It's time for a little pre-March Madness madness, gay-marriage-style!! If you're like us, you've been watching the arguments against same-sex marriage in the Washington State House of Representatives and thinking to yourself: Which of these dumbfucks is the dumbest? Let's figure it out!
For you non-sports fans, here's how this works. We're going to start with the eight people you see above. Over the weekend and through the power of Slog polls, you will winnow down the pack to a final four. On Monday morning, those four will square off, and on Monday night, the two finalists will square off. The winner of the Tournament of Dunces will get a flower from a gay florist, a bacon cheeseburger from Jack in the Box, and their official state portrait on the cover of The Stranger. This may be the highest honor of their professional lives!
First match-up (with more to come over the weekend):
Jay "I Don't Know If I Want to Be Here" Rodne...
...versus Jan "Microphone in Hand" Angel:
Jim Brunner reports:
Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum is headed to Washington state Monday, planning campaign stops in Olympia and Tacoma, as he fires up his campaign for the March 3 GOP caucuses.
Santorum plans to meet with foes of gay marriage in Olympia in the afternoon, and then will hold a campaign rally at 7 p.m. at the Washington Historical Museum in Tacoma, according to a copy of the plans distributed to state GOP officials.
At 11:30 a.m., Governor Chris Gregoire will sign the marriage-equality bill at her Capitol Building office. What a shit show.
This week's short is Drew Christie’s “The Man Who Shot the Man Who Shot Lincoln.” Two simple reasons for posting this film: one, it’s weird in a good way (the scene with the scissors will definitely shock you); two, Christie is receiving national attention (his short “Song of the Spindle” screened at Sundance 2012). In the nutty world of animation, being weird is easy, whereas being weird and interesting is not.
The Man Who Shot The Man Who Shot Lincoln from Drew Christie on Vimeo.
There could be no other reason that Representative Klippert's daughter was horrified at the thought of having two identical Brad Klipperts raising her—each Brad wearing a tie with the American flag and the Statue of Liberty on it, each Brad wearing a black suit jacket over a brown suit jacket, each Brad citing testimony from a 13-year-old girl about the eternal truths to be found in left shoes and right shoes...
Yes, his daughter's horror must have meant that gay marriage shouldn't be legalized.
The Washington State Department of Health has the cause of the "intestinal illness" that broke out at a recent cheerleading competition in Everett: norovirus.
OLYMPIA — Testing at the state Public Health Laboratories confirms that norovirus caused hundreds of illnesses during and after the February 4 state high school cheerleading tournament. Norovirus is typically transmitted person-to-person.
The number of people reporting they suffered vomiting and diarrhea during the event or in the days after is now 229. At least 33 have reported seeking medical care though there have been no overnight hospital admissions. The numbers are expected to grow as state health officials receive answers from surveys that were sent to participants and families.
The Washington State Department of Health is leading the disease investigation, working with local health partners and the Washington Interscholastic Activities Association (WIAA), sponsor of the event in Everett.
As a survivor of a bout or two with norovirus, all I can say is: gross.
Soup & Bread's setup: Local chefs, artists, musicians, and other notables each donate a pot of soup, bakeries donate their bread, you bring cash to make a donation to a worthy cause, and everyone eats. (Seattle native Martha Bayne started S&B in Chicago; now she takes it on the road, and there's also a new cookbook.) Tonight, the soup comes from Sitka & Spruce, Taylor Shellfish, and many more, along with beer from Georgetown Brewing Company (yes!); then there's a show featuring the Coconut Coolouts and Pony Time. All the proceeds go to the Betsy Hansen Cancer Fund, to help out the beloved co-owner of Radar Hair and Records. Soup, bread, Coconuts, and helping—plus you'll "leave bolstered by the positive vibes emanating from your being."
Bring a spoon.
Soup & Bread: The Betsy Hansen Edition, Sunday Feb 12, 6 pm, 2724 1st Ave S, Ste A, 402-4549, all ages, free (suggested donation).

Regent Cafe & Bakery opened yesterday kitty-corner from Artusi (that's the corner bar for Spinasse), where an Online Coffee Company used to be.
The original Redmond location of Regent is such a favorite of software developers that it got mentioned in Valve Software's Portal. The new Capitol Hill branch has brightly lit cases of cakes (green tea mousse!), pastries (chocolate croissant, fruit tarts), and other baked goods, as well as coffee, bubble tea, a full Chinese menu with a sit-down dining area, and a slick bar.
The people there are extremely nice, and I ate a criminally buttery, caramelized-topped sticky-bun-thing that is now going to be calling to me all day, every day. If their chow fun is good, that'll be lunch 19 times a week. And they say they're going to stay open late on the weekends, so yay for that.

Starting today at the Varsity are dueling programs of Oscar-nominated short films: one package featuring the five nominees for Best Animated Short and another featuring the five nominees for Best Live-Action Short.
I just watched the five live-actions, and it was a really wonderful way to spend 90 minutes. Films range from 8 minutes to 30 minutes and from perfectly fine to fucking awesome. Here's the lineup:
*Pentecost (Ireland, 9 mins) Some short films feel like fierce condensations of feature-length subjects, while other feel like cleverly outfitted skits. Pentecost is one of the latter, telling a comic tale of a young Irish altar boy navigating the challenges of Mass, and made Oscar-nomination-worthy by the gorgeous cinematography of Patrick Jordan (who mines all the natural drama of Cathoic ritual).
*Raju (Germany/India, 25 mins) Holy crap this movie is good. It starts with a European couple arriving in Calcutta to adopt a 4-year-old boy, and morphs into a half-dozen scenes of shocking clarity on love and fear and the evil that men do (and ignore). Beautiful acting, ferocious storytelling, Raju sure as hell better win the Oscar. (And if it doesn't, I'm pushing someone you love down stairs.)
*The Shore (Northern Ireland, 30 mins). A sweet, slow slice-of-life story about the reunion of two long-estranged friends in Ireland. The acting is lovely, the story is sweet, but the prolonged Celtic reminiscing plods by.
*Time Freak (USA, 11 mins) Unabashedly a tricked-out skit, Andrew Bowler's Time Freak involves a neurotic young inventor whose successful creation of a time machine has trapped him in a loop of correcting the tiniest imperfections or miscommunications of the past. It's sharp, and Groundhog Day-y, and delightful.
*Tuba Atlantic (Norway, 26 mins) The closest thing Raju has to competition (but not really), Tuba Atlantic is a grimly stylish death parable charting a bitter old man's final days of life. Joining him on his march to the grave is a teenage girl identifying herself as a death angel, here to walk Old Man Bitter through the stages of grief as he leaves the world. It's a nice conceit, applying the stages of grief to the person doing the dying/leaving, and the whole film bristles with gallows humor and lovely imagery. It's nice.
Screening times for Oscar Nominated Shorts are here for Live-Action and here for Animated.
SO MANY!!!!
Holy shit! Look what the sweaty folds of the internet coughed up today—conservatives in Colonial wigs and tracksuits rapping about America:
Bravo, internet. I am speechless.

Description: From the owners of the Dray comes the Yard, the sizably patioed Greenwood lounge. Inside, though, the space is teeny, with wood coating each surface, and the narrow bar and closely arranged tables bringing a thoroughly wedged-in feeling. The effect is something like being entombed in a walnut, but that hasn't stopped the place from being overrun. The crowd's millings are largely congenial, with people watching soccer games on the couple of TVs or dispensing offhand advice: "Just apologize to him," a woman kept saying to her friend. She couldn't stop laughing, and it seemed like not such a big deal.
What else: A strange, old-timey photo decorates the private booth. It may have been a beer ad, the bartender says. It shows a group of rugged but well-dressed men staring out from a deep and woodsy wilderness. They're all so pale-eyed and haunted-looking, and the scene suggests a gallant plunging into disaster—like the Englishman Robert Falcon Scott and his team of explorers, who, as they lay dying in a South Pole blizzard, passed the time by "singing ringing songs of cheer."
As for food and drink specials, expect $1 off wine, rotating drafts for about $4 a pop, and a "great menu of Mexican-inspired small plates, including $5 bacon-wrapped, cheese-stuffed jalapeños, $5 tostadas, and $5 fried tacos dorados."
Republican Representative Bill Hinkle of Cle Elum wears a bow tie, which means he KNOWS what's going to happen when gay marriage becomes law: exactly what happened to "Holy Russia" when "Holy Russia" stopped considering itself holy. Watch out!
Also, Bill Hinkle is not a gluttonous American, "even though I may look like one," which means you are not necessarily gay even though you might or might not say you are. Think about it.
He raised another $1 million today. That means he's raised $3 million in the three days. Santorum's press secretary just tweeted:

Romney's gonna need a lot of paper towels to wipe this mess up.
There it is...
Iranian intelligence experts also warned of the very real, and very frightening, possibility of the U.S. providing weapons and resources to a rogue third-party state such as Israel.
God is truth, and the Washington State Constitution mentions a "Supreme Ruler of the Universe," and truth is universal, THEREFORE the Washington State Legislature cannot weigh in on marriage, which is eternally between a man and a woman, and that is the truth, according to this guy.

Our friend Jill says there's a sign in front of Banadir, the Somali place on Rainier close to downtown Columbia City, that says the chef from beloved, departed Afrikando Afrikando—Jacques Saar—is coming to cook there. Presumably he'll be making his awesome Senegalese food. Right now they're doing a little remodeling. So, neat neat!
On an unrelated note, Jill also says, "I am deeply satisfied with the fried dill pickles and the cod at Five Fish Bistro."
It's required because hahahahahahahahahahaha.
I’m a straight woman and I am 19 and should be in college. Due to pretty major depression and anxiety problems, I am not in school and I live with my parents.
This morning, around 5 AM, I heard my father go into the bathroom, which is next to my bedroom. I have really good hearing, and trouble sleeping, so it’s not unusual for me to wake up when he uses the bathroom at night. This time, over the sound of him urinating, I heard my father say, “I’m in love with you.”
I’m the only one who could have possibly heard what he said. I couldn't shake my disgust. I lay awake, feeling like I was going to vomit, until I heard him get up and go to work.
Last night, while my mom was out and my father and I were watching TV, he told me how beautiful I looked the other night. He has given me compliments like this before, never anything sexually explicit, but they have always made me uncomfortable. I’m not an affectionate person (I’ve never had sex), and I feel uncomfortable when anyone touches or hugs me.
I am really ashamed and afraid to tell anyone about this. I’m so sick right now that I want to leave and never come back, but that seems impossible due to money concerns and my inability to live independently.
I can’t tell my mom or my sisters, who are both grown and live in other states. I’m scared if my dad finds out I heard him, it will be revealed that he does think he’s in love with me, and he’ll try to molest me or he’ll kill himself.
I would really like to hear back from you. I know there are help lines for incest victims but since he hasn’t assaulted me, I don’t want to take time away from real victims.
Troubled And Living With Parents
My response after the jump...
Yesterday's last stop on our tour of ?!?!?!?!???? arguments against gay marriage was Republican Representative Mark Hargrove, of Covington, who cited a Jack in the Box commercial as proof that gays shouldn't be married.
Next up! Republican Representative Jan Angel, of Port Orchard, who believes in the rights of all people, and fights every day for those rights, and does not judge, and wants to love her neighbor "WELL," but.... her heart is just so heavy!

Still not convinced that oatmeal can be amazing? Commenters have been posting their favorite ways to serve it—using everything from red currants to chai tea to a shot of whiskey.
SpookyCats says: "You will get an even better flavor from rolled oats if you toast them lightly in the pan before you add liquid. Cook on low heat just until you can smell their goodness. Yummy."
SteamDawn says: "Snowy morning oatmeal nirvana: Snoqualmie Falls Lodge rolled oats, cooked NOT in water but in home-made Darjeeling Chai tea (thanks to Kelly Brainard for the recipe!)."
spammy says: While in the Aran Islands of Ireland, our host served us oatmeal with a side of cream. She asked if we wanted to add some honey from her brother's hive. "Yes, please!" Then she added, "would you like a shot of whiskey too?" Who could turn that down? Your oatmeal will never be the same.
And not a fan of the sweet stuff? Commenter jp has a suggestion: "Oatmeal can even be delicious when served all savory-like. My favorite way to make it is with butter, salt, pepper, a little cheddar cheese and a sprinkling of capers. Yum!"
I may never eat cold cereal again.
How do you take your oatmeal? Share your suggestions here!
Over at Weibo, the Chinese equivalent to Twitter, a rumor is currently running rampant that newly minted North Korean dictator Kim Jong-Un has been assassinated at the North Korean embassy in Beijing. Which is not nearly as interesting as the fact that Western news outlets are widely reporting a rumor from the Chinese equivalent to Twitter.
I mean, the likes of Gawker and HuffPo, I can understand. They're pretty much in the business of reprinting rumors. But "reputable" outlets like MSNBC, Reuters, and Forbes? Really? I mean, maybe Kim Jong-un is dead. Who knows? But some guy on Weibo isn't exactly a source.
[Slogtip Joe]

The unbelievably horrible Powell tragedy keeps reminding me of another horrible instance of parental visitation/custody rights gone tragically wrong, documented in the amazing 2008 film Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father. The Netflix synopsis does a graceful job of explaining the basics:
Filmmaker Kurt Kuenne's poignant tribute to his murdered childhood friend, Andrew Bagby, tells the story of a child custody battle between the baby's grieving grandparents and Shirley Turner, Bagby's pregnant ex-girlfriend and suspected killer. Initially, Kuenne made this documentary as a memorial for Andrew's loved ones, but it morphs into an emotional legal odyssey when Turner goes free on bail and is allowed to raise her son.
Dear Zachary is a movie that will destroy you, which is as it should be. But beyond the destruction is the beauty of the creation, with filmmaker/surviving friend Kuenne getting brilliantly proactive in response to a question that's sure to be hovering around the Powell family: How do we keep this horrible tragedy from becoming the entire life story of people we love?
Watch Dear Zachary at your leisure on Netflix Streaming. (And bring Kleenex/a dog to hug.)
Girl, you have that white wine spritzer... shoo, HAVE TWO!
The last time sound-and-sight artist Yann Novak had a solo show in Seattle, it was mesmerizing—subtle and abstract, but you knew just what it meant for you. It happened at Lawrimore Project, on the occasion of Novak's moving to Los Angeles after eight years in Seattle. I wrote,
But Relocation, as the show is called, tells a larger story, too, about all kinds of movings on, from any position of relative comfort into a newness, and the way the process itself changes the terms you thought you understood about each location when you made the decision. The place you decided to leave is better than ever; along the way, you keep reading the landscape for clues that won't matter anyway; and arriving is not arriving but starting something from a weird and awkward distance away from where you'll eventually locate yourself. (Do you ever have this experience, where your mind roams back to the way you saw your apartment for the first time? That'll be your last view, too.)
Now Novak has a new show, also made of recorded sounds and images, this time captured at dusk at Joshua Tree National Park. It's called Blue.Hour, it's at Jack Straw, and it opens tonight at 7.
Several European cities are rolling out separate traffic lights for cyclists, while Paris officials are test-piloting a strategy to let cyclists legally run red lights. Here's their logic:
According to officials and public documents about the law, the goal is to reduce bike backups clogging intersections. Cyclists are slower with less control as they accelerate from a stop, making them more likely to swerve or fall into a car lane.
Likewise, a crowded gaggle of them waiting for a green light means they will pack closer up against cars in more dangerous proximity once everyone starts moving at different speeds. Plus, drivers of cars densely packed together waiting for a light may have lower visibility of a cyclist up ahead in a lane over. In all, when there are too many cyclists waiting at a red it becomes a danger.
Of course, this strategy would never work in Seattle because we're so unique and special and blah blah blah. Need I say more?
Helmut tip to Max.

It's the experimental theater piece from Argentina that opened last night, runs through Sunday, and sounds amazing.
From the OTB synopsis:
It’s 1999 in Buenos Aires. Mario, Laura, Pablo, and Vicky are in their mid-twenties and ready for careers, love, and adulthood. Over the next decade, Argentina’s economy will collapse and their lives will take a series of unexpected turns. In this fast-paced, multilayered “mega fiction,” director Mariano Pensotti deftly unfolds the lives of these 4 characters....Mariano Pensotti, a young director and writer based in Argentina, has become one of the most noted experimental directors throughout the world. His unique sets and depictions of life are told with a filmic sensibility honed in years studying cinema at the Dramatic Arts Instituto Universitario Nacional de Artes.
From the recent New York Times review:
The Argentine writer and director Mariano Pensotti sets multiple stories in motion in his smart and smartly staged play “El Pasado Es un Animal Grotesco." And they really are in motion: the circular plywood stage, divided into four compartments, revolves constantly (and slowly — you won’t feel seasick), as episodes from the lives of four characters are acted out. Their stories cinematically unspool and overlap as time moves onward and even occasionally backward....“El Pasado Es un Animal Grotesco” considers the way we talk about our lives, the way they become fictions, and then fictions become our pasts — and how alien that can start to feel.
Full info on the On the Boards shows here.
From the ceaseless conveyor belt of shit that is Margie Phelps's Twitter feed:
The Phelps family is basically a human centipede.