High School Jobs
After-School Tutor, Twin Hills Middle School. 2000.
My first job ever was as an after-school tutor for struggling students from a year or two below me. Basically this just amounted to me sitting with them for an hour or two after school and begging them to do their homework. We were too close in age for this to really work, and our disparate social statuses (cool rebel vs. friendless dork) disqualified me from any sense of superiority I might have derived from being older than them. I don’t remember how this ended, I think I may have just stopped showing up.
Assembly Line Worker, Avalon Organics. 2002.
My girlfriend’s mom got me this job boxing soap on an assembly line for 39.5 hours a week the summer after my Sophomore year. For a white kid growing up in an affluent area, it was an eye-opening look into the largely ignored class differences in Northern California. I liked it okay, partially because I didn’t know any better, and partially because I could listen to my walkman, which I had loaded with punk rock and Noam Chomsky talks in hopes of radicalizing myself.
Server, Bohemian Grove. 2003-2005
For the small price of my dignity, self-respect, and health, I was able to work two shifts a day, 7 days a week all summer long and save enough money to buy a car. The dubious pride of being a wage slave at one of the most enigmatic and symbolically-charged institutions in the country was offset by the run-of-the-mill incompetence of the managerial staff. I once helped Joe Satriani find his suitcase, which turned out to be under a pile of guitars.
6:41 am • 27 May 2014 • 1 note
Oranienplatz, Kottbusser Tor, Leuschnerdamm Ecke Waldemarstraße, Adalbertstraße Ecke Oranienstraße, Oranienstraße, Kreuzberg, 1970-72
Roter Feuermelder und Geranien.
Der “Kotti” Ende der 60er/Anfang der 70er Jahre: Noch fehlt hier der markante NKZ-Bau. Er entsteht in den Jahren 1969 bis 1974.
Fast etwas leer wirkt die Oranienstraße, wenn man sie mit heute vergleicht.
"Red fire alarm and crane’s bills. The ‘Kotti’ at the end of the 60’s/early 70’S: the prominent NKZ-building is still not there. It was built from 1969 to 1974. Oranienstrasse appears a bit empty compared to today.
Photos: Wilfried Grunert
12:13 pm • 14 March 2014 • 19 notes
AC Transit New Era fitted cap by Upper Playground. AC Transit the Alameda Contra Costa Transit District, provides bus services throughout the Bay Area, it was the only way I traveled during high school. It has since updated it’s logo, but this is still OG.
5:14 am • 9 January 2014 • 4 notes
Top 5 weirdest symptoms to Google about
1. Earlobes missing
3. Can’t touch elbows
4. Invisible rash
5. Fingernails growing at different rates
12:05 am • 11 December 2013
Comprehensive list of things I like about winter
1. Mandarin oranges
2. No mosquitoes
3. Snow, one time
4. Beers get colder on the way home
5. New Year’s
6. Chicks in boots
5:21 am • 8 December 2013
its the hostel book exchange. since english is the most commonly understood language, those books always get taken first. it’s like a bag of jellybeans. root beer and cherry are quickly plucked away, and after a couple days you’re left with nothing but buttered popcorn and coffee. you can choose between a croatian translation of 1984, lonely planet’s guide to andalucia, and twilight book three. you decide to get some sleep instead
6:20 am • 7 December 2013 • 1 note
Brännö is an island of Gothenburg’s southern archipelago, south of the mouth of the Göta river which flows through the city. We took a day trip there. The ferry from Gothenburg churns its way through the bay’s ice-choked waters past small islands sprouting the little pointed houses that make you think of blond people and hats with horns and maybe clogs and windmills, if geography isn’t your thing.
Barren and windswept, Brännö in February is cold. I later read up on the island’s history: people had been coming to this inhospitable rock for hundreds of years. It’s mentioned in the Norse sagas as a place for holmgang, ritualized duels for the settlement of disputes, but there wasn’t really any evidence of any of that I could see. The houses didn’t even look particularly old.
Oddly, the first person we spoke to when we got off of the ferry at Brännö was an American, “born and raised in Daly City, California!” We came upon him in the midst of telling an impatient-looking photographer about the drop in sea levels that happened after the last ice age.“The water used to come up all the way over to that boat shop, he said. He indicated a nearby field containing tarp-covered objects that could indeed be boats. “Don’t make much sense to have a boat shop in the middle of an island otherwise.” She looked like she regretted asking him for directions.
There are no cars on Brännö. Pretty much just tractors and a lot of sheep. Winding footpaths snake between hedge-lined yards, the only traffic being the occasional moped piloted by one of the islanders, and large cats.
We walked through the town and out into the island’s interior, which was lightly covered in low bushes and veined by ravines. Occasionally, we crossed frozen brooks. We stopped and ate a shivering picnic on a low ridge, gulping down steaming cups of coffee from a thermos.
We continued walking and reached the opposite shore of the island, which was a frozen beach. Chunks of ice with weird, swiss-cheesy edges were piled up at the foamy waterline.
In the waning light, we made our way back through the town and to the ferry. We missed it and spent a chilly hour waiting in the boathouse on the north shore before being able to leave the island.
2:45 pm • 24 March 2013 • 1 note
Assholes in History: Giuseppe Ferlini
At some point in the late 19th century, exploration completed its transition from the imperialist mode of Cortez and Cook to the austere, scientific practice pioneered by Antarctic explorers like Robert Scott, a system still in place today. But it’s important to remember that for much of human history, to be an explorer was to be a treasure hunter, and the quest was not for knowledge, but for gold.
Giuseppe Ferlini was born in Bologna, Italy, as the 18th century came to a close. He served as a doctor in the struggle for Greek independence, kicking off his long, complicated, and mostly-antagonistic relationship with Muslims. Later, he traveled to Sudan, where he heard tales of a wondrous ruin thousands of years old: the huge pyramid complex at Meroë, which Europeans had only recently become aware of. It contained some two hundred of the area’s distinctively steep-sided pyramids of various sizes, many embossed with beautiful inscriptions describing the exploits of the rulers entombed within.
Guiseppe could hardly believe his fortune, and after some months in nearby Khartoum organizing an expedition, he spent the next year rampaging through Meroë and the nearby Wad ban Naqa blowing up everything he suspected might contain gold.
He only ever found one cache of gold and today, hardly any of the pyramids remain intact. The complex at Meroë, with its two hundred beautifully-preserved pyramids, could have been a treasure of world culture and tourist attraction to rival the temples at Angkor Wat. But thanks in part to Giuseppi Ferlini, they languish in rubble and obscurity, their steep sides crumbling: another silent reminder of European arrogance in a continent choked with them.
7:03 am • 25 November 2012 • 2 notes
click the picture. I still have physical copies of this mixtape. If you want them holler on the ask, I’m not charging for this shit anymore I just want to share a piece of what Matthew made for the world to enjoy.
6:41 am • 8 September 2012 • 54 notes
Rap Industry Fan Fiction: Gucci Mane finally escapes his marijuana addiction.
Gucci Mane sighed as he adjusted his coat. “Burr,” he said, noting the cold and snow. “Gucci,” he added as an afterthought. The arctic was a harsh, unforgiving land, but he had thought he would have been warm enough in his fur. Shivering, he began to suspect that his coat might have…
you’re not reading this tumblr yet??
4:59 am • 8 July 2012 • 100 notes