Beyond Vegemite

Philanthropist Philip Wollen, vegetarian and builder of orphanages, is crying out that the global meat industry is not only unsustainable but unethical. “The earth can produce enough food for everyone’s need,” says Wollen, “but not enough for everyone’s greed.”

Is eating meat a form of greed? There are plenty of ecological and health-related arguments against the consumption of meat. But the moral argument is coming loudly from Wollen, an Australian who, in a conservative suit that recalls his former career as a Citibank executive, steps up to any podium and advocates interspecies equality.

Before a TEDxMelbourne audience this year, Wollen’s provocative, anti-meat speech quoted Shakespeare’s King Lear, where the blind Gloucester advises the king to see the world “feelingly.” Wollen certainly does. And he wants people to be made uncomfortable by his talk-related photos: a starving infant in a country where croplands are dedicated to raising grain for Western livestock, juxtaposed with a steak that’s larger than the baby; the suspended carcass of a large dog, freshly skinned; a bleeding seal pup; and a harbor red with whale blood. “I discovered that when we suffer, we suffer as equals,” says Wollen. “And in their capacity to suffer, a dog is a pig is a bear is a boy.”

Wollen’s difficult-to-digest message includes environmental statistics on the impact on water resources, which are diminishing as the population expands—in numbers as well as pounds per Western individual. “Vegetarian cows,” Wollen claims, are “ocean predators,” a reference to the pollution caused by nitrate runoff and sedimentation from deforestation to create croplands, among other water-polluting industry practices.

At the same time the planet is losing drinking water, aquifer depletion has been worsened by cattle ranching. “It takes 50 thousand liters of water,” says Wollen, “to produce one kilo of beef.”

Wollen’s ultimate plea, however, is not environmental but humanitarian; he wants to end suffering caused by starvation. Reducing our Western meat consumption by 10 percent will reduce hunger for millions, he claims, and taking meat off the menu altogether will “end starvation forever.” Wollen asks the audience whether it’s worth it to us that people are starving so that we can eat a steak.

Vegetarians, by Wollen’s calculations, number more than 600 million people. “That’s more than the United States, England, France, Spain, Germany, Canada, Australia and New Zealand combined,” says Wollen. “If they were one nation, they would be bigger than the 27 nations that make up the European Union.” Yet Wollen claims vegetarians remain unheard.

What isn’t going unheard, clearly, is Wollen and his going-viral speech.

Even More Slain

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Heated rhetoric about guns has been rampant since the killing of 20 first graders and six adults at Sandy Hook Elementary School on Dec. 14. None of these comments are more mind-blowing than those calling for even less gun control. Case in point: Rep. Dennis Richardson, of Oregon, who sent an email to local superintendents making the astounding claim that if teachers at Sandy Hook had been armed, then “most of the murdered children would still be alive.”

As a former high school teacher, the idea of having to keep a gun in my classroom to keep my students safe is incomprehensible. How about, instead, we make it impossible for a disturbed individual like Adam Lanza to get his hands on a semiautomatic Bushmaster .223 rifle, a gun with the capacity to fire dozens of high-velocity rounds in the course of just a few minutes; a military-style gun legally registered to Adam Lanza’s gun-enthusiast mother; a gun produced by a company whose corporate parent is Freedom Group, owned by New York–based hedge fund Cerberus Capital Management, firm supporters of the Second Amendment—the same company that used this ad slogan for the Bushmaster: “Consider your man card reissued.”

Rather than demanding that teachers pack heat, government representatives should reinstate the Federal Assault Weapons Ban, which expired in 2004 and still hasn’t reached the floor for a renewal vote. How about if the government made it illegal for Walmart to sell these weapons to the public?

“Our hearts our broken today,” said President Obama on Friday. But more hearts will be broken unless the United States, as a society, a nation and a government, thoroughly questions the toll of a constantly growing arsenal of weapons and the association of guns with masculinity and empowerment as normal and acceptable. Whether we’re talking about 20 children in Connecticut or 176 children killed since 2004 in Pakistan by American (and Obama-sanctioned) drones, a dead child is a dead child. The ability to kill anyone at anytime should not be the ultimate signifier of “freedom.”

Leilani Clark is a staff writer.

We welcome your contribution. To have your topical essay of 350 words considered for publication, write op*****@******an.com.

Funk the World

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When they build Mt. Funkmore in Cincinnati, Ohio, Bootsy Collins will be one of its smiling faces. The latest album from the famed Parliament-Funkadelic and James Brown bassist, Tha Funk Capital of the World, is a star-studded tour de funk, a 17-song marathon showing the world how it’s still done.

Bootsy’s music is the definition of a good time, and it’s lyrically tinged with social commentary. “You know yesterday’s trash could very well be tomorrow’s fuel,” he says, possibly in a Back to the Future reference, on “Freedumb,” which features Cornel West. “And yesterday’s prisons could very well be tomorrow’s schools.”

Musicians and actors make appearances in spots, and Bay Area shredder Buckethead rips it up on a few songs, one of which seems particularly tailored to his dark, haunting, melancholy style. Unfortunately, he doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of the album, while most other guests blend in with Bootsy’s crazy jams just fine.

In fact, spoken-word tracks make up a sizable bulk of the record. Samuel L. Jackson tells a story about growing up in Los Angeles and being a kid with music always around him; it’s not very interesting, but Jackson speaks so musically it doesn’t matter what he says. Snoop Dogg is in this category as well, and does his thing for half a song, saying nothing of consequence but sounding awesome doing it. The most unexpected guest star is banjo master Bela Fleck, plucking away on the R&B groove “If Looks Could Kill” with MC ZionPlanet-10 and drummer Dennis Chambers.

There are several tributes on the album. George Duke and Ron Carter combine the swing of jazz with a dance beat groove on “The Jazz Greats (A Tribute to Jazz).” George Clinton and Linda Shider appear on “Garry Shider Tribute.” And on “JB–Still the Man,” the Rev. Al Sharpton orates for two minutes about James Brown while some of the funkiest grooves this side of the Chocolate Nebula set the scene. “He changed music as we know it,” says the Reverend. “He changed the beat from a two-four to a one-three. He taught the world to be on the one.”

“The one” is a prevailing message throughout the album, referring to the musical term denoting the beginning (or, in this case, also the end) of a beat. Considering the reverence with which Bootsy speaks of the idea, though, it feels like more than just music. It feels like a spiritual message. It feels like an existential idea. And it’s all wrapped in star-shaped sunglasses and sparkly pants.

Chicken and Pie, Hidy Ho!

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Food and Wine magazine just released its list of the ‘Best Fried Chicken in the U.S.’ (Momofuko Noodle Bar in New York City made the cut), but Santa Rosa recently got its own, albeit temporary, shot at the best fried chicken around, with the opening of pop-up restaurant Butcher & Cook. From now until Feb. 3, Fridays at Omelette Express belong to chef John Lyle and butcher Berry Salinas, who’ve been given free reign in the kitchen and dining area to serve their old-school, fried-to-perfection chicken meals.

According to Butcher & Cook’s Facebook page, $5 of every whole chicken sold is donated to charity. A fixed menu includes fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, collard greens, coleslaw, biscuits and a revolving door of desserts, varying from sweet potato pie to apple crisp. Lyle, the cook behind the recent “Chosen Spot” farm dinners, which highlighted creations that came out of Luther Burbank’s experimental gardens, is dedicated to using fresh, Sonoma County-grown ingredients in the meals. A full supper feeds four and includes eight pieces of chicken, three sides, four biscuits and half a pie ($58). A half supper feeds two and, obviously, includes less pie ($35). Pre-orders are available by phone or online, for both takeout and dine-in. Butcher & Cook is open every Friday evening until Feb. 3, 5-8pm. 112 Fourth St., Santa Rosa. 707.205.6695.

Letters to the Editor: December 18, 2012

Paying Fair

Thanks for a great story on a very important topic (“Pinot, Poverty and Politics,” Dec. 12). Keeping in mind that with the shockingly low wages for picking grapes, and the fact that many of these workers are exploited and endangered with poor working conditions, lack of adequate shade and water and few job protections, another solution to the lack of low income housing is the use of union jobs and union contracts which bring with them a voice at work, safety standards, healthcare and decent wages.

Paying good middle-class wages is the best way to allow people to afford housing, so they don’t have to live three or four families to an apartment or drive two hours to get to work. The people and especially the wine growers in Napa can’t complain about low-income housing if they don’t pay living wages. If they aren’t willing to pay decent wages, they should be building housing that workers can afford. They can’t count on taxpayers to subsidize the wine industry with roads, schools, housing and infrastructure while they make huge profits by exploiting workers.

Santa Rosa

Where’s My Stuff?

Uh . . . are you sure you, or someone else, isn’t putting us on? (“This Modern Retort,” Dec. 12.) I mean . . . Ken Stout, the grumbling, racist, would-be McDonald’s french-fry chef from the San Jose area (Milpitas?). It’s very tempting to explain to this guy that there may be other reasons than reverse racism for the fast-food industry not rushing to get him on the payroll, but I’m pretty sure other Bohemian readers have already taken care of this. Hopefully, someone will have sent his retort to Bill O’Reilly. Who will ever forget Bill’s dark and dank Irish pout, explaining to the world how all those terrible nonwhite Americans are in it for the “stuff”? Hey, listen, I’m half-Italian. So where’s my stuff? I refuse to be mixed in with traditional white people.

Anyway, my message to Ken is, try Burger King, dude.

Forestville

Tomorrow’s Wit

Please tell me you were playing a prank on your readers with last week’s open mic, “This Modern Retort.” I had to check the calendar to make sure it wasn’t April Fools’ Day.

Much as I would love to remain in denial that one of your “white, male” readers would get so defensive about Tom Tomorrow’s brilliant wit, I must concede that these backward views on race and sex still exist. Please, Mr. Stout, get out from your unnecessary defensive shield and understand that this country/world is still controlled by white males and their many unwitting enablers. Look at the faces of those in control in the dominant culture to understand where change is needed.

If you are an inclusive human being, that will be noted and understood by those working hard for equality and toward a more inclusive world. There is no need to convince anyone, as your actions speak the loudest. The destructive policies of inequality from racism, sexism and classism stem from the power relationships in this country/world. Come join us in doing the hard work to overcome these dynamics, and save us the misguided self-promotion.

Camp Meeker

For the Love of Taxes

The letter “Jets to Sonoma” by Barbara Coole (“Rhapsodies and Rants,” Nov. 28) makes the unfounded statement that the Sonoma County Airport improvement comes from “taxpayer pockets.” The fact is that the FAA pays 95 percent and Sonoma County Airport pays 5 percent. The FAA money comes in large part from the tax on aviation fuel, and private jets pay a lot of that.

Santa Rosa

Write to us at le*****@******an.com.

Our Back Pages

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The pain of band reunions, so incessant and unrelenting in their frequency in the last 10 years, is that they pose as tremendously necessary. Never mind that they might be entertaining, no, no. That’s not the point. These are REALLY BIG EVENTS. I mean, really, it’s been ALMOST EIGHT YEARS since ALL FOUR MEMBERS of LETTERS TO CLEO played together, OH MY GOD tickets go on sale TOMORROW!

When announcements like this arrive every week, and when the time retroactive to the band breaking up in the first place to their inevitable cash-in reunion gets shorter and shorter, you’re allowed to get weary. You’re allowed to grumble about too many band reunions and bemoan our culture’s attachment to the past and pine for a future that really looks, smells and sounds like the future instead of Refused reuniting to play at Coachella for $315.

But then there are the completely improbable band reunions. The bands for which there is very little call to perform once more in public. The bands that elicit barely a Google search result, because they are more obscure than even Tripping Daisy or Suddenly, Tammy!

I am a fan of these stupid reunions, these culturally irrelevant occurrences. Consider this weekend’s resurrection of Coffee & Donuts, an unclassifiable band who played every Sonoma County skate party from 1988 to 1991. The people who remember Coffee & Donuts are one of three types: (1) cheap-beer-swilling forty-somethings in denim Jaks jackets; (2) local music nerds who work at record stores or write for alt-weeklies; or (3) the band members themselves, maybe.

And yet Coffee & Donuts are an integral part of the early-’90s Sonoma County musical quilt, one that blankets jazz, punk and psychedelia. Their legacy exists only on one out-of-print compilation and a muffled, endlessly dubbed practice cassette; their reunion is a history lesson, a chance to fill in the gaps. Likewise for the Louies, a funk juggernaut that’s got no recordings out there. Throw in reunions by local 1990s bands Punch the Clown, Jr. Anti-Sex League, Edaline, Headboard and Seven-Year Winter, and you’ve got Nostalgia Fest 2012—headlined by the almighty Victims Family.

There have been three of these Nostalgia Fests, all benefiting good causes. This year, proceeds go to the newborn son of Tony Evjenth, a well-loved skater and team manager who died suddenly last year. Add it all up, and, yes, it’s a really big event.

Book of Samuel

Quentin Tarantino uses the ’50s version of the Columbia lady in his pre-titles to Django Unchained, but the film exceeds both the length and bounds of the Western movie/ slaveploitationers Tarantino is raiding, whether low and grimy (like 1971’s Goodbye Uncle Tom) or high-budget and De Laurentiis–produced (like 1975’s Mandingo).

Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) is a dentist-turned-gunslinger, practicing his trade at the end of the 1850s. In Texas, he liberates the slave Django (Jamie Foxx) for the practical reason that the shackled man can lead him to a trio of criminals hiding on a plantation. Django takes to the killing work with ease—”Shootin’ white folks, what’s not to like?”—and has a mission of his own: his wife (Kerry Washington) has been sold down the river by a cruel master (Bruce Dern). She’s languishing on “the fourth biggest plantation in Mississippi,” a place known as Candyland, operated by the disgusting Calvin J. Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio). To infiltrate the place, Django will pose as a free black slaveholder seeking to buy bare-knuckle-fighting Mandingos.

Waltz’s Dr. King (an odd joke, considering what the real MLK thought of violence) delivers speeches that are a handsome apology for the potential anti-Germanness of Inglourious Basterds. Schultz, practically a one-man Goethe Society, reaches for his culture as often as he reaches for his revolver, and Foxx’s heavyweight glare is tempered with yearning.

But it’s Samuel L. Jackson who catalyzes everything Tarantino has to say about slavery. Jackson is the second-highest grossing actor of all time by some measures. Much of what filled his wallet, he earned with “bad motherfucker” parts. Jackson is made for Candyland.

Every white liberal who flinches at seeing an Uncle Ben rice box will get that sting watching Jackson as “Stephen,” the house man at Candyland. The role of “porch negro” would be a deal-breaker for most black actors, particularly in a movie that’s primarily a comedy, so it’s a tribute to Jackson’s taste for risk-taking that he went for it.

It’s one thing to imagine being whipped and branded—some people do that kind of thing for fun—but what Jackson gets at is a lot dirtier, eerier and harder to countenance. He shows us the corrosion of a man who has to pretend to be a pet, wriggling with gratitude, putting on a show of human warpage that only white people grown stupid and lazy from the slaveholder’s life wouldn’t suss out.

Jackson demonstrates the rage that everyone loves, with a counterbalance of implosion, as he stumps around pretending to be kindly and dotty. If it’s foolery, it’s the kind of fooling that goes on in King Lear. This is the performance of Jackson’s career.

‘Django Unchained’ opens in wide release on Christmas Day.

25 Days Project: Fatty’s Threads

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Fattys.jpg

When you get down to it, Fatty’s Threads is probably the best store in all of Sonoma County. Fatty’s carries clothes, books, stereo equipment, baseball cards, magazines, tools, chewing gum, appliances, DVDs, posters, bicycles, sporting equipment, cleaning products, art supplies, model cars, records, patio furniture, toys and more, but calling it a “junk shop” doesn’t to it justice. Truly a neighborhood hub, it’s also a meet-up place, a treasure hunt, a trapeze act, a history lesson, a loan department and a museum of oddities. I’ve always been drawn to these kinds of stores, where the proprietors are usually cranky and condescending. Then there’s Dave Puccetti, the truly friendly ringleader of Fatty’s who acts more like a really great bartender than a store owner—doling out advice, helping out those down on their luck, giving opinions when asked and quoting you prices way below what you expected to pay. A full Atari 2600 system, from 1983, with joysticks, adapters and 30 game cartridges for just $25? Yes, it’s that kind of shop. I almost feel bad letting the secret out after 10 years, because the eBayers will be all over this place, but Dave is so great and the store is so chock-full of great finds—just go there and see for yourself. 1290 Sebastopol Road, Santa Rosa, 707.578.6916.

The 25 Days Project is an online series through the month of December spotlighting some of our favorite local businesses. Read more about the project here, and about our commitment to shopping locally here.

Live Review: Snoop Dogg at the Uptown Theatre, Dec. 14

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Photo by Jacques Law

As we approached the sold-out Snoop Dogg show at the Uptown Theatre in Napa, I played a little game called “What did Snoop Dogg do with his day in the wine country?” Did he go wine-tasting at fancy wineries owned by out-of-town hedge fund investors? Did he get a salt rubdown at a luxuriously expensive spa? Did he spend the day smoking weed in his hotel room and ordering out from some five-star restaurant serving rustic California cuisine in Saint Helena?
Once the show started (and the painfully loud bass of opening act Pac Div came to a merciful end), I realized that what Snoop Dogg (not a Lion in sight) brought to Napa was the feeling of a good, old-fashioned, backyard, Southern California summer BBQ on one of the coldest days yet in 2012. The crowd was flying high (literally) and it was party-time, Long Beach loving vibes all around, as Snoop blasted through a medley of his greatest hits like ‘Who Am I,’ with its Parliament vibes, LBC call outs, and the classic refrain, ‘Bow wow wow yippie yo yippie yay.’ After that, he busted out some lesser known hits followed by ‘Gin and Juice,’ ‘Drop It Like It’s Hot,’ ‘Still a G Thang,’ and a two minute cameo from Katy Perry’s sickly sweet confection  ‘California Gurls.’
Underneath a massive banner emblazoned with an image of a rasta-tammed, super high, grinning-to-the- moon Snoop surrounded by weed leaves and joints, Snoop let his crew take the lead on quite a few songs, and left the goofy entertainment mainly to Nasty Dogg, a furry mascot that carried a gigantic cartoon blunt around the stage for most of the show, when he wasn’t waving a giant furry dildo at the audience (a woman in the audience mimicked a blow job on it for such an uncomfortably long time that even Snoop seemed to be blushing—Napa gets crazzeeeeeeee!) Shout-outs to Nate Dogg happened about every five minutes, and even though I was hoping to go into labor (nothing like being eight months pregnant at a Snoop show) while the lanky hip-hop gangster turned rastafarian played his hit, ‘Beautiful,’ my dream didn’t come true because he skipped it all together (guess it’s hard to pull off without Pharrell) and never took the stage for an encore. Despite wearing a beige prison garb outfit with rasta colors on the pocket, Snoop’s only reference to his newly embraced religion came at the very end of the show, when he shouted out Haile Selassie and gave a voracious “Jah Rastafarianism!” ( a move that only slightly recalled Andy Samberg’s Ras Trent), followed by Bob Marley on the stereo system.
Photo by Jacques Law

The decision to end the show with “Young, Wild and Free” Snoop’s hit with protege Wiz Khalifa and Bruno Mars was straight out of the best practices playbook. We ate it up, dancing, singing along, feeling like kids again while the puffs of smoke lifted up like magic clouds into the rafters. It was a feel-good, life-affirming moment in a day that will go down as one of the most tragic days in modern American history, and we enjoyed each and every blessed second of it.

25 Days Project: The Toyworks

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toyworks.jpg

I’d already picked up a small chocolate cake and candles, but I knew that I needed something more. Something special. It was, after all, my daughter’s very first birthday. As a new dad, I was clueless as to what to get, but knew just where to go: The Toyworks. “Does she have a doll?” the woman asked, plain as day, after I presented my dilemma. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Under $20 later, I’d found the perfect doll in a little pink dress inside a big pink box. I had to be home in 10 minutes, and what to wrap it in? Alas, you never truly appreciate free gift wrapping until you really, really need it, and the Toyworks had me on my way home with an attractive, free wrapping job and a big red ribbon to boot. I’ll never forget riding home that day on my scooter, partially because I had to put the big present under my feet and I’m sure I looked silly. But as I rode down E Street, ready to put a huge smile on a beautiful little girl’s face, I was the proudest dad in the world. 531 College Ave., Santa Rosa, 707.526.2099; 6940 Sebastopol Ave., Sebastopol, 707.829.2003.

The 25 Days Project is an online series through the month of December spotlighting some of our favorite local businesses. Read more about the project here, and about our commitment to shopping locally here.

Beyond Vegemite

Moral thunder from down under

Even More Slain

In the wake of Sandy Hook, it's time to stop talking and start acting

Funk the World

Bootsy Collins still showing us how to have a good time

Chicken and Pie, Hidy Ho!

Food and Wine magazine just released its list of the 'Best Fried Chicken in the U.S.' (Momofuko Noodle Bar in New York City made the cut), but Santa Rosa recently got its own, albeit temporary, shot at the best fried chicken around, with the opening of pop-up restaurant Butcher & Cook. From now until Feb. 3, Fridays at Omelette...

Letters to the Editor: December 18, 2012

Letters to the Editor: December 18, 2012

Our Back Pages

Nostalgia Fest, the improbable-reunion franchise

Book of Samuel

Samuel Jackson incredible in 'Django Unchained'

25 Days Project: Fatty’s Threads

When you get down to it, Fatty’s Threads is probably the best store in all of Sonoma County. Fatty’s carries clothes, books, stereo equipment, baseball cards, magazines, tools, chewing gum, appliances, DVDs, posters, bicycles, sporting equipment, cleaning products, art supplies, model cars, records, patio furniture, toys and more, but calling it a “junk shop” doesn’t to it justice. Truly...

Live Review: Snoop Dogg at the Uptown Theatre, Dec. 14

As we approached the sold-out Snoop Dogg show at the Uptown Theatre in Napa, I played a little game called "What did Snoop Dogg do with his day in the wine country?" Did he go wine-tasting at fancy wineries owned by out-of-town hedge fund investors? Did he get a salt rubdown at a luxuriously expensive spa? Did he spend...

25 Days Project: The Toyworks

I’d already picked up a small chocolate cake and candles, but I knew that I needed something more. Something special. It was, after all, my daughter’s very first birthday. As a new dad, I was clueless as to what to get, but knew just where to go: The Toyworks. “Does she have a doll?” the woman asked, plain as...
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