For families and friends of the 36 Ghost Ship Fire victims, the road to justice has been long and fraught with disappointment. A surprise ruling made Friday tipped the scale and offered those grieving a small sigh of relief, but that relief may be short-lived. Here, we dig into the
Sorry for the delay in this week’s news wrap, but without further ado, here’s your week of California burning, Berkeley’s weekend rally and fallout, courtroom updates and some weird shit to do with Burners on your day off. Berkeley rally: public versus the police The result of Sunday’s much anticipated
Unless you’ve been living in captivity in the glaciers of Antarctica for the last decade or so, you have a Facebook account. Hell, I’ll be sharing this very article on Facebook within 24 hours, I’m sure. You probably also know that it is one of the richest companies on the
Step into a world of adventure with the Oakland Beer Passport. There’s no better way to explore Oakland than to literally drink it in. The Oakland Beer Passport is amazing, you get 28 beers at 28 bars for $35. It honestly doesn’t get much better than that, unless you get one
Two sisters were attacked on BART Sunday night near the McArthur station in Oakland around 9:45 p.m., leaving one dead and one injured in a seemingly random double stabbing incident. The suspect is still at large.
The Proud Boys, everybody’s favorite Alt-Right frat boys, have planned a meet-up in Uptown Oakland tonight. According to the Southern Poverty Law Center the Proud Boys are anti-muslim misogynists, and that “rank-and-file Proud Boys and leaders regularly spout white nationalist memes and maintain affiliations with known extremists.” Don’t they just sound lovely?
The last time San Franciscans talked this much about Oakland was in 1906. The City was ablaze and 100,000 residents fled across San Francisco Bay, many never to move back to San Francisco. They say the population of Oakland doubled in roughly 72 hours.
At the beginning Animal Collective was two of them — Avey Tare and Panda Bear — banging drums and tweaking synths in their bedrooms, singing strange and sometimes heartbreaking songs about imaginary friends and childhood pets. Carried along by washes of squalling feedback, the music was noisy, and it was