Getting what you voted for

My heart bleeds.

California has overreached in its effort to address the challenges in today’s tech platform gig-work economy. 

The live music sector, the progenitor of the term “gig” work, is being swept up by this law. The irony would be comical if it were not such a serious problem.

There are some worthy arguments to be made for Assembly Bill 5 by Assemblywoman Lorena Gonzalez, San Diego Democrat.

Like hell. There really is only the one argument, explicitly made by some Cali congresswoman or other when, in a rare burst of accidental candor, she complained that the state wasn’t glomming enough in tax dough off of rideshare drivers. Despite the property tax they pay on their cars, the fees for their license plates, the tax on every set of tires or quart of oil they buy, the tax on every gallon of gasoline, and their own yearly income taxes, they weren’t paying “their fair share,” see.

Funnily enough, though that revealing statement was fairly prominent in the reportage I saw at the time, it now seems to have vanished down the ol’ memory hole for some reason. I can’t imagine why.

Anyways, the writer quoted above is a California musician who feels “there are some worthy arguments to be made” for letting goobermint’s grubby thumbs dig deeper into any and everything it wishes, as long as they just leave him alone. His evident shock over this bit says it all:

However, the law has created a tangle of red-tape and administrative expense for large portions of California’s cultural sector.

NOOOO! Why, I can’t believe it! I WON’T believe it! Fret not, though; I’m sure things can all be ironed out with even more legislation, right? Right?!?

Under AB 5, we will be required to inform all U.S.-based musicians that they must now become employees of San Jose Jazz, or incorporate themselves before they will be allowed to perform for us.

If band leaders choose to pursue incorporation, they will then need to take on the responsibility of payroll and HR administration for the rest of their band.

In many performing arts disciplines, such as jazz, musicians are constantly reconfiguring line ups, performing as sidemen in various bands, and as one-time special guests for specific performances.

We will now be obliged to devote tremendous time and resources to constantly hiring, managing and tracking of musicians through this cumbersome process.

AB 5 unnecessarily complicates other work arrangements found in community cultural programming such as small festivals, neighborhood street fairs, parades and summer music series in our local parks.

San Jose Jazz is best known for producing our large Summer Fest which brings tens of thousands of visitors and requires hundreds of temporary roles to execute.

The vast majority of previously contract work roles will now be required to be employees. 

Tough noogies, pal. You voted for it, by electing nothing but Democrat-Socialists in your state for years and years. As the old saw has it, sooner or later they always get around to something you DO care about. And now they have. More SHOCKING yet:

Typical of such legislation, AB 5 comes with a hefty list of exempted categories that are a Who’s Who of the politically connected and well-funded: lawyers, doctors, accountants, brokers, builders, and others.

Actors, choreographers, dancers, directors, producers, and musicians are among numerous roles in the performing arts that exhibit a multitude of contract work arrangements. None of these are exempt from AB 5’s rules. 

So? If there are indeed “worthy arguments to be made” for handing government the power to make workplace rules of all sorts, why should performing artists be exempt from them, pray tell? Why should ANYBODY be? And can you really be so impenetrably naive as to find it surprising that the wealthy, powerful, and connected exempted themselves from the wonderful benefits of the law? Y’know, just like US Congresscritters routinely exempt themselves from having to comply with any and every piece of burdensome bushwa they roll downhill onto the rest of us?

Personally, after reading this whiny, clueless twaddle it would be a-okay with me if every last theater, concert hall, arena, neighborhood dive bar, and neo-hippie coffee house featuring annoying solo-acoustic singer/songwriters on the Left Coast closed up shop for good tomorrow as a result of this law. Voting the most intrusive, power-hungry nanny-staters extant into office again and again ought to be painful—not just for Uber and Lyft drivers struggling to eke out their meager living, but for everybody, right down the damned line. The lesson will be learned only after the misery is spread around widely enough for all to suffer. Let elections have consequences at last, I say.

Publick Notice

Another progress report: as y’all have surely noticed, the restoration of Ye Olde CF Blogge continues, although we still have a deuced long way to go yet. I’m wading through re-fabricating the Greatest Hits and Leatherballs sections currently, which just like everything else is turning out to be way more work than I first hoped. For those who never paid it much attention, the Leatherballs section consists of my regular columns for the late, (un)lamented Outlaw Biker ragazine, for whom I worked as ad and website designer for a good few years. Along the way, in addition to doing Leatherballs I also wrote a fair few featured articles, and I’m considering tossing them into the Leatherballs mix as well, just because.

An aside: I was crowned Leatherballs in the first place years ago by a close friend of mine (supposedly), who never explained just what it was supposed to mean. I was too alarmed to ask, but in due course the handle proved something of a blessing, I guess. Biker rag scribes always use several different names to write under; every biker mag I ever did hear of only had two or three people on staff, and those lonely souls wanted it to look as if they occupied a big office just a-buzz with writers, editorial staff, photogs, and the like.

The lone exception to that rule was the once-great Easyriders back in its 1970s heyday; they did have an unusually full staff complement, and employed freelance writers for their biker fiction pieces as well. Even so, mainstays like Spider and Doc Twat also worked under a cpl-three other fictitious noms de pen themselves.

An interesting note about the biker fiction: I’ve been a huge fan of Larry Brown since his first short-story collection was published. Brown died much too young; he was hands-down one of the best writers I know of, period. As it happens, he kept body and soul together until his book-contract ship finally came in by freelancing for Easyriders back in the day.

Now, I subscribed to Easyriders for years, until in the 80s it morphed into a horrible yuppie-biker dumpster fire. They abandoned truly righteous, beautiful old-school chopppers and bobjobs for godawful, completely unrideable contraptions by builders like Arlen Ness, the nekkid biker chicks for professional models*, and I lost interest entirely. But my immediate thought on reading the interview wherein Brown confessed to the ER gig was “I bet you I could go back and pick out which ones he wrote, whatever the pen name.” A lot of that biker fiction was pure dreck, almost physically painful to wade through, but some of it was actually pretty good. And there’s just no way a writer of Brown’s caliber could ever dull the brilliance of his star, no matter how hard he tried.

I have no idea of when I might be able to get all the old archived posts back up. Looks like I’m gonna have to export the old database and then re-import it into the new, clean one in order to accomplish that, and the truth is I do NOT trust the old one enough to do so without giving it a very thorough going-through first. Which means minutely examining eighteen-plus years of posts for snippets of bogus code; no minor task, by any standard. It’s going to take weeks at best, given that I also have to work seven days a week, pick up the young ‘un at school every day, along with all the other daily duties that can only be put off for so long.

All of which is to say that the post archives will be back eventually, but don’t expect miracles in a hurry here. Big, big thanks to The Sage for suggesting the Wayback Machine as a source for the restoration. That didn’t occur to me at all, and it’s been indispensable in retrieving the Greatest Hits material and other things, all of which I thought I had local backups of, but…umm…uhhh…well, sadly, NO. Chalk that up as yet another lesson learned the hardest of ways.

And now, onwards!

*Footnote: One of those models was porn-queen extraordinaire Traci Lords:

ER-Traci-Cover.jpg


Remind me to tell y’all someday my story of meeting Traci in, of all settings, Frederick’s Of Hollywood, during the band’s first West Coast tour. I promise you it’s all true. Yes, I have pictures.

Five years on

Haunted by the ghosts of Charlie Hebdo.

I heard about the attack shortly before I went on that morning’s John Oakley Show in Toronto. Throughout the grim half-decade for free speech that has followed, I have thought often of Stéphane “Charb” Charbonnier, the editor of Charlie Hebdo and a great cartoonist in the French style. Two years before his death, he said:

It may seem pompous, but I’d rather die standing than live on my knees.

He did. He was an heroic figure, and he paid for it with his life. One reason for that is because, when everyone else is on their knees, the guy standing up kinda stands out. And Charb & Co had been standing out for almost ten years. As I said to Megyn Kelly at Fox News later that night:

STEYN: Yes, they were very brave. This was the only publication that was willing to publish the Muhammad — the Danish Muhammad cartoons in 2006 because they decided to stand by those Danish cartoonists. I’m proud to have written for the only Canadian magazine to publish those Muhammad cartoons. And it’s because The New York Times didn’t and because Le Monde in Paris didn’t, and the London Times didn’t and all the other great newspapers of the world didn’t – only Charlie Hebdo and my magazine in Canada and a few others did. But they were forced to bear a burden that should have been more widely dispersed…

We will be retreating into a lot more self-censorship if the pansified Western media doesn’t man up and decide to disburse the risk so they can’t kill one small, little French satirical magazine. They’ve gotta kill all of us.

Given the despicable, gutless groveling so shamelessly on display this past week, it’s clear that the five years since have brought no improvement in our sorry lot. Steyn looks back in anger:

Five years ago I quoted Andrew Stiles:

Journalists: These French journalists are so brave!

Readers: What did they do? Can I see?

Journalists: It’s our policy not to show you.

But I see Mr Stiles’ Tweet has somehow managed to disappear from the Internet. George Clooney held up a pencil and Dame Helen Mirren wore an exquisite pencil brooch pinned to her splendid embonpoint and thousands of tilty-headed wankers with sorrowful expressions marched through the streets of Paris waving pencils. But none of them was willing to do the one thing that mattered – and show what Charb et al had drawn with those pencils. By the following day I was good and sick of it:

To be honest, it makes me vomit to see people holding these Princess Dianafied candlelit vigils, and using the hashtag #JeSuisCharlie – I am Charlie -and in effect appropriating these guys’ sacrifice for this bogus solidarity. It makes me sick to see all these ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’ cartoons that have appeared in newspapers all over the United States, Canada, Britain, Germany, France, Australia, everywhere, from other cartoonists, again expressing solidarity with these very brave men – but not doing what they did…

I’ve been on enough events in Europe with less famous cartoonists than these who live under death threats, live under armed guard, have had their family restaurant firebombed – it’s happened to a Norwegian comedienne I know – have come home and found their home burned, as a Swedish artist I know happened to. And all these people doing the phony hashtag solidarity, screw your phony hashtag solidarity. Let’s have some real solidarity – or if not, at least have the good taste to stay the hell out of it.

That would have been asking too much. In the days that followed almost all those who claimed to be expressing solidarity with Charb were, in fact, signaling very clearly that they preferred to live on their knees.

I’ve quoted this great Tolkien passage here before, and it bears endless repeating:

It needs but one foe to breed a war, not two, Master Warden, and those who have not swords can still die upon them.

The Charlie Hebdo victims proved their mettle with a defiant message written in their own blood. Too bad the pathetic, weepy fools who boasted “Je suis Charlie!” in between choruses of “Imagine” at all those repulsive candlelight vigils are too cowardly to do anything more than disgrace such a noble legacy.

Plastic surgery disasters

Well, this is…unfortunate.

On Monday night’s episode of “Botched,” a show on E! about cosmetic surgery mishaps and how to fix them, a woman named Crystal Coombs came to the show’s doctors because she had pubic hair growing out of her face. It was growing from a skin graft she’d previously undergone in the area to repair a dog bite, People reported.

Coombs said the dog bit her when she was 9 years old. She was rushed to the emergency room, where a plastic surgeon was tasked with repairing the chunk of skin the dog took out of her cheekbone area.

“He suggested the skin graft, [and to] take it from the groin. They did the surgery, and then the hair started growing,” Coombs told “Botched” doctors Terry Dubrow and Paul Nassif. Coombs said that she never recalled her surgeon at the time saying pubic hair growth would be a side effect of the procedure. 

(Manhattan dermatologist Dr Hadley) King said split-thickness skin grafts are often taken from the butt, thighs, arms, back, or abdomen, and according to Medline Plus, full-thickness grafts are typically taken from a person’s chest, back, or abdominal area, not the groin.

“It’s best to match the skin as well as possible, and it’s also advantageous to take it from a relatively discrete area so that the donor site is not a significant cosmetic concern,” King said. “In this case, the donor site is discrete but because of the hair it’s not really a great match.”

Gee, ya think? I was about to say that the still from the vid accompanying the article is about what you might expect, but—well, no. Whatever expectations you might harbor, I assure you it’s much, much worse.

(Via Insty)

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