several barrières Canadiennes on each side.
Apparently, a Potluck dinner is called a Picnique Canadienne as well. Those crazy French!
There’s a great site out there where a blogger talks different performers into doing very stripped down versions of their songs in different locations, like an elevator (Arcade Fire), the Steps around the Arsenale in Paris, or the arcade of a Parisian apartment (Bon Iver). Look through the list of shows and I’m sure you’ll find a different and surprising take on a song you thought you knew
I got on their mailing list years ago back when they were originally at the WTO riots, when we were on the nettime mailing list, mainly full of Eastern European radical anarchists. ( I have a story back in the archives about that, that I should dig up ). Anyhoo, I get fun email like this from them.
You’re on the Yes Men mailing list, which means you’ve probably seen some of our corporate crime-fighting mischief. Now it’s time to spring into action yourself—by becoming Best Friends Forever (BFFs) with the 1% who have wrecked the economy and left us with the bill.
Visit www.occupytheboardroom.org to find hundreds of available 1%ers today; then figure out how to reach them. The idea is to reveal, through hilarious action (like that phone call to Gov. Walker, for instance), something about your new 1% BFF and their nasty, people-destructive practices.
There are many ways to do this. There’s the telephone, of course, and there’s email. Or how about giving them an award, or paying them a visit in costume? For more suggestions, go pick your new BFF now! Whatever you do, make it revealing, nonviolent, and funny; document it well, and email images, video, audio or text to firstname.lastname@example.org. The funniest interactions, that reveal the most about the 1% (or just your particular BFF), will win prizes.
This isn’t easy to do—but then neither is sleeping out in the rain, let alone digging ourselves out of the mess that the 1% have created.
One of my favourite “Hikes” in the world is the walk through Cinqueterre in Italy.
When you go hiking up in say … Gatineau Park, you need to take along food, water, and while there’s a few cabins about, they’re not really social spaces.
Cinqueterre on the other hand, is a fantastic hike, because you can start in the morning with a cornetto and machiato in Monterosso al Mare, do a semi difficult hike through olive groves to Vernazza, grab a panini and sit in a piazza and have lunch, do a quick hike to Corniglia, have a swim, go up the stairs for a coffee, and then have very flat, very easy stroll to Riomaggiore.
Here is what Fell off the Dock sounded like before the Falcon Lake shake. @chrispager is playing the harmonized solo. We recorded this the summer before at the Bathhouse Studio’s thanks to the kindness of the Tragically Hip.
Supposedly an editor had clumsily rearranged one of Churchill’s sentences to avoid ending it in a preposition, and the Prime Minister, very proud of his style, scribbled this note in reply: “This is the sort of bloody nonsense up with which I will not put.”
But apparently clumsy editors continue to thrive at the Ottawa Citizen