Knee Deep in the Rivers of Rage

It's a heat wave. And yesterday I set off for an ill-advised round of errands in 96 degree torment.

All was not lost, however, for I got to see this:




Shorts, a crappy threadbare shirt and sweltering formless beige leather boots. What the hell kind of boots are they, anyways?

All that's left for the bold is a future of ice and steel.

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Per the recommendation of our very expensive consultant, we at Rivers Of Rage, Inc. have decided that it is in the best interests of our Board, our shareholders, and our recently outsourced workers, to cease updates from The Million Dollar Website and give those foolish, starry-eyed wimps their own BLOG.

The amazing new film "Valhalla Rising" begins with the line "in the beginning there was only man and nature." Or something like that.

You could make the argument that for cowboys back in the old west, it was the same deal. But not quite.

Why not? Because I don't think anything-not even this well designed mug or the resourcefulness and perseverance of cowboys-comes close to brutal majesty of that masterpiece of film.

All hail.


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Location:Midgard

See that date? 1937. This is one old mug. Or is it? How much has changed? Millions of Americans out of work, a president struggling to boost the economy while reining in greed and corruption, cries of "socialism" terrifying a vocal few. And, lurking in the shadows, the threat of a war that could in an instant engulf the planet.
Have a merry day.


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It's a fact.

The BSA understood the power of symbols. Who wouldn't want to be associated with that bull? Who wouldn't embrace the motto "siempre adelante?" It means "always advancing" and that's how we do it here.
For the Rivers of Rage never cease as they surge across the plains of complacency and woe. And we here at HQ remain faithfully yours, and up to our knees.




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For those of you who dig fine art, our friends at The Million Dollar Website gave us a sneak peek of their latest masterpiece.
Personally, I don't get it. I am but a simpleton, and I only like landscapes. Landscapes of my soul...




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With new technology comes new inspiration.

(823 Clay St., Between Grant & Stockton) (Tel: 398-6883)
After avoiding Chinatown for a long, long time I am now ready to return. Accompanying me were two former co-workers: Michael and Paige.
We didn't know where we would eat. We only knew it would be here.


This is what Chef Hung looks like:
Handsome, no? Paige thought so. So much so, in fact, that she didn't even mind when Michael (not "Mike," mind you) fancifully suggested we order the "clay pot."

Paige, Michael and I discussed children, our former place of employment, our current salaries, our Social Security Numbers, and PINs—all of which have been published here, for any interested Phishers.

The food was surprisingly good. Fresh, not greasy. It seemed to be a local's hangout which is generally a good sign.

I wish I could be a local somewhere. Alas, I am not. Not even in the neighborhood of my psyche.

Jay, Ted and I went here in May, 2007. It's called the Oriental Pearl. It's located at 760 Clay St., between Grant & Kearny. *** (out of 5)
The restaurant was clean and sobering, the interior a dance of light and temperance.

We ate food, we drank tea, we spoke of whaling, gunnery, and hope.


Then we ate the centerpiece.


What was left of our minds? Nothing.
The soup stared. Waiting to speak, but never finding the courage. What a sad, pathetic course.

The aptly named Chinatown Restaurant is located at 744 Washingthon St., between Grant & Kearny. *** (out of 5)

It was February 20th. I was very distracted. I was with JOHAN. TED was there, too. This was many months ago. But, there was APPLE. A very patriotic apple.
There were many RULES at this restaurant. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant with so many unreasonable rules? Me neither. It made me ANGRY!I despise weakness, in myself more than others.

Good thing the restaurant was so well decorated. That mollified me to the point of complaceny. The tea was hot, the food was made out of plant and animal matter, and Johan is from Sweden.


Hoppsan!

On Clay, just above Grant. ***** (out of 5)
This place is kind of famous. It's the "insider's choice" for locals in Chinatown. Not just Chinatown locals, mind you.
I was joined by former co-worker C. Gomez. We walked up the stairs past the kitchen. It's a very narrow space and there are two or three floors with tables. Behind C. Gomez you'll see the windows. They let in light and a whole lot of air.
We started off with the combination won ton soup - which was delicious. The broth tasted like raw onion steeped in warm water - but in a good way. C. Gomez and I discussed kids. She and her family just moved back to the Bay Area from Texas, where they built a house out of prairie sod, roped longhorns and voted republican (I assume).
I noticed that the rice bowl had a charming chip on its rim. Let's see P.F. Chang's put chips on their rice bowls. This is authentic Chinatown character. Soon the world will be destroyed by robots. Robots with dings and imeperfections and they will all be as soulful and "authentic" as Sam Wo. It will be "Chinatown Planet" (I assume).

Here's a picture of I, your author, as I thought these thoughts. Savor my prescience.

Finally. I found someone to go to "Sabra" with me. It was Todd, and he brought his friend Dave. It's located on Grant at the corner of Bush, just up from the Chinatown gate. **** (out of 5)

We climbed the long staircase up to Chinatown's only Glatt Kosher dining experience.

At the landing there's a bulletin board where you can leave messages for other travelers. Many of the flyers are in Hebrew.

The interior pays homage to traditional Chinatown restaurant decor with its crisp white walls and ceilings. The furniture is also nice. The walls are decorated with drawings of rabbis, paintings of Moses and old tourist posters of Israel. The stuff in the last sentence is not typical of other Chinatown restaurants.

We ordered the hummus plate appetizer which came with pita bread and pickles. Delicious. Our entrees came with salads, ingeniously made of iceberg lettuce, cabbage and diced tomatoes. The three of us ordered the exact same entree. I can't tell you what it was. It's not that I don't know what it was (it was chicken and rice) it's just that I want to pretend that I'm somehow not allowed to tell you what it was. Dig?

Is it "Uncle Restaurant" just like "Uncle Sam?" Is it a restaurant at all, or is it a cafe? If so, is it "Uncle's Cafe?"
The answer certainly promised to be delicious! **** (out of 5)

I was joined by the "2XPK" ("2 X-treme Power Krew") for another waltz through Chinatown.
FACT: All members of the 2XPK have college degrees.
FACT: Even without shades, they never let you see both eyes (unless next to fish).
FACT: They only wear black.



The decor was modest. They offered "Crab Meat and Fish Stomach Chowder." It appeared to be an authentic place, full of locals, without any tourists.



Here's your author posing by Uncle's Aquarium with J-Lev. The food was adequate, but not the company. I don't know about the 2XPK. They didn't sing or dance. Maybe they're a motorcycle stunt team, and not a band. Or maybe they just decided to give themselves a cool name. They're awful people. Dull, rude and pretentious. Still, I wish I could be one of them. I wish I could join 2XPK.

779 Clay St. (between Grant and Kearny)



Capt. Bluey of the Army Reserve joined me for lunch. We marched through Chinatown in search of that perfect place, and we found A-1.
We admired the dense typography of the sign and praised the wisdom of choosing a name that says "phone book" first and "delicious food" second.



Then we sat down to a sumptuous meal, which included a small dish of blood...


...and a delicious talon.



I especially liked that talon, as did Capt. Bluey. Talons are found on birds of prey, who strike from above with silent fury. Birds are cold, calculating animals with keen eyesight. While this talon surely came from a chicken, we spent the rest of our meal discussing the humble chicken's aggressive cousins in the sky.