Stephen Torres - Threadbare-Fact Finder (Editor, San Francisco)
Pride 2016 may be one of the most important in recent memory. Out of the tragedy of Orlando, a wave of solidarity has spread across the world and it has galvanized our community to respond with love, to speak out against our culture of violence, stand with our Latinx, Muslim,
My mother had called me this past Sunday morning to inform me of the incomprehensible horror we all woke up to: 49 people had been mowed down in a gay bar in Orlando, with 53 brutally injured. In the hours that followed, as I read updates and watched report after
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The Children’s After School Arts program at Rooftop Elementary has long been a jewel famous amongst San Franciscans, but when their annual production caught the attention of NPR’s Ira Glass last year, their challenging and radical productions depicting socio-economic challenges facing kids today started conversations in households across the nation.
This town was once coined as the “cool, grey city of love” and yet, every day one wakes up to yet another action that would contradict that sentiment: a young man blown away by trigger happy police, waterlogged shanty towns under the freeway, a capricious mayor threatening to slash city
As we’ve often surmised before, a quick glance at San Francisco on any given day is essentially an inventory of things we’ve lost. Sure, the legacy business closures and demolitions are reams long, but even longer and more crushing is the list of citizens expunged by either economic or even lethal force.
My last day in the DF and, like so many mornings in this town, my eyes open to a criminal hangover. This cruda is beyond, and, suddenly, the cantina hopping and hanging in Toms Leather Bar until 4 am seem less legitimate without the strength of Ron Bacardi’s fortified
The weather has been indecisive since the day I arrived and today is no different. Heavy oversaturated thunderheads lean on the craggy edges of El Mordor: Mexico City. I’m not sure if it’s lightning I see in the corner of my eye, or my espantos arriving uncharacteristically early. Still, no
Nite Owl My head is pounding. I’d gone straight from work, to the gym, to yet another hijacked political meeting and finally a rather awkward, albeit surrealistically humorous event entitled San Francisco Political Squares. It was cute, well constructed and everyone was trying their damndest to channel Paul Lynde (or