Kevespada

G̶e̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶R̶o̶l̶e̶s̶ Pizza Rolls

— Totinos (@totinos) December 12, 2013

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Would you believe that an adult bicycle could arrive flat-packed, be easily assembled by you at home, and ready to be ridden in just a short matter of time? Basten Leijh has done just that with Sandwichbike, an innovative bicycle made of wood that he designed and developed.

Sandwichbike’s unique frame is made of two weatherproof beech wood panels that will stand up in less than ideal weather conditions. The wood comes from sustainably managed forests in Germany as the company takes environmental concerns seriously.

Carefully milled aluminum parts are what holds the two wooden panels together, turning all of the individual pieces into a Sandwichbike.

With the handy tool that’s included, you can assemble your bicycle in less than an hour. “If you can make a sandwich, you can make a Sandwichbike.”

If you have watched a single trailer for Saving Mr. Banks, the story of how Walt Disney attempted to convince the stubborn author P. L. Travers to sell him the movie rights to her book Mary Poppins, then you will already have put together that this is not a "warts and all" take on the mythical mogul. "He wasn't a warty guy," Tom Hanks, who plays Disney in the film, told The Hollywood Reporter. "There was the labor issues that were in the forties and stuff like that. But by and large, no.” That will come as a surprise to anyone who has read mentions of Walt Disney's alleged anti-Semitism, or his cryogenically frozen head, or any of the other rumors that swirl around the icon. So in order to get things straight, here is a factual analysis of all the many charges laid against Walt Disney in real life. Spoiler alert: He is not buried beneath Pirates of the Caribbean.

The charge: Walt Disney was an anti-Semite.
The evidence: Well, there's the famous Three Little Pigs scene, in which the wolf was portrayed as a Jewish peddler. (The scene was later reanimated.) And there is the fact that in 1938, a month after Kristallnacht, Disney personally welcomed Nazi director Leni Riefenstahl to his studios. In Walt Disney: The Triumph of the American Imagination (the most thorough biography of the mogul), Neal Gabler explores the rumors but argues that Disney practiced tolerance in his home life. "There is some dispute whether the same spirit of tolerance extended to the studio, but of the Jews who worked there, it was hard to find any who thought Walt was an anti-Semite."
Believability: Gabler posits that the charges stemmed less from personal behavior and more from Disney's association with the very anti-Semitic Motion Picture Alliance, which the CEO founded after a particularly bitter labor dispute in 1941. Even if he wasn't personally anti-Semitic, Gabler allows that Disney "willingly, even enthusiastically, embraced [anti-Semites] and cast his fate with them."

The charge: Walt Disney was racist.
The evidence: These charges stem primarily from the use of racial stereotypes in Disney movies from the 40s: Dumbo's black crows; Fantasia's black servant centaurette; and Song of the South, a movie so offensive that the Disney company will no longer let it be seen in public. Then there is Walt Disney's own behavior: Gabler cites a meeting in which Disney referred to the Snow White dwarves as a "nigger pile" and another in which he used the term "pickaninny." The book notes that Disney anticipated the Song of the South controversy and attempted to make it less racist with a rewrite and meeting with the NAACP. The meeting never happened, and the movie was released anyway. There was also some controversy about the company's unwillingness to hire minorities at Disneyland.
Believability: Those are certainly not flattering facts, but they are facts.

The charge: Walt Disney was also sexist.
The evidence: From Gabler: "Some of his associates thought Walt didn't particularly like women. 'He didn't trust women or cats,' Ward Kimball observed." And then there is this letter, sent from the Disney company in 1938, informing an applicant that "women do not do creative work."
Believability: Women didn't get hired for most things in 1938. But again: not flattering.

The charge: Walt Disney was an FBI informant.
The evidence: The 1993 biography Hollywood and the Dark Prince published documents alleging that Disney reported political subversion in Hollywood to the Bureau for 26 years. The New York Times deemed the documents authentic, but the Disney family then denied the reports, and the book has since been discredited. But! According to Gabler, Disney helped found his own anti-Communist organization — the aforementioned Motion Picture Alliance — and he testified publicly in front of the House Un-American Activities Committee.
Believability: Walt Disney definitely did not like Communists. But everything else here is suspicious.

The charge: Walt Disney was cryogenically frozen, and his body is stored in a chamber underneath Disneyland's Pirates of the Caribbean ride.
The evidence: Two mostly discredited biographies claim that Disney expressed "an interest" in cryogenics before his death. Then his family held a private funeral. Somehow, the frozen story sprung up from here. (Sometimes it's his whole body that was frozen, sometimes just his head.)
Believability: This is made up. Walt Disney's ashes are located in Glendale. Sorry.

Read more posts by Amanda Dobbins

Filed Under: fact-check ,saving mr. banks ,movies ,walt disney

Fashion, I'll never understand you! But I can't quit you! Mainly because going outside naked is a societal no-no. Although maybe it's preferable to carrying this wang-and-ballicals purse in public? I can't be sure.

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The ratings for Nashville, ABC's drama about the personal and professional tribulations of artists on all rungs of the career ladder in the titular city's country music scene, aren't exactly spectacular. T. Bone Burnett, the musician, songwriter, and record producer who is married to Nashville creator Callie Khouri, and who crafted the show's signature gorgeous sound, left after the first season, explaining, "Some people were making a drama about real musicians' lives, and some were making a soap opera, so there was that confusion. It was a knockdown, bloody, drag-out fight, every episode."

There is some inherent conflict in trying to craft a successful network show, but Burnett's not wrong, either. In the first half of this season alone, Nashville has thrown in several suspect subplots, including a fake pregnancy that ended in a fake marriage, complete with pig's blood. A country starlet started an affair with a millionaire record-station owner, whose wife would like to make their situation even more complicated. And, in what seems like a positively mundane subplot by comparison, a daughter helped send her own father to jail.

And yet I can't stop watching Nashville, and not because it features the kind of drama that makes me want to inhale an entire bag's worth of popcorn. The show's network-ordered soapy excesses, designed to lure in new viewers, are bringing them into what's become a remarkably sophisticated exploration of how women are processed into the entertainment-industrial complex, and what happens to them when they try to carve out independent identities within it.

If we start at the bottom of the ladder, it's striking to compare the trajectories of the show's two ingenues. Scarlett O'Connor (Clare Bowen) began the first season of Nashville as a true naif, a waitress who loved country music, but never imagined that the poems she writes could be turned into lyrics -- or that she could be the one to sing them. But Scarlett is both physically proximate to the music industry by virtue of her job, and she has a powerful connection in the form of her uncle, Deacon Claybourne (Charles Esten). And whether she recognizes it or not, her abilities with words, and her exceptionally pure, clear voice, are tremendously valuable commodities. Scarlett's quickly signed to a songwriting contract, and then as a solo artist by Rayna James (the marvelous Connie Britton). 

Rayna is an artist at the height of her powers and commercial viability, who's trying to establish an independent label. But as well intentioned as Rayna, who's in the midst of a creative revitalization herself, is when it comes to Scarlett's career, she ignores that her protege is neither psychologically nor technically prepared for her career to move forward so quickly. When Scarlett is first delivered to the parent record company that owns Rayna's label, she has an experience similar to Little Women's Meg March at her first fancy party: "they powdered and squeezed and frizzled, and made me look like a fashion-plate." Scarlett's shocked by the way her identity is casually cast aside by the people who are making her over, flails at a rope line, and freaks out at her first appearance opening for a superstar named Luke Wheeler (Will Chase).

Unnaturalness doesn't come naturally to everyone. And Scarlett's experience is an often heartbreaking illustration of the very real costs of success. Even after she scrapes herself off the stage and manages to recover from a booing at her first Luke Wheeler show, Nashville finds Scarlett on the phone telling her mother that she isn't cut out for the fame that's been thrust upon her, but that she feels obligated to live up to Rayna's hopes and her label's investment in her.

Contrast Scarlett's experience with Layla Grant's (Aubrey Peeples). As the winner of a major televised singing competition, Layla's effectively been through a boot camp that polished her hair, clothes and makeup, prepared her to talk to the press, and equipped her with a roster of iTunes-friendly cover versions of a popular song to give her an immediate connection with her audience. Grant's completely at ease with the seemingly simple tasks that cause Scarlett the most trouble, but that doesn't mean that she's no longer at risk of show biz chewing her up and spitting her out. 

Jeff Fordham (Oliver Hudson), the bottom line-conscious executive hired to run Edgehill Records (the label that's at the heart of the show) signed Layla in part to reign in Juliette Barnes (Hayden Panettiere), a former teeny-bopper favorite who now looks at Rayna's artistic integrity with covetous eyes. The two young women quickly fall for Fordham's machinations. Barnes interprets every gesture from Grant as a threat, and tries to nuke her perceived rival at every turn instead of co-opting her or redirecting her artistic ambitions. And Grant can't resist yanking Barnes' tail, giving herself an encore while opening for Barnes, and thus cutting into Barnes' set.

On a personal level, Grant, who's in her late teens when she rises to prominence, lets Fordham set her up in a press-friendly fake romance with her labelmate and fellow opener on Juliette's tour, Will Lexington (Chris Carmack). Will is gay -- or at least bisexual -- and deeply closeted, and views the arrangement with Layla as convenient cover. But Layla, who is in the dark about Will's sexuality, can't help but fall for the facade they're putting on for the public. Watching her begin to care about Will is a strikingly sad, even cruel sight. It's just as bad to mistake a facade for your real self as to recoil from the face that other people are trying to paint on you.

Juliette Barnes stands several professional levels above Scarlett and Layla in Nashville's hierarchy, and she's a year deeper into her negotiation with her brand. Barnes' story arcs are often where some of Nashville's soapiest segments take place. In the first season, her mother, a serious drug addict, killed herself after murdering her former sober companion, who had tried to blackmail Juliette after the two became lovers. This year, she started schtupping a married record-station mogul whose wife would badly like to get in on the action.

But when she isn't the subject of scandalous storylines, Juliette is often in the midst of a battle to the death with her record industry for her independence as an artist -- and for her psychic survival. As unstrategic and flailing as her efforts often seem, they constitute a kind of primal scream against Jeff Fordham's attempts to manipulate her and the tyranny of teenbopper taste and required profit margins.

Negotiation is rarely Juliette's tactic of choice. In the first season of Nashville, and in the midst of an enormous tour, Juliette began switching up her act, placing extra stress on her band and giving Edgehill's previous chief fits when she started experimenting with acoustic sets and playing songs that weren't even available as iTunes downloads, much less tied to a larger record that Edgehill could sell. This year, out on a solo tour, Juliette has accepted Layla, who she despises as a pale imitator, and Will, as her opening acts. But Juliette's done everything she can to avoid being pushed out in favor of a girl just a few years younger than her, whether she's punishing Layla for taking an encore, or co-opting a planned duet between Will and Layla so Layla can't be the original artist associated with a promising new single.

It's a profoundly unsisterly set of acts, playing straight into the competition set up by Jeff Fordham. But what choice does Juliette have? Should she submit quietly to the idea that her career should only be a few years long? If the entertainment industry is forcing women into competition with each other, is the most feminist thing to do to surrender?

In another area, Juliette acts with the broader interests of women in country music in mind. Her radio-station mogul suitor, eager to prove that he takes Juliette seriously as an artist and that he values her more than his business, fires a DJ who has the power to make or break a new female singer with his endorsement, and who has used his stature to sexually harass Juliette and other young women in her position. Juliette is initially furious at her boyfriend's white knight-like intervention -- she'd told the DJ to take his hands off her himself. But she ultimately decides to use the situation to her advantage, having the DJ rehired and summoning him for an audience where she delivers an ultimatum: the next time he touches another girl and Juliette hears about it, he's gone for real, and for good.

Using your married boyfriend's business connections to exact revenge is not exactly a sustainable plan for social change. But it makes sense that an angry, isolated young woman who's suffered both physical and psychological abuse during her time in the music industry would be impatient. The story was a powerful reminder of what it takes to make gatekeepers in the entertainment industry change their behavior, and how ephemeral that change can be. If Juliette and her suitor break up, if the radio station is sold, if the DJ decides he can risk Juliette's wrath, this small victory can be quickly reversed.

Finally, there's Rayna James herself. Rayna's past the age where she's a target of casual sexual harassment, and she's sold too many records to be subject to quid pro quos. But that doesn't mean that she has complete artistic independence. And her storyline this season has illustrated how difficult it can be for women to amass the financial capital that would purchase them the independence to make their own choices about their careers -- or about anyone else's.

At the end of last season, Rayna set up her own label and reached handshake agreements with Scarlett and Will to sign them as solo artists. But when she was sidelined by a car accident, Jeff Fordham offered them both record deals, and Will, tempted by the bigger money and more significant opportunities that Edgehill could offer him, walked. A start-up is a tempting idea, but it requires an enormous amount of personal focus to get off the ground, and Rayna, who's been dealing with her physical recovery, the dissolution of her marriage, and the revelation that her oldest daughter was fathered by a different man than her ex-husband, simply doesn't have the bandwidth to do it right.

The obstacles aren't just psychological and timing, either. As part of her plan to break free from Fordham's influence, Rayna planned to buy back the masters of her recordings from Edgehill, using a loan from her father to acquire assets that would guarantee her financial independence. But when her father was indicted and his assets frozen, Rayna couldn't follow up on her plan. And Jeff used Rayna's contract terms to justify seizing the master recordings of songs she'd planned for her new album. The law and the larger pool of money are on Jeff's side. Rayna may be famous and wealthy compared to most of the country, but it's established in Nashville's pilot that her family is cash-poor. The capital it takes simply to buy back your own music, much less set up a label that can survive independent of a larger corporate umbrella, is daunting. Rayna's ambitions are admirable, but she's running up against a system that has had decades to perfect its self-preservation mechanisms.

The truth is, if Nashville told these stories straight, we might feel crushed under their weight. As a woman who writes a great deal about how women have been systematically excluded from producing creative work in the corporate entertainment system, how few women are in ownership and leadership positions in the industry, and how rarely women are the subjects of entertainment in meaningful, substantive ways, I can tell you, that story gets exhausting. Even if Burnett and other people involved in Nashville's production are trying to keep the show from getting utterly ludicrous, those suds do make the story slide a little more easily. And every week, Nashville gives us gorgeous music from Rayna, Juliette and Scarlett. It's a beautiful reminder of what they're fighting for -- the right to make stunning art, and to preserve their humanity while doing it.

By Lucy Guanuna

Lurex. Wool. Sharkskin. Lamé. For John Carlos de Luna, artist and founder of online vintage clothing store, Barrio Dandy Vintage, these are more than fabrics, they make up pieces representative of a time when men’s wardrobes exuded the style and aesthetic of glamour and chivalry. The Boyle Heights resident considers these materials reminiscent of the “elegancia” of the era of the Golden Age of Mexican cinema. The words come out of his mouth with as much awe and admiration as any guy would speak of a lover they are consumed by and infatuated with. For De Luna, they are “perfect” and “beautiful”.

“My objective is to work with dudes who’ve never really “dressed up. I help them pick something that makes them feel good about themselves and to feel empowered as a man,” De Luna said. His advice to fashion novices: “Pull up your pants and don’t sag them, put on a tie and take off that damn baseball hat.”

De Luna was raised in Boyle Heights by his grandparents. He said his grandfather was a “very dapper man” who abandoned his work clothes for fedoras, three piece suits and wingtip shoes as soon as the weekend hit. Living on modest means, De Luna was forced to learn how to navigate the racks of local thrift stores at an early age. That’s where he said he developed his love for “the search”, for finding pieces of used clothing that would make him whatever and whoever he wanted to be.

Reaching his teens, the now 33-year-old De Luna, was surrounded by the plague of gang violence during the ‘80s and ‘90s. In high school, De Luna opted out of the gangster lifestyle and fell into the small but thriving punk rock and rockabilly scenes of the Eastside, where his thrifting skills proved to come in handy.

“I wanted to be a rockabilly kid back in high school, or a greaser… any lil’ style or trend that was around, and I was easily able to recreate it. Not until recently did I begin to do it on a broader level, allowing me to sustain myself,” De Luna said.
De Luna has always been fascinated by the classic look and quality of clothing from the 40s and 50s and in looking to expand his own vintage clothing collection, he took to Ebay and his backyard more than 15 years ago, to trade and sell pieces. When his sales on Ebay were no longer giving him the same return, De Luna switched over to sales on the e-commerce site, Etsy, where he opened online store, Barrio Dandy Vintage, in May.

De Luna travels all over California and the West Coast in search of items for the store, which enables him to offer a varied selection of men’s vintage clothing from the ‘40s through the ‘70s. The items are categorized by era and the price range varies, starting at about $12 for a 1980′s pink Mexican American guayavera to about $65 for a canary yellow 1950′s gabardine flap pocket shirt. De Luna said he tries to remain accessible by selling most of his pieces for a little under market value.

Apart from De Luna’s online sales, he regularly hosts Barrio Dandy Vintage pop-up shops all over Los Angeles, at locales like Mariachi Plaza, Boyle Heights’ CaminArte and Downtown Flea.

Many of De Luna’s clients have learned of him through word of mouth but many have found Barrio Dandy Vintage through different social media platforms, particularly Instagram. Many clients began to ask for styling tips along with their purchases, which lead De Luna to add “Dandy Stylist” and personal shopper to his repertoire.

The “Barrio Dandy’s” social media presence lead Stones Throw Record’s soul duo, Myron and E, to seek him out to style their music videos “If I gave you My Love” and “Do It Disco”. “They were looking to do a ‘60s look and a late ‘80s disco hip hop look which I was most hyped up about because I grew up with a bunch of crazy gangster uncles who were into hip-hop in the 80s”, De Luna said.
He has also been asked to do costume design for independent filmmaker, Michael Centeno’s latest short film, “El Espiritu”, about a small boy and his fascination with a the ‘60s luchador, El Espiritu, which is currently in production.

He said he has hopes of one day making Barrio Dandy Vintage a brick and mortar location in the form of a men’s haberdashery. It would be place where men can go to find everything they need including clothing, jewelry, grooming supplies and music, De Luna said. “A place where gentlemen can go to be gentlemen. There’s never been anything like that on the Eastside.”

Lucy Guanuna, a journalism student at Cal State Northridge, has reported on a variety of issues, including business, education and social justice movements in her native Los Angeles. Her work has been published in the Daily Sundial, L.A. Activist, and the San Fernando Valley Business Journal.

First Munch, now this? Dann Florek is also leaving Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, because his character Captain Cragen has reached the mandatory retirement age for the NYPD and suddenly accuracy really, really matters for some reason. "Friday was the last day [for] Cragen/Florek," the actor tweeted yesterday. "It was a sweet send off! But he'll live on in syndication land 4 evah!" Sigh. In honor of Cragen's last Cragening, let us watch the absolute nadir of both the character and SVU in general, which is of course the monkey in the basketball:

Read more posts by Margaret Lyons

Filed Under: exits ,tv ,dann florek ,law and order svu

The margaritas will soon stop flowing at Barragan’s and El Conquistador as the two Mexican restaurants prepare to close their respective Echo Park and Silver Lake locations  later this month after decades of serving up drinks and platters of Mexican-American favorites.  But the restaurants are not going quietly. Barragan’s, which opened more than 50 years ago on Sunset Boulevard in Echo Park, is planning a going away celebration on Friday, Dec. 13, it’s last day in operation.   Meanwhile, about a mile west on Sunset in Silver Lake, residents have organized a public ceremony to celebrate El Conquistador’s 40 years in business.  “It will be a celebration and a funeral, both happy and sad,” said Vincent Brooks, who organized a Community Farewell Commemoration for El Conquistador on Sunday, Dec. 15 at 2 p.m.  at Polka Dot Plaza outside the Silver Lake restaurant.

Brooks and his wife have been patronizing El Conquistador for 35 years, with the couple dining at the restaurant virtually every week. “It struck us particularly hard,” said Brooks of the closure, which was announced in July in the wake of new landlords and a stiff rent increase. “We had a special relationship with the place.”  Brooks, in an email to residents, explained what made El Conquistador so special:

The occasion of course will be bittersweet, as El Conq (as the place is fondly known), which closes its doors for good on Dec. 22 after 40 years, has become a Silver Lake institution. It earned this distinction not only from its great food and the best Margaritas in town, but also from the festive atmosphere and joyous spirit created by its owners, Jesse Pinto and Alberto Curiel, and its loyal personnel, many of whom have been there for decades.

Brooks said the restaurant is scheduled to close Dec. 22

In Echo Park, Barragan’s will be holding a day-long farewell part on its last day – Friday, Dec. 13 – with a mariachis and a DJ. Owner Armando Barragan announced the closure of the restaurant in October after agreeing to sell the property; his family’s restaurants in Burbank and Glendale will remain open.

 

A postal carrier was thrown out of her truck after her vehicle was rammed by a pick-up truck driven by a 13-year-old driver during a late afternoon collision in Angeleno Heights.

The  postal truck ended up on top of the female postal carrier but she was in stable condition following the collision at the intersection of Douglas Street and Calumet Avenue, said Sgt. Dave Rich with the LAPD’s Central Traffic Bureau. The underage driver was being detained.

The collision took place at about 4:20 p.m. when the pick-up truck, headed westbound on Calumet, broadsided the postal carrier’s vehicle as it was traveling southbound on Douglas Street, Rich said.

The intersection was closed to traffic at about 6 p.m. as the investigation continued.

*Update: KTLA reports the postal carrier suffered head injuries and a possible fractured or dislocated hip.

I'm falling in love with everyone in this video. Help.

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What is this? You ask. Are these mutants? Or deformed Real Dolls (tm)? Or what happened in Eyes Without A Face? The truth is a little less exciting: these terrifying images are of dentist practice models.

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Jaywalking tickets are one of those dumb, embarrassing things about Los Angeles that non-Angelenos love to laugh at us about, and oh man they are so right on this one. Why does the LAPD put so much effort into catching supposed jaywalkers? And we do mean supposed: "you don't need to be crossing against a red light to receive a citation — simply stepping off the curb while the countdown clock ticks could result in a ticket," according to the Downtown News, which reports that the LAPD is specifically cracking down in the Historic Core and the Financial District for the holiday season. And so just stepping off the curb during the countdown--while it is still technically legal to be in the crosswalk--can earn you a ticket ranging from $190 to $250. Obviously walkers should always cross as safely as possible, but an LAPD lieutenant says "We're heavily enforcing pedestrian violations because they're impeding traffic and causing too many accidents and deaths." Meaning the LAPD blames pedestrians for creating both car traffic and car accidents, and will charge people $200 a pop to try to make them stop creating those things. Somehow the 31,326 jaywalking citations issued in the Central Bureau this year didn't prevent four pedestrian deaths and 129 vehicle-pedestrian accidents in Downtown.
· Police Crackdown on Jaywalking Means Tickets of Up to $250 [Downtown News]

Photos by Elizabeth Daniels

It's evident from the imagery adorning the walls that Barkowski is a watering hole which pays tribute to legendary author and legendary drunk, Charles Bukowski. Partners Richard Miller and John Moritz have wanted to open a bar together for the last 15 years, and their dream comes true when Barkowski parts doors for the public on Friday, December 13.

On Saturday night they welcomed in friends and family for a test run, and over the next few days they'll add the bar's finishing touches. Miller describes Barkowski as "a 60s dive bar with a little class and without the filth," also evident in the mixed lots of beers on offer via can, draft, and bottle from Coors Light to Allagash White to Bison Organic Gingerbread Ale. The beers don't get too crazy, all the usual stuff is on there with a few smaller batch and local brews mixed in, priced between $4 to $8. Note tvs and a pool table, and to soak up the booze, White Castle burgers, nuked for $5.
· EaterWire: Barkowski in Santa Monica [~ELA~]

Holy shit, something's wrong with the teens. The teens have gone mad. After Kiwi chanteuse Lorde apparently said (to someone, somewhere—I literally can't find any sources on it besides teens on Twitter) that Justin Bieber and the members of One Direction are "ugly," wounded superfans began firing back with a barrage of potshots at James Lowe, Lorde's rumored boyfriend. In the way that the overemotional rantings of the ignorant so often do, the attacks turned racist almost immediately.

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There's a new sneak peek promo for the sixth season of RuPaul's Drag Race, which begins airing on LOGO in February. If you can see beyond the makeup and wigs (you can't), one of the contestants may look familiar — he was on American Idol in 2008.

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Wiglocks. Dreadwig.

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The man who amputated his own arm and wrote a book about it which led to a movie starring James Franco was arrested over the weekend and charged with domestic violence and "wrongs against minors." So, it sounds like he hit an adult and did something to a kid that fell short of violence. Aron was arrested in Denver over the weekend but they don't bail people out until Monday so Aron will be in court this morning to presumably get bail and enter some type of plea. Hopefully the wrongs against minor will also be explained in more detail at the time.

You would think a guy who could keep his cool to amputate his own arm would not be a guy you would see in a mugshot for domestic violence.

April 9, 2008

I figure since I am always rightfully bashing Scientology, I thought I would share something about the "religion" of another actor. This late 20 something A-/B+ film actor has a little secret that belies his primarily clean cut image. He is a devout follower of Anton LaVey. He has a first edition Satanic Bible which was personally signed by LaVey. Our actor also has the number 9 tattooed on himself to signify the nine rituals of the Satanic Church. He even went so far as to purchase some land where he and other followers use to practice many of these rituals.

James Franco

Umm, I guess she's back?

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January 7, 2008

#2 This celebutante is seriously considering a contract where she would marry or at the very least get engaged to this famous daddy celebudude. (Not Kevin Federline)

Paris Hilton/Larry Birkhead

For those times when you're flung unexpectedly back in time—or if you just don't want to change clothes between work and your favorite holonovel—cosplayer Genovefa has dreamed up these Starfleet-themed dresses with long skirts and a bit of Victorian-inspired corsetry.

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[Poem via jamesfrancotv; Franco by Elizabeth Daniels]

Actor/artist/writer/director/grad student/neighbor-annoyer James Franco writes poems: "if that bothers you, Don't read 'em," he says. Here's a poem he wrote called "Los Angeles Proverb" that was published recently in The American Poetry Review and posted today to his Instagram (you probably haven't heard about this because he also recently posted a photo of someone wearing a Batman mask with semen on it). It's not very good. And here's a movie-industry-themed poem Franco also published recently in the APR.

· James Franco Archives [Curbed LA]

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

I'm generally a purist when it comes to food—I'll take my burgers with onions and pickles and my cookies with chocolate chips, thank you—but I make exceptions now and then, especially when they involve Brussels sprouts, easily my favorite fall vegetable.

On the menu today: Brussels sprout grilled cheese sandwiches. And ok, we'll go ahead and add some caramelized onions in there as well, because it's cold outside and nothing makes me feel cozy like an apartment filled with the smell caramelized onions.

To get the brussels sprouts sandwich-ready, I first finely shred them so that they meld into the cheese and onions. I use a knife, but a mandolin or the grating disk on a food processor will work as well.

To get 'em nice and sweet while still retaining some crunch, I cook them over crazy high heat in a bit of olive oil for just a few moments until they're charred in spots.

If you're the type of person who keeps caramelized onions in their freezer at all times (you know who you are), you can go ahead and use those, or just proceed with whatever technique you normally use to caramelize onions, including my cheaty 15-minute version. But if you don't want to use that method, a quick light caramelization in a moderately hot skillet will work just fine. The sprouts bring plenty of sweetness to the table, so you don't need to go with the candy-sweet low and slow approach here.

For the cheese, I used a sharp Vermont cheddar (specifically, the awesome three-year-aged cheddar from Grafton Village Cheese, which has a great balance of sharp bite and meltability), though a Comté or an aged Gruyère would be great as well, evoking more of a French onion soup aroma.

I'm perfectly happy with American cheese on white bread (It's the type of sandwich I make most often), but sometimes fancy pants cheese and fillings call for fancy pants bread. I used some slices of a French boule that Ed brought back from Pain D'Avignon in Hyannis, MA. It's good stuff.

You know where you do want to go low and slow? When it comes to actually cooking the sandwiches. The longer it takes for those sandwiches to crisp up in butter, the more evenly they'll brown, the better crunch they'll get, and the meltier the innards will be.

Pressing down on the 'wiches with a pan as they cook will also help them acquire a more even, crisp crust. It should take at least 8 minutes to properly cook a grilled cheese sandwich, though longer is not unheard of.

(Though to be honest, it looks like I might have cooked this one a little bit too fast. See how the center is darker than the rest? Oops.)

I really love the way the charred Brussels sprouts work with the buttery crust and sweet onions in this sandwich. Even my wife wolfed hers down without complaining about the dogs smelling like onions (as she usually does when I caramelize onions at home). Looks like this one's going to stay on the menu here for a while.

About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.

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Uptalk is that linguistic tic originating in Southern California where statements sound like questions? and Southern Californians still love it more than pretty much any other speakers. But the oldsters often find it confusing: are you asking me a question?? they Andy Rooney. So, in "one of the first rigorous linguistic studies of the Southern Californian variety of English," UCSD grad student/Temecula native Amanda Ritchart looked at the way Southern Californians use uptalk. She and her adviser recorded native SoCal speakers giving directions and recounting a sitcom scene and found that "when the speakers were asking a question, their increase in pitch was more pronounced and would begin earlier in the sentence," according to the Washington Post. Speakers would always uptalk when asking a question, but only uptalked 16 percent of the time when they were making a simple statement (and 45 percent when "floor-holding," or pausing while indicating they were going to keep speaking). They also found that women uptalk "significantly more" than men, have "significantly larger rises" than men, and start their rises "significantly later on in the utterance than male speakers." In other words: men sound more sure of themselves. Uh, duh!

Meanwhile, over at linguistics blog Language Log, Mark Liberman has been writing for a while now on a suspicion he has that Valley Girl uptalk "might in fact have originated with the characteristically rising intonational patterns of northern England, Scotland, and Ireland, by way of the Scots-Irish immigrants who migrated to California in the 1930s Dust Bowl exodus." Last month he shared several audio examples of SoCal's most iconic Okie, Woody Guthrie, uptalking during an interview with folklorist Alan Lomax.
· Do We All Speak Like Valley Girls? Uptalk in Southern Californian English [Acoustics.org]

You know I am a sucker for a great kindness item from a celebrity. I love when a celebrity does something for someone else and not to get publicity for themselves. A great example is what Paul Walker did for a couple way back in 2004. He bought their engagement ring and the couple didn't know until this week when the manager of the store finally let the secret out. Apparently back then the couple were shopping for engagement rings and couldn't afford the one they wanted and walked out with nothing. During their time in the shop Paul walker was in there and spoke to the man and found out he was in the military and had returned from Iraq. After the couple left Paul bought the $10K engagement ring and the couple was brought in to receive it but were never told who bought it until now when the manager decided it would be ok to reveal.

How can you not love a guy who did that and so many other acts of kindness in his life.

Pitfire Pizza on Fairfax rolled out a new full bar in October, and as of two weeks ago the team has added one very special new alcoholic beverage with a side of lunch. Confused? It just might be the ultimate hangover helper and is only served on Sundays. Slice on the Beach ($10) calls for tequila, mezcal, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, aged balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, agave syrup, garlic puree, pepper, salt, tomato juice, red bell pepper, arugula, basil, and is garnished with cherry tomatoes, a smoked olive, mozzarella cheese, and a slice of pizza. [EaterWire]

What do the canyons have in common with South LA? They're both terrible places to live if you're too exhausted or drunk or bad at cooking to cook. We know this because rental ranking site Rentenna, newly launched in LA, has put together a heatmap for its Food Delivery Score ("an analysis of the addresses with the best access to the most food delivery options"; you can look up a score for any individual address too). As you can see, central citizens and Westsiders are living in a truly decadent time and place. The full map is below, but here are the top seven LA neighborhoods for food delivery:

1. Fairfax
2. Century City
3. West Hollywood
4. North Hollywood
5. Hancock Park
6. Larchmont
7. Beverly Hills

· The Los Angeles Food Delivery Heatmap: Where to Live in LA If You Live to Order In [Rentenna]

[ Photographs: Joshua Bousel ]

About the author: Joshua Bousel brings you new, tasty condiment every other Wednesday and a recipe for weekend grilling every other Friday. He also writes about grilling and barbecue on his blog The Meatwave whenever he can be pulled away from his grill.

Every recipe we publish is tested, tasted, and Serious Eats-approved by our staff. Never miss a recipe again by following @SeriousRecipes on Twitter!

Ingredients

serves Makes about 1 cup, active time 3 minutes, total time 1 hour

• 1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk

Procedures

1. Preheat oven to 425°F. Pour sweetened condensed milk into a small glass baking dish or pie plate and cover with aluminum foil. Place dish in a larger baking dish and pour in hot water until it reaches halfway up the side of the smaller dish. Transfer to oven and cook until condensed milk has become deep golden brown, about 1 hour. Remove from oven and whisk dulce de leche while still hot. Let cool slightly and then use while still warm or transfer to an airtight container and store in the refrigerator for up to a month.

"It's special to see yourself like this." That's what one woman says when a mannequin resembling herself is unveiled.

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