The league may be out of the glass closet, but fans are more obsessed than ever with cracking the sapphic code.
Thinking more about Temescal Pool, a place where you can think less.
In Ellen Huet’s “Empire of Orgasm,” growth is the real cult we meet along the way (and no one is immune to being touched by the spectacle).
Sax and Pole at Eli's Mile High Club, after fifty years of Oakland's sound, and more.
It was 2015. Something was shifting in the tech industry, and I felt it in the bedroom.
Theodore Gordon's “The Composer’s Black Box: Making Music in Cybernetic America,” unboxed.
How the Threshold Singers of the East Bay create soundscapes for the end of life.
A playlist.
The screeching moral panic over the sideshow hides what it really is: an event, shaped by cops and capital flight, where Oakland youth fight for a place to play.
A collection of 13 Proximitivist installations TKTKTKT something from Benjamin about Aesthetics and Politics.
ORB
Where there's no trash island there.
A return to the lake’s original state would mean dismantling the city of Oakland itself. Do we want to see the monster?
Around the sun, around the bay, the day after the Spring Equinox
A not-too-short love letter to “a love letter to 1980s Oakland.”
See us, hear us, touch us, smell us, taste us, vibe with us!
ORB
A Feather and a Fork Book Launch, Intertribal Friendship House, Last Tuesday
What happens when we say, “When it finally happens...”
Wallace Shawn's caustic monologue about capitalism and complicity gets an ingenious staging at Clio's Books.
Berkeley Copwatch Flock Bike Tour, South Berkeley / North Oakland, Sunday
ORB
The fast-talking commentator was once everywhere: TV, radio, the internet. Then he was hardly anywhere at all. Then he was almost dead.
Chris Thile shocks and awes in Berkeley as a new war dawns in Iran.
Searching for the East Bay in the Epstein files so you don't have to.
Language, poet, ’68, tank top, Negra Modelo.
ORB
The vibes at “The Tallest Dwarf,” Hipline, January 31st
More books should be like Frank T. Marquardt's “Hop Fight,” and, swear to god, we'd say that even if he weren't a paying member of this site.