W.T.F.



Repairing MacArthur Maze can take months


How do you melt an entire freeway junction ?! That scares the crap out of me. Well, free BART for everyone! However, I do rely on this junction the most to get to and from Oakland Airport.

On another Oakland-based note:



YEE!!!!!!!




(Have you heard? Baron Davis made every effort to listen to the fans after the Warriors beat Dallas in Game 4 at Oracle Arena on Sunday night, leaving the team just a win away from one of the most improbable upsets in NBA playoff history. - sfgate.com)

I texted a bunch of my friends post-game because I knew that we were all sharing the same feeling! Even in Laker territory, it was the first time we were cheering in solidarity, mainly because the Mavs were the greater evil. I texted the homie $hort and he replied instantaneously :

"They beat dallas in 4 games. Incredible. That was real big!"



You gotta love it....

A Good Provider is One Who Leaves

Published April 22, 2007

My next GIG

"Hip Hop Lives"
(KRS-1 Video Shoot)



The return of b-boys and b-girls (with tacky clothing)




KRS-1 and DJ Rhettmatic and Roscoe




Bambu of the Native Guns, Christian Mariano aka Fresh Prodeuce (the man behind the Think About It track), and ME!




Krish meets The Parkers



It was a cool experience, and I hope I get another "U-C-IT" cameo. Interestingly enough, I was one of the few women in the cipher scene, even though it was simulated as well.

Where the ladies at?!

Well, one lady that is doing the damn thing is Simone, Chris's wife, who is the Executive Producer of his upcoming album that also features the legendary Marley Marl. Moreso than himself, when Chris found out that I work for Rolling Stone, besides asking "How the heck did YOU get in there?", he wanted to push his "hip hop wifey" as a story. Hip hop wifey is a hard gig (as I am learning every day), and I certainly agree that there are a lot of women behind these successful men that don't get any credit. Simone was definitely the shot-caller at the shoot, feeding Chris his lines, rallying the kids, and making sure that every frame was perfect. And she's old enough to be my mother! (...is what she said when she told me her oldest son is 23 years old.) The cute thing was that lil' Chris (on the left) recognized me from MTV. I definitely want to have dinner with the Parkers sometime soon. Hey man, it's LA. Anything can happen.

What was cool, was that I got to sit down with a legend in hip hop, and over a plastic cup of Cabernet Sauvignon, he was just as interested in my story, as I was his. "How did you get there?" What do want to do with your music?" is what he asked me when he found out that I rapped. (He was even more flabbergasted that I rolled with three other Pinay MCs) " I always wondered when a Filipino MC was going to come up, because the Filipino DJ is a given..." It was an absolute honor and a blessing to share a moment with KRS-1. "Criminal Minded" changed my life! And I was just a baby... Him and I agree that hip hop is definitely all grown up.

HA!




Courtesy of Smoking Section. Shirt courtesy of Bun B.

M1 from Dead Prez responds to Imus's "Nappy Ho" comment

Eccentric the Panther

Guerilla recognize Guerilla
(Part 2)



Watch the video here.

About a month ago, a fact-checker at Rolling Stone emailed me and told me that he spoke to a young man named Josh Wolf who was locked up in a federal penitentiary just outside of San Francisco. Apparently, Wolf mentioned to him that he was a classmate of mine and passed on a congratulatory message. Although I drew a blank at the time, I was curious to know which prison inmate knew me enough to say hello via RS and what the hell he was in prison for.

I had no idea who he was, until he left me this message two days ago on a previous post:

"Hey Krishtine,

I don't know if you remember me or not, but we had a class at SF State together: Feminism, Marxism, and the Resistance (or something very similar to that). A guy named Shawn is writing an article about my legal plight in your magazine, I asked him to pass on a congratulations for your achievement. Much Respect.

I actually haven't seen the show though; we were locked down when your show came on at FDC Dublin. Will try to check it out now that I'm back in the "free" world.

Josh"



Then I remembered.

The fucked up thing about it is that the class that we took, "Feminism, Marxism, and Resistance" was
axed, as was the entire NEXA department that provided the course, because of CSU's budget cuts. It was ground zero for scathing political commentary between colleagues, such as Josh and myself, who would eventually put those theories to practical use.

So this one's for you, Josh. For retaining what little integrity journalism has left, for being jailed for your right to free speech as a member of the press, and especially, for NOT SNITCHING. We are very proud of you.

FAB recognize FAB...
(Part 1)



My oh my. So when I haven't posted in a while, faithful readers of GB, you can rest assure that I ain't just kicking back somewhere fucking off. I have been commissioned by my good friend, Juan Pablo, to do the cover story of The Source's Swimsuit Issue with the First Lady of Hip Hop, Kimora Lee Simmons. What would have been my fam QT and lightweight vaca was a week-and-a-half of playing phone tag with her publicist and my editors trying to track down the busiest woman in hip hop. From the moment I took off in Burbank, to an hour before I departed Oakland, it was a frenzied and often-inconvenient foray into my first cover story for a major nationwide publication.

I almost missed out on the job due to the fact that I'm, ahem, very far from the Big Apple where most of her Fabulosity occurs, but something about this Frisco girl was too good to pass up (according to her publicist, who insisted to my new editors that I was the only one for the job). It was a humbling and exhilirating experience because, in my line of work it's far too seldom that I come across such powerful and ambitious females. The fact that I'm an Asian woman in the hip hop industry as well definitely helped me on the affirmative action side, but to interview someone who neither disowns nor tokenizes their heritage in the hopes for success, was very inspiring.

It's easy for me to be star-struck post interview, but at the end of the day, people want controversy and juicy gossip. "Is she with Russell still? Are they getting back together? Who is she dating? Why does she act that way?" I tried to be sensitive of her personal trials, but you know how sensationalistic journalism can be, and many times, the focal point for a successful story.

When I googled her, there was a plethora of "hate" and rumor swirling around to counteract the witty tidbits of her responses. It brought me back to the blogword of, um, last month, in which I was the star attraction to tear to pieces. Many of the same people said the same thing "Who does she think she is? Why is she so obnoxious and 'in-your-face'?" And she also mentioned how past articles misquoted her because of irreverent journalism, and how that led to the public's perception of her. The more we talked, the more I could identify with her - obviously not in fiscal or celebrity terms - but in the fact that it is so easy for people to judge: misled cornbread journalists, catty blogwhores, and rumor mongers waiting for an inkling of imperfection. She handled it with grace, humor, and an invite to have lunch at her Beverly Hills mansion in two weeks. Athough I must not be swayed from writing a critical and objective story, by then, the article would have been sent and I could focus on witnessing some of that Fabulosity some can only hope to dream of, including myself.

Photo shoot with Estevan Oriol



If you want to know where I've been the past week...I've been preparing for my photo shoot with Estevan Oriol in San Francisco for his exhibit with Yamasuma Yonehara at Upper Playground on Haight. Initially, I went home to host our illerclip launch party and stayed for the gallery which will be debuting tommorrow! I'm so nervous! Ahhhh!


The first time I met Estevan was for an interview during my second week in Los Angeles. Upon my arrival, the first thing he asked was "What is your background?" After I told him I was Pinay, the second question he asked was "Is that a tattoo on your neck?" We went on with our interview, and I didn't give it much thought, until he told me about his SF Exhibit.

The concept behind Yone and Oriol's exhibit is very simple. Since Yone is known for shooting Japanese women exclusively, and Oriol, Chicanas , they decided to switch subjects. So when Yone broadened (no pun) his subjects to "Latinas", Oriol also decided to shoot Asian women. This is where I came into the picture.


After the interview, he asked me to be in his shoot and my first reactions was "Wow! I can't believe he thinks I'm beautiful enough to be in his photographs." Then I went through my mental rolodex of his work and remembered one thing: the women he shoots are very sexy. As for myself, I already had my mind made up during the filming of my series that I would be against any Maxim-esque shoots that objectify women. Something about the way these "models" were lubed up, super provocative, and slightly trashy, played into all the insecurities I've ever had as a young woman learning to love my own body. The heavily-photoshopped versions of "real" women play into a fantasy that most little girls never become. Not to mention the fact that Asian women are highly-exoticized as it is, and much of the income keeping my home country afloat is from illegal sex-trafficking.




But that has nothing to do with Estevan. Estevan is one of the greatest photographers of our generation, and he has revolutionized the face of photography with his controversial subject matter: low-rider culture, gang members, round-the-way cholitas with shotguns, and communities that would be shunned in the serious world of "art". He iconicized West Coast culture with his edgy, black-and-white renditions of a Los Angeles underbelly that would never allow the regular person to see, unless they wanna get murked Training Day -style. Along with his partnership with tattoo artist Mister Cartoon, they've weaved a necessary history within the very fabric of West Coast culture - something that is as much a part of me as my Filipina Heritage.




So when he sensed my nervousness, he walked me through his studio's illustrious hallway and showed me the pouty darlings of his Nikon. He said that although there is an inherent sexuality to his photographs, what he focuses on is his subjects' face. And because his subjects are hand-picked to reflect his philosophy about his art - the women are provocative yet understated. Non-conventional, but strikingly attractive. Ethnic. Barrio, rather, than Barbie Doll. For that, I will always be a fan of his work, even if I was never a participant.

But since I am, I still struggled to find whether my womanist ideals aligned to this art project. On one hand, I never was a Girls-Gone-Wild type. Boy crazy, maybe, but stylishly conservative. Never flashed a thong in a cage. Kept my list of suitors to a VIP minimum. But on the other hand, I embrace sexuality - especially my own. The sexuality of women has been violently oppressed across many religions. Women are taught that they can either be a slut or a prude - no gray area here. Our personal lives are questioned in reference to our professional, often in the face of vindictive men who question their own competence. Because, surely a woman is not enough of a multi-tasker to be sexy, smart, and progressive. It goes against everything America's media portrays. I guess you have to be an ugly woman to be taken seriously as a writer - or anything for that matter.


Fuck that. My work speaks for itself. It will never be compromised, and always be challenged. That's the nature of the game. And I love my skin. I love the story of my history reflected in my melanin. I have my father's nose. My mother's smile. My colonizer's name. Kinky brown hair with fat lips and Asian freckles. I come from a tropical culture, from matriarchy, from sexual liberation and mutual respect.

Today, at the photoshoot, it took two rolls of film, ten loosened bobby pins, and an encouraging word from Estevan to assure myself that I was beautiful. (Oh yeah, and a bottle of baby oil. Ha! ) I felt less like a streetwalker, and more like a woman in love with her body - despite the blemishes, scars, and patriarchal limitations. By the fourth roll, I felt the way I feel when my man tells me that I am the most gorgeous woman he knows. Not because of my superficial demeanor. But because he knows that I am infinitely more than a sexy pose with a pretty smile.