Synthesis Weekly – November 17, 2014

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Volume 21 Issue 13 November 17, 2014

For 20 years The Synthesis’ goal has remained to provide a forum for entertainment, music, humor, community awareness, opinions, and change.

Amy Sandoval amy@synthesis.net

Creative Director

Columns

This Week...

Publisher/Managing Editor

36 Crazyfists

PAGE 8

Tanner Ulsh graphics@synthesis.net

Letter From the Editor

by Amy Olson

amy@synthesis.net

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Entertainment Editor Arielle Mullen arielle@synthesis.net SynthesisWeekly.com/submit-yourevent/

Letters to Desmond

by Zooey Mae

zooeymae@synthesis.net

Associate Editor Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff emilianogs@gmail.com

Exotic Adventures in Smalltown, USA

Designers

Liz Watters, Mike Valdez graphics@synthesis.net

by Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff

PAGE 6

Deliveries Jennifer Foti

Immaculate Infection

Contributing Writers

by Bob Howard

Zooey Mae, Bob Howard, Howl, Koz McKev, Tommy Diestel, Eli Schwartz, Mona Treme, Emiliano GarciaSarnoff, Jon Williams, Sean Galloway Alex O’Brien

Madbob@madbob.com

by Eli Schwartz

Jessica Sid Vincent Latham

pwasted@synthesis.net

Nerd

Dain Sandoval dain@synthesis.net Ben Kirby

Director of Operations Bill Fishkin bill@synthesis.net

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Consider the Platypus

Mad Sweet Fly Pumas Part 2

PAGE 16

by Mona Treme

PAGE 19

Karen Potter

Owner

PAGE 10

Productivity Wasted

Photography

Accounting

PAGE 5

Supertime!

by Logan Kruidenier logankruidenier.tumblr.com

The Synthesis is both owned and published

by Apartment 8 Productions. All things published in these pages are the property of Apartment 8 Productions and may not be reproduced, copied or used in any other way, shape or form without the written consent of Apartment 8 Productions. One copy (maybe two) of the Synthesis is available free to residents in Butte, Tehama and Shasta counties. Anyone caught removing papers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All opinions expressed throughout the Synthesis are those of the author and are not necessarily the same opinions as Apartment 8 Productions and the Synthesis.

The Synthesis welcomes, wants, and will even desperately beg for letters because we care what you think. We can be reached via snail mail at the Synthesis, 210 W. 6th St., Chico, California, 95928. Email letters@ synthesis.net. Please sign all of your letters with your real name, address and preferably a phone number. We may also edit your submission for content and space.

PAGE 20

Kozmik Debris

by Koz McKev

kozmckev@sunset.net

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From The Edge

by Anthony Peyton Porter

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210 West 6th Street Chico Ca 95928 530.899.7708 editorial@synthesis.net

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 3

PET OF THE WEEK

Tweed, Logs, and Typey-Typey De vin Devin is a beautiful, playful, and loving kitty who is ready to go to her furever home! Devin gets along with other kitties and would love to be in a home with lots of toys and love

2580 Fair Street Chico, CA 95928 (530) 343-7917 • buttehumane.org

Now Hear This SYNTHESIS WEEKLY PLAYLIST Open Mike Eagle

Bill Wu-Tang Clan - “Ron O’Neal” Tanner Open Mike Eagle - “Dark Comedy Late Show” Liz phosphorescent - “Song for Zula” Also Liz Lorde - “Flicker” Tara Yael Naim - “Toxic” Dinah Deer Tick - “These Old Shoes” Becca RL Grime - “Tell Me” Alie Ray Charles - “Georgia On My Mind” Andrea Queens of the Stone Age - “Everybody Knows That You’re Insane” 4

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

Beginning at around 10:30am this Sunday, the 23rd, you’ll see a woolen mob assembling in the downtown plaza. Many of you will recognize it immediately from the in-depth feature we ran last year exploring both the history and the experience of the event (or, you know, from previous years). But some of you will feel scared and alone, left out even.

Don’t fret though, little ducks—there’s still time to read up, and get involved if you so desire.

Now, I’m sure you’d rather hear all about how magical my wedding was and hear me drone on and on about how much I love that man I married, but, dare I say, not everything is about me. The Tweed Ride, organized

by George Knox, Craig Almaguer, and Dax Downey (pictured), is one of the loveliest events of the year and I want you all to go.

Unless you don’t like fun, in which case you should take the time to reevaluate your priorities.

The bare bones of the Tweed Ride are dressing up like an old-timey Brit and riding through Bidwell Park to Five Mile, having a nice picnic, then popping over to the brewery for a pint.

You’re a free spirited sort, and you’re probably thinking, “Hey, I can do that any day.” And you’re right, you can (and should—I dare you).

But you know what doesn’t happen every day? Hundreds of people joining you, making you feel like you’re a part of something, like you exist outside of time, feeling alive and inspired and special. Also, afterward you can roll down to Christmas Preview. You like cookies and stuff, right? Well, people will give you cookies and tell you they like your outfit. It’s awesome. Check out Chico Tweed Ride on facebook to get the link to the event page, pore through the gallery for clothing

inspirations, and receive any updates for this and future rides.

Speaking of Christmas Preview, I have some bad news. Are you sitting? Good. I think there’s a chair a little lower to the ground over there though—yeah, the tiny chair—maybe go sit on that. OK, ready? As we all know, the greatest Christmas band in the history of Christmas is the Yule Logs. For the past ten years they have been donning gay apparel and filling our hearts with childlike joy and wonder, starting with the Christmas Preview, then at shows ranging from the family-friendly to the familyfilthy all over the North State. (Deep breaths.)

Recently, beloved drummer and all-around amazing guy/dirtbag Jake Sprecher has developed some potentially serious repetitive stress injuries in his arms, and will be shifting to a front of band position. On the bright side they’ll be bringing in the very talented Alex Coffin on drums, but because they need the rehearsal time to settle into the new lineup, Christmas Preview will be (sniff) Log-less. I guess I built that up a little too much.

On a final note, I’d like to thank the people who sent us their fiction samples last week.

The early submissions have been great, and we want to see more! If you haven’t gotten around to it yet, do some typey-typey and send us 500 words. We’re also (always) interested in having more music writers—if you or anyone you know is passionate about music and want to proclaim your love publicly (or if you just think we should cover a wider variety of shows), hit me up. Send all writing samples to editorial@synthesis.net.

Letter From the Editor

by Amy Sandoval amy@synthesis.net

Not The Hero Chico Wanted… But The One We Deserved Last week I was so caught up in my “I Voted” sticker ordeal (see also: not an ordeal at all, I’m just easily distracted), that the thing I had planned on discussing flew right out my brain window. I refer of course to Chico’s favorite holiday to hate, the thing everyone spends weeks lamenting and planning for, then it flies right by: Halloween. (In hindsight, the aforementioned description could conceivably describe all holidays. Except Easter. Depending on how “OK” you are with seeing your father dressed as a bunny rabbit, because in some cases that shit will stick with you.)

So. Halloween. I learned a few valuable lessons on Halloween. One: if you choose to dress as the fat landlord from The Big Lebowski during his one-man play, everyone will think you are either supposed to be Eve or Poison Ivy. By the way, if you’re making a Poison Ivy costume out of a nude onesie and ivy leaves, I’m not sure whether to applaud you or refer you to a healthy dose of Joel Schumacher. Two: if you pass on the full nude onesie and instead wear a nude leotard with two pairs of thick-as-hell nude tights from Rite Aid, your legs will definitely lose feeling after about an hour. Note: I lasted about 2 hours in this nude-nightmare contraption of my own making.

heard that a time capsule was recently discovered at Bidwell Mansion. This is really exciting, especially because of the endless myriad of things that could be in there. My initial thought upon hearing the news of the capsule was to recall how my favorite cousin Sarah once told me about how she once farted in a mason jar for a month, then sent it to her friend who lived across the country. My second thought was to imagine what John and Annie Bidwell’s farts might have smelled like. A stately smell, I’m sure. If this were a Michael Bay film, the capsule would probably contain a deadly airborne illness (weaponized by aliens wanting to take over the world, naturally) that would wipe out the crowd before one man rose above the rest to defeat the aliens, but not before blowing up the Bidwell Mansion and taking off in the diamond atop the the Senator (which was actually a spaceship), to fight the aliens.

Come to think of it, if this were a Joel Schumacher film, the capsule would be the size of a tomb. Annie and John Bidwell would come dancing out in a puff of smoke, each wearing impossibly sparkly catsuits and high-stepping like puzzling amalgamations of Jim Carrey’s rendition of the Grinch and The Riddler. John Bidwell’s catsuit would have giant pointy nipples. Obviously. Hmm…. I think I’m onto something here. Just a sec, I have to call Schumacher and Bay and tell them I have a wheelbarrow full of coke and a trillion dollar idea: John Bidwell: Freedom Dick Puncher.

Note: In doing research for this column I discovered some excellent news (Bad Boys III is rumored to be in pre-production), and terrible news (Transformers 5 is definitely in pre-production).

Letters to Desmond

by Zooey Mae

zooeymae@synthesis.net

In other news, I’m sure by now you’ve all FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 5

Techno Lovesong IS THERE ANY SUCH THING AS “UNDERGROUND” ANYMORE? This week, the second part of a piece of fiction I wrote, set in the early ‘90s rave scene, runs here in the Synthesis. The pictures in the story are from parties I was at (and that’s me at probably 17-years-old, on the right in the picture above). I started going to these illegal all-night parties when I was fourteen, in 1992, and for three years they were all my friends and I lived for. When I meet fourteen-year-olds now, this fact shocks me. We were children.

Coincidentally, on Saturday, I went to the first “rave” I’ve been to since those days. It wasn’t a rave, per say, actually, but was in fact a Bassnectar show in San Francisco. A few notes, then, on how things have changed.

First off, the music now is fucking amazing.

Like many ex-ravers, I sort of burnt myself out on straight techno. Drum and Bass, Trance, Hardcore Techno, House: been there done that one too many times. I’ve got nostalgic love for ya, but that’s about it. On the other hand, I love bands that are deeply influenced by electronic music, like Radiohead, CocoRosie, LCD Soundsystem, Sylvan Esso, Kanye, and so on.

For a long time, whenever I’d check back in to see what was happening in the electronic dance music scene, I’d be disappointed.

It didn’t really seem to have evolved or it seemed actively shitty and uninventive; endless years of bad dubstep for instance.

But what Bassnectar and his peers are doing is qualitatively different than what we were listening to back in the ‘90s. Where our bass was still something conceptually tied to drums—it was deep but it still “hit” you—the bass that you experience at a Bassnectar 6

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM

NOVEMBER 17 2014

show is like some sort of weapon of the future: previously technologically-impossible ultralow-frequency wobbly maximalist tsunamis of bass that just keep coming and coming, crashing over you like you’re a Japanese coastline, overwhelming you, but which still drop in in that trap-music, hip-hop-headbanging, stink-face make-you-say-“uhhhhh” kinda way. It’s the telos of bass. It has to be.

Otherwise you really would get “turned up to death.”

on our Walkmen? I would go to a break-in, all-night warehouse party with music from the future on Saturday, and on Monday I’d sit in class next to kids that didn’t even know raving existed. Our style, our dances, our music, our lingo, our drugs—they were just that: ours.

It’s hard to describe to a young person today what that “undergroundness” or “ours-ness” meant to us back then, but I’ll tell you, it meant a lot. These were borders we guarded like our (social) lives depended on it.

The second difference is how much better everyone looks now. We thought we looked great. But, looking back, we were just objectively wrong. We were skinny and pimply faced and wore some of the most unsexy, straight-up-stupid-looking clothes imaginable. Today’s average “raver” looks like an underwear model. And by underwear model, I mean underwear model at work.

Pretty much half the girls there were just wearing bras and panties. The other half were wearing bras and butt-cleavage shorts. The dudes are all yoked-out Abercrombie-looking bros in tank-tops; the sort of “normal” that was the antithesis of everything we were about back then.

I talk about this a little in part one of the short story (see last week’s issue online), but the rave scene was probably the last underground subculture that will ever exist. Because it was the last fully fleshed-out subculture to emerge before smartphones and social media, which are underground-annihilators. Today, people can mix and incorporate things at unprecedented speeds and the good music that’s out there is really, really good. Culture is fluid and opensource and unifying in really positive ways. But it’s impossible for a subculture to incubate before it’s everybody’s.

That’s just the way it is.

Which is the real difference between then and now. Undergroundness. And I’m not talking about just in techno (now called EDM), which has obviously exploded in popularity in the past five or six years. I’m talking about in everything. The loss of “Undergroundness”— for better or for worse—is probably the single biggest change to happen to youth culture since the advent of social media, and it’s so rarely talked about. For the first couple years I was going to raves, most people in America didn’t know what techno even sounded like.

How would they unless we played it for them

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that because it’s “everybody’s” it’s actually “nobody’s.” The kids at this Bassnectar show were pumped-up fans, and they were rocking it. They knew how to party for sure. But—at the risk of my voice sounding creaky in a “back when I was a boy” kind of way—there was a magic in children making up secret worlds that only we inhabited. To me, that was the magic of my youth.

Exotic Adventures in Smalltown, USA

by Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff

PHOTOS BY JESSICA SID

On The Town

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 7

36 Crazyfists, Skinlab, All Hail the Yeti, Incite, Armed for the Apocalypse, Blood Cabana, Gigantes Sunday, November 23rd, 6:00 pm, Lost on Main

By Bob Howard

Here’s the weather report: There is a massive superstorm of metal heading this way—it will be pummeling Chico on Sunday, November 23rd in Lost on Main.

The tour is called “Twenty Years in the Trenches” and it features seven of the hardest hitting, sludgiest, grooving, head-banging, bloodletting, badass metal bands from the west.

Now, I don’t pretend to be an expert on all things metal—so for this preview I called up an old friend of mine, Charles “Chuck Yeah!”

Chatsworth. Chuck and I met more than two decades ago down in San Diego. I was in college and he was a longshoreman, collecting unemployment and traveling from one great surf break to another. I dropped in on him on a pitching overhead left at Black’s Beach—I swear I didn’t see him—and after he emerged from the soup, spitting and coughing, he tried to punch my lights out. Chuck is a big dude— muscle-bound, tattooed (back when that was a rarer feature than it is today) and sporting the biggest mullet I’d ever seen. I begged him not to kill me and finally offered to buy him drinks. Eventually we realized we shared a mutual love of metal music. That night we went to see a Genitorturers show at the Brickworks, drank until our eyes popped, and have been friends ever 8

since. I still love metal, but over time I’ve found myself distanced from the scene. Chuck never left it.

Chuck has forgotten more about heavy metal than most of us will ever know.

I sat down with Chuck to talk about this upcoming metal-fest at Lost, but first we reminisced about some old times.

Tell me about your heavy metal upbringing.

CY!: I’m an old-school metal-head.

I grew up in the Bay Area during the 1980s and the metal scene was out of control. Exodus was huge, Metallica was blowing up, girls at my junior high school were singing “Whiplash.” One derelict kid came to school with his eyes blackened after getting his ass kicked at an early Crue show. Alex Skolnick taught lessons at our local music store and before he joined Testament his metal cover band played our junior high school dances. I can’t remember their name but they had this skinny hot chick lead singer who would give you the evil eye symbol while screaming the chorus to Judas Priest’s “Electric Eye.” She was wicked. It was crazy. It was all metal, all the time. I was trampled at an AC/DC show at the Cow Palace sometime in the late ‘80s. I lost my

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

virginity in the parking lot at Day on the Green 1987—Motley Crue on the Girls, Girls, Girls tour. White Snake, Poison, and JetBoy filled out the bill. I once hit Bruce Dickinson (Iron Maiden’s lead singer) square in the face with a sneaker and he stopped the fucking show! If anyone knew it was me I would have been dead, but I ducked behind a big dyke and no one ever suspected her.

Anthrax, Maiden, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen Motorhead. I caught Black Sabbath’s real reunion show—the first time the original foursome played together since Live Aid in ‘85. That was an awesome show, 1992 in Costa Mesa. This was Ozzy’s “No More Tours” tour—his first “retirement” show. Sepultura, from Brazil, opened the show and killed, then Rob Halford sang with Iommi’s Sabbath because Ronnie James Dio refused to do it and quit the band the night before the tour.

Ozzie did his set and the original Sabbath line-up got together and did four songs. I have never seen more headbangers rocking in unison than when the band broke into the galloping section of “Black Sabbath.”

Now that Chuck’s credentials are firmly established, without further ado I present to you Chuck Yeah!’s take on the “Twenty Years in the Trenches” show.

CY!: This is a badass show my friend.

Seriously killer line-up. I mean, top to bottom, this show is going to kick some serious ass.

First you got the headliners: 36 Crazyfists. These guys are crazy.

They formed in Anchorage, Alaska, back in 1994. It’s a sad story bro.

I mean, the 36 Crazyfists are members of a few different bands from that time, Grin, Hessian, and Broke. The story I heard is that the drummer from Broke, a kid named Duane Monsen got into a beef with some jarhead and ended up getting murdered. When members of the three bands got together to play at a memorial show for Monsen the sound was killer and they ended up forming 36 Crazyfists. It’s a fucking tragedy, but I can’t think of a better way to honor your fallen brother than by grinding out some killer music.

I think the band’s down in Portland now, probably seems fucking balmy compared to Anchorage. Their music is hard and melodic, utilizing the dynamic approach of sparse, plucked instrumentation and then segueing into heavy, driving sections. As far as metal goes, Brock Lindow’s vocals are refreshingly clear, he isn’t afraid to deliver a melody. The guy is a true singer, blessed with the ability to scream when he needs to.

Check out the band’s video “Bloodwork,” it’s off of Snowcapped Romance, (2009) and in true metal fashion the video features the band members thick in the action of their own kung-fu movie.

My notes say they took their name from a Jackie Chan movie called “Jackie Chan...

CY!: ...And the 36 Crazyfists.” Yeah.

They put out their first album back in 1994—hence 20 years in the trenches for all you liberal arts majors—an EP called Boss Buckle.

Since then they’ve released a bunch of killer albums...

Six, according to my notes.

1997—In the Skin, 2002—Bitterness the Star, 2004—A Snowcapped Romance, 2006—Rest Inside the Flames, 2008—The Tide and Its Takers, and their 2010 release— Collisions and Castaways.

CY!: Yeah, well they’re all fucking killer.

It looks like they’re slated to release their seventh album, Time and Trauma, sometime next year.

So who’s next?

CY!: Skinlab...

[I watch, in slight horror, as Chuck licks his lips and his eyes roll back

SO ... GROOVY: DARK, CREEPY, LOOMING RIFFS—DRONING, CATERWAULING SOLOS

THEIR MUSIC IS HARD AND MELODIC, UTILIZING THE DYNAMIC APPROACH OF SPARSE, PLUCKED INSTRUMENTATION AND THEN SEGUEING INTO HEAVY, DRIVING SECTIONS.

into his head. He tips his head back, shapes his fists into devils’ horns, and then lurches forward in his chair. His hands fall to his knees and his long hair touches the floor in front of him. Then he looks up and leers at me.]

So fucking groovy: dark, creepy, looming riffs—droning, caterwauling solos. These guys formed around the same time as 36 Crazyfists—1994, and they’ve been at it ever since. They’re out of San Francisco. They’re riffs are chunky and they can bring the music from a slow, grinding creep up to a wailing crescendo. Steev Esquivel (bass and vocals) is a fucking witch.

Freaky motherfuckers—if you were on psychedelics for these guys you might end up in an asylum, but you might also get to meet God... or Satan.

Seriously. I listened to “Scapegoat” while I was researching this piece and almost lost my mind. It looks like their last release was in 2009—an album called The Scars Between Us. CY!: Good shit.

All Hail the Yeti—Southern Metal out of Los Angeles, formed in 2006...

CY!: Fuck yeah. I mean, if I were being tortured and they were only going to let me see one of these acts, which thankfully they’re not, for me All Hail the Yeti would be it. Driving, pulsating music. The band can switch effortlessly from a stomping, thrash tempo, to a more crawling, sludgier style. “The Art of Mourning” is a sweet little homage to Black Sabbath. Look, every goddamned metal band that has ever existed is beholden to Sabbath, whether they realize it or not. All Hail the Yeti isn’t afraid to show it, loud and proud. Listen to the song, it features Wizard-esque harmonica and Ozzy-esque vocals chiming in on the chorus. It’s just enough to pay tribute, as opposed to parroting.

It works, it’s beautiful, grinding, and melodic. The video is fucking sick too. It’s set in the old west— fisticuffs, hanging, kidnapping, dirty fucking people. It’s a revenge plot that cranks up into a lots of blood and splattered brains.

Incite—Hailing from Phoenix, Arizona, Incite got together in 2004. The groove/thrash metal band has released an EP and two full-length albums and are currently signed with “minus HEAD” Records. Their latest effort, Up in Hell, came out earlier this year. Super-intense, driving— vocalist Richie Cavalera screams

with a passionate intensity. The latest album was recorded by Matt Hyde (Deftones, Slayer)...

CY!: ...and the sound is huge—raw where it needs to be raw and polished where it needs to be smooth. Lennon Lopez’ drums sound like a freight train about to run your sorry ass over and the rest of the band is there to chop up your bones.

shreds and Harris is a fucking animal on the skins. The whole band is tight as fuck. You’ve got some pretty decent metal bands in your indieaddled, wannabe punk-ass little nothing town.

Blood Cabana—Blood Cabana are a homegrown metal phenomenon.

The music is chunky and powerful—thrash with a taste of sludge.

Armed for the Apocalypse. I know about these guys.

CY!: Zak Marasti’s vocal cords sound like they’re honed from iron cabling.

Chico’s own Sludge metal superstars have been generating a stomach-churning rumble since 2008. The band has released two studio albums and toured on and off for years. Their driving sound is anchored by the pummeling drum-work of Nick Harris and bass player Cor Vaspara. Cale Hunter and Kirk Williams share the guitar duties while Williams also does the Lion’s share of the vocal work.

Williams dons a number of musical personalities and the screamed, guttural vocals he delivers with Armed for the Apocalypse are a far cry from the folkier, melodic stylings of his solo act “Lish Bills.”

Their debut album “Hell is Paradise” makes you wonder if they are referring to our neighbors to the east.

CY!: Dude, that band kicks fucking ass. They will pile-drive your sorry ass into the fucking floor. Williams

CY!: They have a hell of groovy sound that combines the screaming vocals of Ignacio Ysern with the

Gigantes...

CY!: Another Chico band—your scene is dense!

This town is churning out a lot of solid metal. The five-piece Gigantes formed in September of 2013 and released a self-titled five song EP shortly before 2013.

The band is currently working on another EP scheduled for a summer 2015 release.

“clean” vocals of Walker Trotchie.

Fast, intense, and dynamic—this Chico band packs a huge punch.

The band tells me they love: “writing music and partying,” and “hope our future fans find the music entertaining and uplifting.”

CY!: So far, so good. Looking forward to seeing these guys rocking on Sunday.

Final thoughts?

CY!: Look, this is a no-brainer—a must-attend for anyone who claims to have any interest in heavy metal music. If you claim you are any percent metal and you don’t show up at this show go ahead, cut your balls off, and mail them to me. I’ll leave my address. I’d suggest the uninitiated go too, but this show might just explode your brains; and then the cleaning crew at Lost would have a bunch of blood and gray goop to clean up. No one really likes cleaning up brain bits that much.

Alright man, thanks for taking the time… The show is this Sunday, November 23rd at Lost on Main.

Tickets are $20 and showtime is 6 p.m.

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 9

Turkey Bags and Trimming Scissors THE PASSAGE OF MEASURE A IS GOING TO NEGATIVELY IMPACT AN ALREADY STRUGGLING LOCAL ECONOMY.

On The Town 10

PHOTOS BY VINCE LATHAM FACEBOOK.COM/VANGUARD.PHOTOGRAPHY

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

Man this Measure A is a bad deal for Butte County. It is a newly passed ordinance that places some heavy restrictions on cultivating marijuana. The ordinance means anyone growing on less than a half acre lot must grow indoors, in a detached building no larger than 120 square feet. If you’ve got anywhere between a half acre to 5 acres, you are allowed to grow outdoors, but your garden space is limited to 50 square feet. This is about the size of your typical bathroom. If you have between five and ten acres of land, you can grow a garden encompassing 100 square feet of that land—a ten foot square area. Once you get over ten acres you are allowed only 150 square feet—smaller than a small bedroom.

contingency will immediately leap to “drug dealers,” but apart from the people directly participating in the trade, there are numerous local businesses that will be negatively impacted by this legislation. I am talking about gardening supply stores, soil vendors, and hardware stores. Heck, the Lowe’s superstore runs out of trimming scissors every October.

This is a major business that sends ripples out all through the local economy. Looking even further down the chain, Trish and I have had discussions about marijuana growing being the “gateway drug to gardening.” Many a botanist, horticulturist, or home gardener took their first genuine interest in plants after realizing the potency and power of marijuana.

This is ridiculous. I can understand some restriction regarding growing space when you are talking about densely populated areas, but out in the country and up in the mountains? A few growers have taken limited solace in the fact that enforcement of the ordinance is based on reporting—meaning a neighbor has to file a formal complaint before law enforcement will respond to a growing site—but then that solace is snatched away once you realize the ordinance allows for “anonymous complaints.” So anyone from a disgruntled former employee, to a burned ex-lover, to a crusading “just say no!” fundamentalist can complain without even having to reveal if they live anywhere near the patch in question. It’s arbitrary and Draconian.

I don’t think people fully understand the ramifications of the ordinance that has just passed.

Well I suppose I’m writing about closing the barn door after the cow has already wandered off, been stricken with Brucellosis, and is currently being devoured by ravens. I’m up in Tehama County so I hadn’t been monitoring this ordinance like I should have been. My apologies, and I hope there is some sort of legal remedy to this ill-considered initiative.

Like it or not, marijuana cultivation has been and continues to be a huge underground source of income for many residents of Butte County. The cynical-minded anti-dope

Ultimately I’m embarrassed that here in California we haven’t already legalized marijuana without restriction based on “medical need.” Colorado, Washington, Alaska and Oregon, as well as the District of Columbia, have all voted to legalize the recreational use of the drug. We’re behind on this one—California should have been on this decades ago. Hell, we grow some of the best weed in the world right here in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada.

Immaculate Infection

by Bob Howard

Madbob@madbob.com

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Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare AT THE INTERSECTION OF CLEVER AND STUPID I can’t just review indie roguelikes and mid-range RPGs, you know. I play the whole spectrum, except maybe racing games, though I’ll definitely be reviewing GTA V’s PC release. Call of Duty, often abbreviated both affectionately and pejoratively as CoD, is both the industry’s poster boy and its whipping boy. It’s consistently made fun of by those who consider themselves “enlightened gamers” for being repetitive, mindless, and macho, and suspicious gamers see it as the face of corporate sponsorship, corrupt reviews, and blind greed. It has the most fanfare, millions of players, and hundreds of thousands of detractors, some of which are also dedicated players.

Advanced Warfare is perhaps an attempt by Activision Publishing, the great and terrible corporate beast of gaming, to sluggishly respond to the rising criticisms of the CoD franchise, which seemed to come to a head with CoD Ghosts in 2013. In an effort to make the game less repetitive and predictable, they have set it in the near future, the 2050s, and introduced lasers, robots, drones, and more.

Many of these new technologies, I’ve noticed, are good justifications for the ridiculous nature of the combat in the series. Heroes who can take 10,000 bullets doesn’t seem strange when they’re wearing state of the art body armor. Killing someone in one instant melee attack seems a lot more plausible if their punch is backed up by a powered exoskeleton.

But there are plenty of new mechanics added in, sort of. Everything new to the CoD franchise, among them jump jets, pinpoint lasers, cloaks, deployable shields, a grappling hook, mech suits, etc. has been seen before, elsewhere. Advanced Warfare is not striking off into the unknown, filled with pioneer spirit; it is years behind the settlers, only approaching

tame mechanics broken by those before them.

And yet… and yet… it’s fun! It’s still technically falling into the trap that many have accused of every new CoD: “oh boy, more guns, more shooting, how revolutionary!” Yet these tamed mechanics are added in well, and they’re not just randomly thrown in to see what sticks like some behemoth corporations I can think of(That’s right Ubisoft, I’m talking to you!

You’re next.) The mobility offered by grappling hooks and jump jets synergizes very well with the tight shooting of CoD to be more than just the corner-turning shooting gallery that it often fell into being. Introduction of mechs dramatically changes the battlefield to be reminiscent of Titanfall, making the ground troops worried and oppressed. Target enhancing grenades and guns that outline enemies in smoke and cover allow consistent flushing out of dug-in enemies and even pushing back assaults. None of it may be brand new, but it is smartly done.

All of that, however, is more than a little damaged by the fact that there are no dedicated servers for multiplayer. Connectivity is sporadic and untrustworthy. And trust me, single player is not worth the asking price, Kevin Spacey and fancy facial graphics aside.

CoD has become all about the multiplayer, which leaves me baffled as to why they would abandon their “experimental” new flagship where it matters most. Maybe they’ll fix it, someday. Maybe. I wouldn’t trust their word until they’ve done it, though. Until then, maybe sit this one out and pick it back up when they get their shit together.

Productivity Wasted

by Eli Schwartz

pwasted@synthesis.net

THURSDAY

RAIDERS VS CHIEFS | 5:25 PM COORS LT PROMO 6-8PM DURING THE GAME

DRINK SPECIALS & GIVEAWAYS

Food & Drink MONDAY TUESDAY

FREE POOL AFTER 10PM

WATCH ALL THE

GAMES HERE

344 west 8th St | chico, ca | 530-343-2790

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY FRIDAY

Closed.

We need to drink, too!

Closed

Mon-Fri Happy Hour 12-4pm $3 Sierra & Domestic Pints 6PM - close $1 Off Pitchers $5 Sailor Jerry DBLs All Day Every Day

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7pm PBR $2.25 Everyday!

Open Mic Comedy Night Every Other Week!

Happy Hour 2-6pm M-F $1.00 off Sierra and Dom Pitchers $1.00 off PBR & Olympia Pool Rates Cut in 1/2!

$6.99 Pulled pork sand w/ fries or salad Wings 5 for $3 from halftime 'til they're gone!

MONSTER MONDAY SPECIALS 6PM-CLOSE BEER $3.50/4.50/5.50/6.50 FREE Pool after 10PM

Come see our beautiful Patio! Happy Hour 4-6: Menu cocktails $1 off. Sierra Nevada Draft $3

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$2.50 TUESDAY: Tacos, Corn Dogs, French Fries or Tots, Chips & Salsa and Motzerells sticks only $2.50 ALL Day! Homemade Soup Daily $3 Sierra and Dom Pints $ 3.50 Kamis ALL DAY!

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7PM PBR $2.25 Everyday!

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Happy Hour 2-6pm M-F $1.00 off Sierra and Dom Pitchers $1.00 off PBR and Olympia Cans Pool Rates Cut in 1/2!

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WING WEDNESDAY! $2 for 3 Wings 8pm-Close $2.50 Fire Eater Shots $5.50 DBL Bacardi Cocktails $5 Sailor Jerry DBLs All Day Every Day

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7pm

Chicken Waffle Wed.!

8 ball Tourney 6pm sign-up Happy Hour 2-6pm M-F $1.00 off Sierra and Dom Pitchers $1.00 off PBR and Olympia Pool Rates Cut in 1/2!

Reuben Sand w/ fries or salad $6.99

Come see our beautiful Patio! Happy Hour 4-6: Wander Food Truck on the Patio 6pm

Open 9PM Bartender Specials $3 14oz. Slushies $4 20oz. Slushies

Mon-Fri Happy Hour 12-4pm $3 Sierra & Domestic Pints $3.50 Soccer moms $6 Dbl Roaring Vodka Homemade Soup Daily $5 Sailor Jerry DBLs All Day Every Day

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7pm PBR $2.25 Everyday!

Chico Jazz Collective 8-midnight Happy Hour 2-6pm M-F $1.00 off Sierra & Dom Pitchers $1.00 off PBR and Olympia Pool Rates Cut in 1/2!

Baby Back Ribs $11.99 Philly Cheesesteak $7.99

Join us for Beers on our Patio Bar! Happy Hour from 4-6.

Open 9PM Bartender Specials $3 14oz. Slushies $4 20oz. Slushies

Mon-Fri Happy Hour 12-4pm $3 Sierra & Domestic Pints Weekend Blast Off!!

8-close $5 Blasters Homemade Soup Daily

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7PM

Rock Out at The DL! Enjoy Live Music, Great Grub, and 10 9' foot tables Open @11am All ages untill 10pm

10 oz. Tri-Tip Steak w/ Fries or Salad & Garlic Bread $8.99 8pm-Close $4 J채ger $5.50 DBL Vodka Red Bull $2.50 Kamikaze shots FREE Pool after 10PM

Open at 11am $4.50 Bloody Mary $5.50 Absolut Peppar Bloody Marys Noon - 6PM $8 / $9 SN Dom Pitchers $5.50 DBL Bacardi Cocktails

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7pm Full Bar in Back Room Weds, Fri & Sat Nights!

PBR $2.25 Everyday!

Rock Out at The DL! Enjoy Live Music, Great Grub, and 10 9' foot tables Open @11am All ages untill 10pm

Baby Back Ribs w/Salad, Fries & garlic bread $11.99 8pm-Close $4 Single/$6 Double Jack or Captain $3 Sierra Nevada Pints FREE Pool after 10pm

10am -2pm $5 Bottles of Champagne with entree $4.50 Bloody Mary $5.50 Absolut Peppar Bloody Marys OPEN FOR CHRISTMAS PREVIEW

Daily Happy Hour from 4-7pm PBR $2.25 Everyday!

Free Pool with Purchase!

1.00 off Sierra and Dom Pitchers $1.00 off PBR and Olympia Cans OPEN FOR CHRISTMAS PREVIEW

$5.49 Grad/Garden/ Turkey Burger w/fries or salad Bloodies $3 Well, $4 Call, $5 Top, $6 Goose Mimosas $2/flute, $5/pint $6 CHEAP Beer Pitchers FREE Pool after 10pm

JACK DANIELS HONEY SPECIAL 9-close

EAT. DRINK. PLAY.

Find Out How you Can Play Pool

for Only $1/Day!

LESSONS, LEAGUES AND TOURNAMENTS!

GREAT FOOD! LIVE MUSIC!

We open at 12:00pm.

SATURDAY SUNDAY

Tacotruck.biz and Beers on the Patio!

Open 9pm Bartender Specials $3 14oz. Slushies $4 20oz. Slushies PATRON INCENDIO 11-close

WE OPEN AT 12:00PM MIMOSAS WITH FRESH SQUEEZED OJ FOR $5 UNTIL 5PM.

CLOSED

CHRISTMAS PREVIEW SUNDAY - NOV 23RD DO ALL YOUR CHRISTMAS SHOPPING AT DUFFYS

shirts 2 for $20 while supplies last 319 Main Street (530) 892-2473

12

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PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY - (530) 343-7718

Full Bar in Back Room Weds, Fri & Sat Nights!

PBR $2.25 Everyday!

HAPPY HOUR 4-7PM Beer Week Guinness cocktail specials Beer coozie giveaway at back bar

OPEN FOR CHRISTMAS PREVIEW

8pm-Close Pitcher Specials $6.50/$9.50/$13 FREE Pool after 10PM

6pm-Close $4.50 Grad teas $3.50 All beer pints FREE Pool after 10PM Coors Light Promo 6-8PM

Join Us For

Closed

Go DownLo

BEAR-E-OKE BURGER MADNESS! Bear Burger with fries or salad for $5.49.

11am-10pm.

Happy Hour 11-6pm select bottles & drafts $3

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2 FOR 1 BURGERS ALL DAY !!

MINORS WELCOME!

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$2.50 Select Sierra Nevada or Dom Drafts $2 Kamis -any flavor All Day

$3.50 Tea of the Day Bartender Specials Happy Hour 4-8pm

Happy Hour 4 - 7pm

Progressive Night:

Closed

$1.50 sliders and other cheap eats!

8 - 10pm $1 Dom, Wells & Sierra Nevada Pale Ale 10pm - Close: Up $0.25 per hour til closing

All 16 oz Teas or AMF $3 All Day

$3.50 Skyyy Vodka Cocktails $3.50 Tea of the Day Bartender Specials Happy Hour 4-8pm

1/2 OFF EVERYTHING!!!

4-6pm $1 Dom Drafts $2 SN Drafts & Wells $5 DBL Captain Buck Night 8-Close $1 wells, SN Pale Ale, Rolling Rock, Dom Draft $3 Black Butte $4 Vodka Redbull

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Happy Hour 11-6pm $3 select bottles & drafts

9pm - Close $2 12oz Teas $3 20oz Teas $2 Well, Dom Bottles & bartender Specials $5 Vodka Red Bull

Happy Hour 4 -7pm

4-6pm $1 Dom Drafts $2 SN Drafts & Wells $5 DBL Captain 8pm - Close $4 151 Party punch 22oz.

8 - 9pm $1 Pale Ale & Dom.Draft Up $0.25/ hr until close

Closed

$3.50 Tea of the Day Bartender Specials Happy Hour 4-8pm

Happy Hour- 4-7pm $5 Fridays 4-8pm Most food items and pitchers of beer are $5

Power Hour 8 - 9pm 1/2 Off Liquor & Drafts (excludes pitchers) 9PM - Close $3 Domestic Drafts $9.75 Pitchers $5 Dbl Sugar Island Rum NO COVER

Open at 9pm

Hot "Dawgs" ALL DAY!

Mon. - Sat. 4pm - 6pm $1 Dom. draft, $2 SN Draft and Wells Power Hour 8 - 9pm $3 Domestic Drafts $9.75 Pitchers $5 Dbl Sugar Island Rum NO COVER

BOTTLE SERVICE Now Available!

Call for reservation 898-9898

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MUG CLUB 4-10PM LATE NIGHT EATS! kitchen open until 1 AM

WACKY WEDNESDAYS (8pm - close ) DJ Party 4 different DJ’s $1 wells $2 calls $2 domestic bottles $6 pitchers of well drinks

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Happy Hour 4 - 8pm Ladies Night!

8pm - CLOSE $5 Pabst pitchers $2 shot board $4 Moscow Mules $3 Jamo and Ginger Buck Hour 10:30 - 11:30

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Happy Hour 4 - 8pm

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FIREBALL FRIDAYS!!!

8pm - Close $3 Fireball Shots $4 Big Teas $3 Coronas

TRIKE RACES! Post time @ 10pm.

Win T-shirts and Bear Bucks.

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BURGER MADNESS! Bear Burger with fries or salad for $5.49.

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Select Pints $3

LIVE MUSIC 1/2 OFF COVER before 10PM

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8 pm - CLOSE $4 Sauza Margaritas $3 Kamis $3 Shocktop & VIP pint

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KARAOKE "INDUSTRY NIGHT" 8 PM - CLOSE HALF OFF ALMOST EVERYTHING!(Except Red Bull and Premium Liquors) Specials All Day!

OPEN FOR 36 CRAZYFISTS SHOW

JACK DANIELS HONEY SPECIAL 9-close LATE NIGHT EATS! kitchen open until 1 AM

LIVE MUSIC 1/2 OFF COVER before 10pm BURGER MADNESS! Bear Burger with fries or salad for $5.49.

11am-10pm.

LATE NIGHT EATS! kitchen open until 1am

$4 Sex On The Beach $4 Sierra Nevada Knightro ON TAP $1 Jello Shots 7-10pm $3 Fireball

$4 World Famous Bloody Joe $5 Premium bloodys your choice of vodka

$3.50 Tea of the Day Bartender Specials Happy Hour 4-8pm

$1.50 sliders and other cheap eats!!

PATRON INCENDIO 11-close

Champagne Brunch 11am - 2pm $4 Champagne with entree OPEN FOR CHRISTMAS PREVIEW

Champagne Brunch and SPORTS!

CHRISTMAS PREVIEW SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 23

Enjoy

Seasons greetings

SHOT HOMEMADE SOUP DAILY

1 3 4 B r o a d w a y S t, C h i c o , C A | 5 3 0 . 8 9 3 . 5 2 5 3

191 E. 2ND ST • 898-0630

BOTTLE SERVICE Now Available!

Call for reservation 898-9898 Large selection of wines, sangrias and Martinis.

Open at 9pm Large selection of wines, sangrias and Martinis.

NEW THIS WEEK...

TUESDAY $1 WELLS, DRAFTS, DOM. & SIERRA NEVADA 8-10PM PROGRESSIVE 10-2AM UP 25¢ PER HR. UNTIL CLOSE

WEDNESDAY $1 WELLS/ROLLING ROCK, PALE ALE & DOM. $3 BUTTE PORTER $4 VODKA REDBULL

OPEN FOR CHRISTMAS PREVIEW!

THURSDAY $1 PALE ALE & DOM. UP 25¢ PER HR. 8PM-CLOSE $4 151 PARTY PUNCH $5 DBL CAPTAIN

no cover friday & sat 9-close sugar island rum $5 dbl.

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 13

This Week Only...

Fine Dining in the Tradition of Southern Italy

SUBMIT YOUR EVENTS TO CALENDAR@SYNTHESIS.NET

BEST BETS IN ENTERTAINMENT

SICILIAN CAFÉ Friday, November 21st

Celebrating 30 years !

Farm.

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Italian.

1020 Main Street Chico 530.345.2233 14

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

Saturday, November 22nd

TWIN PEAKS NIGHT THE MALTESE

BLUE ROOM EMPIRE ARC PAVILLION

Sunday, November 23rd

Sunday, November 23rd

Come join fellow Twin Peaks and David Lynch fans for a night of oddity and entertainment! With Twin Peaks playing on flatscreens, pie and doughnuts, a One Eyed Jack-inspired performance by the Malteazers, and a costume contest with prizes, this is the place to be. If nothing else, come drink some damn fine cocktails and count how many log ladies show up. 9pm, 21+, $5.

CHRISTMAS PREVIEW DOWNTOWN CHICO

Ah, Christmas Preview. The sights! The sounds! The hot cider! Bundle up in your favorite seasonal sweater, stroll around downtown, and take comfort in the fact that while Christmas is still over a month away, you’re not alone in indulging in a little preemptive holiday cheer. Bonus points for those who consume peppermint flavored anything, or wear a fur trapper hat. 4-8pm, all ages, free.

This week at...

On

POLYRHYTHMICS & MARK SEXTON TRIO

Throw on your go-to Gatsby costume (you know you have one), and head down to the Arc Pavillion for a night of pure swank. With food, music, booze and gambling, this is a great event that comes but once a year, you don’t want to miss it!

All proceeds benefit the Blue Room Theater. Tickets $65, available at Lyon Books and blueroomtheater.com, 6:30pm. 21+

20 YEARS IN THE TRENCHES TOUR LOST ON MAIN

If you’re a metal fan, there’s no other place to be on Sunday than at Lost. With performances by 36 Crazyfists, SKINLAB, All Hail The Yeti, INCITE, Armed For Apocalypse, Blood Cabana, and Gigantes, this is one show you don’t want to miss. Pro-tip: stroll through downtown to soak up the pre-Christmas cheer, then head to Lost to headbang it all out. 6pm, 21+, $18.

Upcoming shows...

NOV

22

WAKE OF THE DEAD

NOV

29

CALIFORNIA HONEYDROPS W/ SPECIAL GUEST JELLY BREAD

Main DOORS OPEN AT 9PM | HALF OFF DRINKS BEFORE 10PM

DEC

05

New & Exciting: 17 Monday

Basement of Frustration: Freak Vibe, Icko Sicko, Outside Looking In, Strange Ones. 6pm, all ages, $5, (374 E 9th St) Duffy’s: Novembeard checkpoint #2. 6pm

18 Tuesday

1078 Gallery: Olivia Awbrey, Ave Grave, Sofia Maldonado, Nolan Ford. 7:30pm, all ages, $5-$10 CARD Center: Climate Crisis - The “State of our Species” Address. 6pm-8pm, 18+, donations accepted El Rey Theatre: Michael Franti (Acoustic). SOLD OUT Laxson: Senegal St. Joseph Gospel Choir. 7:30pm, all ages, $10-$36 Sierra Nevada Big Room: Chris Webster w/ Nina Gerber & Mollie O’Brien w/Rich Moore.

7:30-9:30pm, all ages, $15 Wine Time: Painted CellarsWhere Art and Entertainment Collide. 6pm-8pm, 18+, $40 Wismer Theatre: As It Is In Heaven. 2pm, $6-$15, available at the University Box Office

19 Wednesday

El Rey Theatre: Murs ¡Mayday!

Doors 8pm, show 8:30pm. $15/ advance Maltese: Bandmaster Ruckus, Wanderers & Wolves, Ghost Pines. 9pm, 21+ Wismer Theatre: As It Is In Heaven. 7:30pm, $6-$15, available at the University Box Office

20 Thursday

Blue Room Theater: Nirvanov. 7:30pm, All Ages Lasalles: Happy Hour + Live Music with Tough Love.

4-8pm, 21+ Senator Theatre: Gareth Emery: Drive Tour 2014. Doors 8pm, show 8:30pm, 18+, $15-$25

21 Friday

Blue Room Theater: Nirvanov. 7:30pm, All Ages Lasalles: Beat That Beat, featuring DJ Babyface & Scott Jenkins Blee. 10pm, 21+ Laxson: Allen Toussaint & The

Preservation Hall Jazz Band: Oh Yeah! Tour. 7:30pm, all ages, $10-$40 Maltese: Twin Peaks Night.

Twin Peaks costume contest, performance by the Malteazers, 9pm-2am, 21+, $5 Pageant Theatre: Adoption Choices of Northern California Third Annual Movie Night, screening of Twin Sisters. 6pm, all ages, $9 Tackle Box: James Slack. 9pm, 21+, $2 Wine Time: Painted CellarsWhere Art and Entertainment Collide. 6pm-8pm, 18+, $40

22 Saturday

Arc Pavillion: Blue Room Empire, casino themed fundraiser for the Blue Room Theatre.

6:30pm, $65 Cafe Coda: Clouds on Strings, Glimpse Trio, Monk Warrior, Surrounded by Giants. 6pm, all ages, $7 Lasalles: Saturday happy hour + live music with Nacho and the Dollar. 4-8pm, 21+ Lost On Main: Polyrhythmics w/ Mark Sexton band. 9pm, 21+ Maltese: Trox & The Terribles, Mt. Whateverest. 9pm, 21+, $5 Rise Yoga: Meg Amor’s Video Debut Event, featuring music

by Simple Science, Roxy Doll, JaQuan Sayres, plus photo gallery and goodies for sale. 7pm, all ages, $5-$20 Tackle Box: Northern Heat.

9pm, 21+, $3

23 Sunday

City Plaza: Tweed Ride. Starts at 11am in the plaza, then runs through Bidwell Park to 5 Mile.

All ages, free Downtown: Christmas Preview.

4pm-8pm Lost On Main: 20 Years in the Trenches 2014. 36 Crazyfists, SKINLAB, All Hail The Yeti, INCITE, Armed for Apocalypse, Blood Cabana, Gigantes. 6pm1am, 21+, $18 Sierra Nevada Big Room: Red Molly w/ Melody Walker & Jacob Groopman. 7:30pm-10pm, $17.50

Ongoing Events: 17 Monday

100th Monkey: Healing Light Meditation, 7pm-8:15pm The Bear: Bear-E-oke! 9pm Chico Womens Club: Prenatal Yoga.

5:30-6:30pm DownLo: Open Mic Comedy Night.

Free.

Maltese: Open Mic Comedy, Signups at 8pm, starts at 9pm. Mug Night 7-11:30pm The Tackle Box: Latin Dance Classes.

Free, 7-9pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Yoga Center Of Chico: Sound Healing w. Emiliano (no relation).

Breathwork, Meditation, Healing.

18 Tuesday

100th Monkey: Fusion Belly Dance mixed-level class, with BellySutra. $8/class or $32/month. 6pm The Bear: Open Jam Night, featuring a different live band opening each week. Bring instruments, 9pm1:30am Chico Women’s Club: Yoga. 9-10am.

Afro Carribean Dance. $10/class or $35/mo. 5:50-7pm.

Crazy Horse Saloon: All Request Karaoke. 21+ DownLo: Game night. All ages until 10pm Holiday Inn Bar: Salsa Lessons, 7-10pm LaSalles: ’90s night. 21+ Panama Bar: Tropical Tuesdays ft.

Mack Morris & DJ2K. 10pm Studio Inn Lounge: Karaoke.

8:30pm-1am The Tackle Box: Karaoke, 9pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstocks: Trivia Challenge. Call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts 6:30pm

19 Wednesday

The Bear: Trike Races. Post time 10pm Chico Women’s Club: Afro Brazilian Dance. 5:30-7pm DownLo: Wednesday night jazz.

8 Ball Tournament, signups 6pm, starts 7pm Duffys: Dance Night! DJ Spenny and Jeff Howse. $1, 9pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm

The Maltese: Friends With Vinyl!

Bring your vinyl and share up to 3 songs/12 minutes on the turntable. 9pm-1am The Tackle Box: Line Dance classes. Free, 5:30-7:30pm. Swing Dance classes. Free, 7:30-9:30pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstocks: Trivia Night plus Happy Hour. call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts at 8pm

20 Thursday

1078 Gallery: Future MONCA, featuring 6 local art collections.

Free, open 12:30-5:30pm.

The Beach: Live DJ, no cover, 9pm DownLo: Live Jazz. 8-11pm. All ages until 10pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Has Beans Downtown: Open Mic Night. 7-10pm. Signups start at 6pm Holiday Inn Bar: Karaoke.

8pm-midnight James Snidle Fine Arts: Paula Busch-”Japan.” 9am-5pm LaSalles: Free live music on the patio. 6-9pm Maltese: Karaoke. 9pm-close Panama Bar: Buck night and DJ Eclectic & guests on the patio.

9pm Pleasant Valley Rec Center: CARD World Dance Classes.

6-7pm/youth 10-17, 7-8:30pm/ adults. $20/4classes Quackers: Karaoke night with Andy. 9pm-1am University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstocks: Open Mic Night Yoga Center Of Chico: Ecstatic Dance with Clay Olson. 7:309:30pm

21 Friday

1078 Gallery: Future MONCA, featuring 6 local art collections.

Free, open 12:30-5:30pm.

The Beach: Live DJ, 9pm Blue Room: Nirvanov. 7:30pm, all ages Cafe Coda: Friday Morning Jazz with Bogg, happy hour. 10am2pm Chico Creek Dance Center:

Chico international folk dance club. 7:30pm, $2 DownLo: ½ off pool. All ages until 10pm. Live Music, 8pm Duffys: Pub Scouts - Happy Hour.

4-7pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Holiday Inn Bar: DJ Dance Party.

8pm-midnight LaSalles: Open Mic night on the patio. 6-9pm Maltese: Happy hour with live jazz by Bogg. 5-7pm. LGBTQ+ Dance Party. 9pm Panama Bar: Jigga Julee, DJ Mah on the patio. 9pm Peeking: BassMint. Weekly electronic dance party. $1-$5.

9:30pm Quackers: Live DJ. 9pm Sultan’s Bistro: Bellydance Performance. 6:30-7:30pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm

22 Saturday

1078 Gallery: Future MONCA, featuring 6 local art collections. Free, open 12:30-5:30pm.

The Beach: Live DJ, 9pm DownLo: 9 Ball tournament. Signups at noon, starts at 1pm. All ages until 10pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Holiday Inn Bar: DJ Dancing. 70s and 80s music. The Molly Gunn’s Revival! 8pm-midnight LaSalles: 80’s Night. 8pm-close Panama Bar: DJ Eclectic on the patio. 9pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm

23 Sunday

Dorothy Johnson Center: Soul Shake Dance Church. Free-style dance wave, $8-$15 sliding scale.

10am-12:30pm DownLo: Free Pool, 1 hour with every $8 purchase. All ages until 10pm LaSalles: Karaoke. 9pm Maltese: Live Jazz 4-7pm. Trivia 8pm Followed by: Smashed Spelling Bee. 9pm.Trivia 8pm Tackle Box: Karaoke, 8pm

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 15

PART 2

BY EMILIANO GARCIA-SARNOFF

4. (5:30 am. Solar Plexus) My body had finally given out from a night of hugging or laughing or sliding around on baby powder slicked sheets of linoleum or bouncing frenetic in front of black walls of thundering tweeters, cones and woofers. I was splayed out in a Bedouin tent that served as the Ambient Chillout Room, kinesthetic sense all jangled—lying still but swaying, spinning inside—on Technicolor bean bags in a cuddlepuddle twenty people deep. The air was blacklight-lit and filled with Black Love incense. Here the nostalgia that led us to dress like children and never stop laughing reached its terminus. The Chillout Room was the child’s blanket fort, the womb.

I was with the girl. Yes, her. Barely touching the tiny, tiny hairs on her earlobe. Her teeth and the lint on her sweatshirt and the whites of her eyes and the pink parts of her ponytails were glowing crazy purple-white. “Romance” with girls had been my natural shortcut to connection since well before 16

puberty.

Someone put their hand on my shoulder, snapping me to. It was Marcus and Beanstock. They were not smiling. Normally, just the sight of these guys made me radiate. Not now.

“Get up, man,” said Marcus in a tone that half-sobered me, extending his hand to me.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I took Marcus’ hand and he effortlessly levitated me to my feet.

“We gotta take care of something, c’mon,” said Beanstock, his huge pupils drilling into me.

We pushed our way out of the tent’s labial flaps with the back of our hands and out into the thinning crowds.

“Alright look,” said Beanstock, when we had reached a place equidistant from two dance areas, where we could hear each other. I had never seen Beanstock shaken like this. “I was out in the parking

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

lot for a while, right? Just partying, you know. And then like I saw that there was someone in Mark’s car, even though, like, the windows were fogged up and shit. So like I strolled up on it, right? So, basically, I opened the door and Stevie was in there and his eyes were barely open, right? Like fluttering and shit, OK? And like his head was like falling over. And like…Mark had his…”

Beanstock trailed off, his hands still helplessly describing in the air.

“Mark had Stevie’s fucking pants off, man!” Marcus finished for him.

I noticed the littered, dirty, matted, dying grass, and felt the cold for the first time, cutting through the waves of warmth. The psilocybin was knotting in my stomach. I was spinning, my mind flying off this way and that. I saw us now the way Mark must have seen us: bright pubescent fish swimming without cover; disarmed, drugged, vulnerable; fleeing fucked up homes, searching for something, something we could mistake as something else. How could we have been so stupid?

“I was like high as fuck, right?”

Beanstock went on. “So I just kinda froze, and I was like ‘What the fuck you doing?’ right? And Mark just kept being like all ‘nothing, nothing,’ while he was, like, backing out of the truck and then Stevie fell into my arms and while I’m trying to get his pants up—his eyes were like fucking rolled back in his head— Mark just fucking bolts. Just jets his old ass back into the party. But I got his keys. Motherfucker’s gunna be looking for a ride. He’s in here.”

“What the fuck,” I said, genuinely upset, but also worried, as I listened to my own thin voice, that I wasn’t hearing the correct level of activated male toughness. “Should we call the cops?” I asked, regretting the question even while asking it. I felt suddenly like the fifteen-yearold, unprepared boy that I was.

“The cops?” Marcus asked. “There’s no phones here, man. And fuck the cops! I’m gunna go find Mark and I’m gunna kick his fucking ass.”

Instinctively, we looked to Beanstock, who had gone still, lost

in thought.

“Beans?” I murmured.

Beanstock stared out.

“No cops,” he said, finally. He spoke calmly, resolutely now.

“Cops don’t give a shit about Stevie. They probably won’t do shit and they’ll probably roll Stevie for being high and tell his parents, who, you guys know, will never let him leave the house again. Why? Because Mark is a pedo and we didn’t fucking see it and he fucking touched him when he was, like, barely conscious and shit? Nah, fuck that. We get Mark. But not for revenge.” He looked at Marcus, who said nothing.

And then looking at me: “We get Mark because family protects family. Because he can never come around us again or think he can get away with this shit.”

Family protects family. I would follow Beanstock anywhere. Plus he was right. I thought of Stevie

running down that hill, leading the charge, and of those secret briefly seen depths, and a deep, hot heartburn of rage set in just above my solar plexus.

5. (Deus Does Do the Damnedist) With mushrooms, there are no similes, only metaphors. Things become things they are not. I knew, for the first time, why humans’ eyes were set in the front of their skulls. We were hunting now, silent flashing wolves—silent flashing wolves in the most uncamouflaged, ludicrous hunting gear imaginable.

We moved through the crowds with scanning necks. There were so many people. So much movement and darkness. Such good cover. He could have easily slipped around us and gotten back out to the parking lot. He was gone, cruising to some after party with all new kids.

No, there he was. Behind a DJ booth. Saw us as we saw him.

Backpeddled, turned on his heels, gone. Gone again into a syncopated, flailing mass. We were on his trail.

Dancers parted and then closed in again behind him, the ancient tribal drums thudding and the crowd skipping in place together, thrusting glowsticked fists into the air.

There he was, exiting the party, leaving a dissolving trail of fractal colors in his wake. We moved together without talking; focused but hallucinating; stumbling but stalking. Family protects family.

In the parking lot he ducked down amongst the cars, gone again. We spread out, Pac-Man ghosts through the maze of Mazdas, Jeeps, Civics.

The sky was lightening and a little sliver of moon had come up low.

The hoods and roofs of the cars gleamed like the tiny pools of a low tide. Cliques leaned up against them here and there, smoking pot, or laughing eerily. He popped up on the edge of the woods, past the last car. He turned and saw us.

For a frozen beat, Mark stood there, still. With the pale light and the distance, his face was like a white erase mark in a smudged charcoal drawing. He looked sad, scared. He

turned—and then, resigned, almost casually, he slipped into the forest.

We followed him. Lucy into the wardrobe, we felt our way in. Spiny smooth bark gave way to massive trunks with soft, suede-like skins.

Our eyes strained against the darkness. A hundred yards in the music was no longer detectable.

We went still to hear for him. The crepuscular things made faint rustlings. We crept on. We grew dismayed. We were in far enough to actually get disoriented and lost.

“Do you think if we yell out ‘Markoh,’ he’ll yell back ‘Polo’?” I asked, not expecting a laugh and not getting one. We looked at each other. We had gone far enough.

Then, from deeper in came the brief report of a snapping branch, a man’s panicked scream, the violent rustling of brush, and, over it all, an unmistakable guttural snarl. We ran toward the sound, pushed suddenly by new primal instincts.

This was the sort of moment that would have been, in some respects,

stranger had we been sober. As it was, it was just another in a long list of bizarre things I had been seeing all night, like the faces in the trees.

The cat’s broad haunches were to us. It looked up as we approached, its slit eyes flashing yellow-blue magician’s fire, its white fangs drawn, ears slicked back, its maw matted with black blood. It paused for a brief beat, considered its options, and then walked with soft silent paws back into the trees.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…” said Beanstock or Marcus, I can’t remember which.

Maybe it was me that said it.

Mark sat up; wretched, pale, face twisted up.

“Did that just happen? Did that just fucking happen? Did you guys see that? Was that real?” Marcus asked, meaning the questions.

“You saved me.” Blood was dripping from the nipple-tip of a pacifier dangling from Mark’s neck. “You guys saved me,” he said, and then

he eased himself over onto his side, hugging his knees, slick and slimy and bloodless-grey like a newborn.

6. (Fish and Wildlife) An excerpt from The California Department of Fish and Wildlife website detailing confirmed mountain lion attacks on humans in California (you can skip to the third one if you want): -Sept, 1993, Fatal, Gaviota State Park, Santa Barbara County, Male, 9 yrs. (Separated from family during a family camping trip. Autopsy consistent with Mountain Lion attack.)

-April 1994, Fatal, Auburn State Recreation Area, El Dorado, Female, 40 yrs.

(Long distance runner killed while jogging) -Aug. 1994, Nonfatal, San Bernardino County, Male, 41 yrs.

(Mauled when he wandered into the forest from a remote, nighttime FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 17

Back at Denies. A circularity; returned but forever changed and all that.

nighttime event. Cat scared off by three boys also attending the event.)

Dec, 1994, Fatal, Cuyamaca Rancho State Park, Female, 56 (Killed while hiking alone)

7. ($1.99? Are You Out of Your Mind?)

“Like why do they even have the rest of the menu? Why the fuck would anyone get anything other than the $1.99 combo? I mean, two eggs, two bacon, two sausage, hash browns, AND two pancakes for a dollar fucking ninety-nine? Like you seriously would have to be out of your mind to order anything else.

We ARE like pretty much out of our minds right now, and we still have the wherewithal to order $1.99s.”

Beanstock stopped talking. Marcus was tagging with an orange crayon 18

on a kid’s connect-the-dot dinosaur coloring sheet, not bothering to put the extinct creature back together.

Stevie was sleeping or pretending to sleep.

Back at Denies. A circularity; returned but forever changed and all that.

“Hey, you guys hear there was a rave on 90210?” Marcus asked without looking up.

“Pretty wack,” I said.

“Yeah, not kicked,” said Beanstock.

We had all “heard” about it.

The waitress with frizzy brown hair and a thin film of off-colored makeup floating on her face was looking at us weird. Couldn’t blame her. It was 8:45 am and we were wearing huge pants and white plastic wallet chains and rainbow-

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

colored vests and towering floppy mad-hatter hats and we were filthy and, minus Stevie, soaked in blood, looking all stricken and pale and like we had definitely just got done doing a shit-ton of drugs.

It was probably mostly the blood, really. We sat staring under the bright lights; the colors oversaturated and overwhelming. A nice looking family of black Churchgoers in frilly hats and gleaming purple suits was looking at us and talking in hushed tones. We ate, and they ate too.

Epilogue (Stevie’s Section: back at 9:35 pm, but generally out of the space-time continuum, so that doesn’t really matter, anyways) In Beanstock’s parents’ American boat —“The Bue-ee”—floating as if powered by black magic, floating through the night like they were sailing an endless oil slick, Stevie was

lightheaded with the smell of the red leather couches, plump and stitched like diner booths, and he felt the weight and warmth of the shoulders pressing in on him, supporting him like bookends, and he felt as infinite and expansive as the shelf-full of atlases, the ones in his father’s basement study, the ones he wasn’t allowed to touch.

Submarining through the streets, now, the lights of LA like outer space and his friends’ hair smelling sweet and bright, a fuzzy stethoscope heart beat of bass buzzing through the blown speakers, a pipe punched out with a pen from a Red Delicious passed without ownership, Marcus screamed and then they all screamed a teenage battle-cry and they drove and drove and the street lamps were like stars and the neon like passing galaxies and they took the turns so that the centrifugal force fused them at one end, and when they did this at a roundabout they took it three times

and Stevie let his eyes go closed and they let their bodies go all the way over like sea-plants in a big black sea, pushed by unseen currents, and the car was still, was the center, and it was the world that moved.

They were on their way, come what may.

Into That Good Night “After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.”

– Albus Dumbledore Death with dignity is probably my #1 social cause, but in many ways I’ve been passive about it. When Brittany Maynard’s recent planned passing made the news, it gave my inertia a much-needed kick in the butt.

I’m not trying to sound brave or edgy or dark by talking about this. It’s an integral part of life, like breathing air or having a head… so I don’t know why our society is so fucking weird about it. We take essential, unavoidable functions like sex and eating and death and mutate each of them into these big festering messes nobody’s comfortable with, then call ourselves superior to “less-intelligent” beings.

The ability to understand them is totally there, if we can just work around the sloppy stigma ladled on top.

I’ve witnessed death and its aftermath quite a few times by now, both human and otherwise.

Sudden death or terminal illness is, to me, the textbook definition of trauma: one minute your loved one seems fine, the next they’re on the ground, lifeless or unresponsive.

Horrifying though it is, that beats helplessly watching a person die by inches, gently or overtly losing the qualities that made them first a personality, then a living being.

If a fight for life is warranted, then hell yeah—throw down! But there can come a point where the fight is just not doing anyone

(except maybe high-level healthcare providers and those who don’t like icky unpleasant events) a shit bit of good. Those who believe in “life at all costs” are often, but not always, the same people who hard-sell their version of The Truth about what comes next after we’re done here. So if the realm that awaits is so glorious, why do they have the hardest time with righthere, right-now death? A related sentiment I seriously don’t get is the insistence that the right-to-die concept is playing God. Whoa, wait… allowing nature to take its course is “playing God,” but keeping a body functioning solely by inserted machines and chemicals somehow isn’t?? There’s a big steaming pile of egregiously faulty logic.

We’ve had The Talk in our family, and know each other’s wishes. It’s highly unlikely any of our passings will give rise to cyclone fences stuffed with bouquets or tacky memorial car decals in all-caps Gothic script, for which we’re each deeply grateful. The important part is that the loved one is either fighting or free according to their wishes, and that the others can ensure those wishes are honored.

Going by my family history, longevity isn’t in the cards for me. That in itself is fine; what scares me is *how* it might happen. I’m going to have a say in that “how,” hopefully with a measure of the clarity and dignity Brittany displayed in her last days.

Consider the Platypus

by Mona Treme

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SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014

by logan kruidenier logankruidenier.tumblr.com

November 17 – By Koz McKev Aries

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Leo

Virgo

You can breathe a sigh of relief this week. Much of last week’s tension is lifting. Mars continues to motivate you to be a leader. You’ve learned to change the definition of what career and leadership mean. There is no shame in getting help from others.

Saturday’s new moon takes you to a place of exotic tastes,smells, and sights. Find newness in the ordinary and the mundane. Be ready to travel more. Educational opportunities are likely to come up. From all you’ve been through, you are now ready to take on a more philosophical view of life.

Venus has moved into your eighth house. We confront the obstacles that keep us from our true source of power. The sun continues in our seventh house till Saturday turning our focus from togetherness to transformation. You still have a good ability to negotiate with others. There is a sense of adventure and risk taking with Mars transiting your ninth house. The new moon brings a chance for you to improve your own psychic energy. You are extra aware of who you are in debt to. Allow other people to help you.

Let go of things that no longer work.

Be aware of the tasks in front of you.

There are many challenges that you are confronted with. Relationship issues are likely to be sweeter with Venus in your seventh house. You begin the week on a playful note.

You’ll need to spend some time getting organized once the weekend hits. Saturday’s new moon puts you in a place where contracts, negotiations and romance are more likely to take place. Be aware of how you present yourself to others. There may be a little less work and a little more flirting. Are you an ideal soul mate?

These are the last good several days to work on your creative edge. Your imagination is rich and bubbling over with ideas. Seek a plan to make things more efficient for yourself.

Your mantra shall be “love what you do, and do what you love.” The new moon this weekend is about providing services, working with a charitable cause or dealing with personal health issues. From here on out it’s about getting organized and accomplishing the tasks at hand.

Thursday and Friday are your best days for opening your heart and giving into love.

You’re moving out of insular family situations to soul satisfying projects this week. Begin the week by gathering information. Move to dealing with the family situations that you’ve been dealing with. Things overall have been getting better with Venus now transiting your fifth house of love and playfulness. By the weekend the new moon in your fifth house helps you to open your heart and engage more in creative expression. From here on out you’ll be enjoying more playfulness, seeing love at every turn. Giving and living become more fun.

Communication issues continue to dominate most of this week.

You begin the week by trying to find a voice. As the week continues you’re likely to have more spontaneous meetings with neighbors and friends. A sharing of information takes place. You’ve had to deal with short trips and long conversations. On Saturday with the new moon the focus moves on to older relatives, your domestic situation, and gathering the people that you consider tribe. Be in touch with history, particularly the history of your ancestors.

Libra

Scorpio

Sagittarius

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

We develop values that seem to change over time. The past several weeks had everything to do with finances, food, listening, talking and perhaps having dental work done. Venus moved into your third house bringing a renewed interest in friends, artistic hobbies and catching up on the latest news. The moon will be in Libra late Monday morning through most of Wednesday. People come back appreciating each other.

The new moon gets you more in touch with the local environment.

Your curiosity and courage is activated.

Thus begins the final five days of the sun transiting Scorpio. You begin the week perhaps a little too spent from the previous weekend.

By late Wednesday night the moon enters Scorpio. It’s best to solidify the plans you’ve made and then to act on them. Play it smart as you are conscious as to what you can accomplish. The new moon in your second house puts an emphasis on values, resources, speech and appetite. Money may begin to flow more freely. You may feel a little less pressure. Think in terms of needs over luxuries.

If you can get through these last few days of the sun transiting your 12th house then you will be rewarded.

This weekend the sun and moon join Venus in your first house for a big party. You already have the reputation for being quite a celebrator.

Be conscious as to where you want to put your energy in the next solar year. Risk taking tends to be to your advantage this year. Step out on your own terms. Be the sort of positive person that others would want to follow. Take a group of friends on some sort of adventure.

The image I’m getting is the scene in Star Wars where Darth Vader and Obi-Wan Kenobi are battling with their lightsabers. You are both Vader and Obi-Wan put together. It’s up to you as to whether or not you go to the dark side. Good friends still dominate the first part of the week. By the weekend you’ll need to deal with personal karma both good and bad.

Fortunately for you the possibility of things going well is excellent. Don’t be too overconfident. It’s easy for us humans to be part of our own undoing during a twelfth house transit.

Your talents and skills have dominated much of the last few weeks.

Ideas come to you and you’ve been able to act upon them.

Responsibility and leading to a better public image has rested squarely on your shoulders. This weekend a major shift takes place and the good times begin for you. Be prepared to bring something nice to the party.

The new moon brings a helpful friends, social invitations, and ways to improve things. Do things that your future self will thank you for.

Make some new friends.

Taking the time to discover a higher path and calling for yourself has been worthwhile. Your luck is high.

Keep on elevating everyone around you. Happy people are easier to work with. Thursday and Friday are especially lucky for you. The new moon on Saturday brings you into a position of leadership. You’ll find yourself more in the public eye in the coming weeks. Do what you can to elevate yourself in your career. You do good work as a compassionate leader. Your broad vision is getting a good reception.

Koz McKev is on YouTube, on cable 11 BCTV and is heard on 90.1FM KZFR Chico. Also available by appointment for personal horoscopes call (530)891-5147 or e-mail kozmickev@sunset.net

GREAT SHORT STORIES

Lotus Land, written by local writer William Wong Foey Local writer William Wong Foey author of best selling novel: Winter Melon releases his new book Lotus Land, a short story collection of bold and amazing stories of desire, despair, courage, and redemption. Available at Lyon’s Book Store at 135 Main (Chico) and in paperback & e-book at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, & Direct Music Cafe.

A special thanks to all the people who purchased my debut novel: Winter Melon.

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SILLIER STILL The capitalists swept into office, and the Chico Silly Council is about to be sillier than ever.

The exploiters must be licking their lips.

I bet we’re gonna see higher parking rates, and then they’ll find a way to build another parking structure and eliminate the Green Line and screw the Farmers’ Market and raise the height restriction and turn us into Reno.

Watch and see.

see all of the Council’s expenses online every month. That’s not hard to do. I also want to know where the Council members live, not their addresses, although that ought to be public information and probably is. I just want to know in what part of town they live. Does any Council member live in Chapmantown? In Barber? Downtown? Why is that?

As staunch capitalists, the Silly Council majority is bound to look for ways to get other capitalists to bring holy capital to Chico, where the Silly Council members can at least smell it. There’ll be tax incentives all over the place. The deals are in the air.

First, we’ll be lucky if we don’t end up with a permanent swat team downtown to find parking for Zucchini & Vine’s suckers. There’ll be no sitting except at new metered benches.

For a quarter you can sit for fifteen minutes, then steel bands will pop out and hold you until another quarter is inserted in the slot, which you now can’t reach.

We’ll no doubt get more cops, and I bet they won’t be professional social workers—which they totally should be—and will instead be poorly trained and ill-suited to dealing with people in extremis. They may also be privately paid for and directed.

I don’t expect transparency in city government, although we deserve it. I’d like to

Poor people are gonna have to suck it, as always, because most of the Silly Council don’t know from poor and don’t care. The way Sean Morgan feels about feeding the hungry—and perhaps the other extremes of Jesus of Nazareth—the homeless are in for a hard winter in these parts. A fresh crop of ordinances is just around the corner. Do not sit down. Do not dare to lie down. Don’t eat, either. Maybe we could hire the homeless to police the homeless. They’d probably work cheap, and capitalists like that.

From The Edge

by Anthony Peyton Porter A@anthonypeytonporter.com

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SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM NOVEMBER 17 2014