Drift Reality

I was recently visiting a friend who lives in the West Village when I had the displeasure of encountering Socialista. As I was riding over, my friend wrote me the following text:

“Socialista is at 505 West St. between Horatio and Jane. Text me when you get here. Maybe your looks will get you in.”

I found the last line of the text a bit peculiar to be sure, but didn’t think anything of it until I arrived at the front door and saw a group of people standing outside negotiating with the doorman. I immediately knew that there was going to be some infuriating front door politics involved as I sauntered up.

“Hey, is there a guest list or something?” I asked one of the doormen, who was standing guard over the exit.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “There is a guest list.”

I began texting my friend that I had arrived when I saw several other people try to gain admittance to the club and be denied.

Turning to the doorman standing in front of the entrance, I asked, “Hey, what’s the deal with this place?”

“Well, you really have to know someone here to get in,” he responded categorically.

“I know my friend who is in there,” I responded.

“Who is your friend?”

“My friend is __________,” I responded knowing full well that this moron didn’t know who my friend was.

“I don’t know your friend,” he responded.

I resisted the temptation to blurt out, “That’s because you don’t know f#%k all,” and instead decided to call my friend and ask him to come out. It was freezing so while I was calling my friend I walked over to the place next door (not realizing it was connected to the lounge).

I walked in the entrance and immediately a man in the suit came up and asked, “Do you have a reservation? Because we are closing pretty soon.”

I looked at him and simply responded, “No, I’m meeting some friends here,” thinking ignorantly that this would be enough to get him to walk away.

“Who are your friends?” he responded. “Maybe I can help you find them.”

I took a quick scan about the place, which couldn’t have been more that 15′ by 15′ and repeated my friend’s name.

“Sorry,” he responded. “I don’t know him. Perhaps they are at the lounge next door? This is the Socialista restaurant.”

Realizing that this was my queue to stand outside I headed out and called my friend to come meet me. After a few minutes, he emerged from the lounge and we went to hail down a cab.

After coming home to DC, I decided to read up on the place. I found out from the Observer write-up that the owner, Armin Amiri grew up in Iran and it suddenly made a great deal of sense to me that the place was so pretentious (disclaimer - I am half-Iranian).

I sort of threw up a little in my mouth when I read his quote in the article:

“What I’d like to be done is a socialism as far as the door. . .What socialism really means is, I give you this and you give me that. And as the door goes, I’m gonna bring you into this nice atmosphere; hopefully, you’re going to bring your great energy in here. And that’s it—that’s the only even exchange I want with people.”

Dude, do you even know what socialism is? Have you ever been to f#%ing Cuba? Were you on drugs when you did the interview?

Reading on, I struck upon a real gem from Amiri: “Back in the old days—you know, the 1940’s—when you went out, it was all about respect. You respected the establishment; it was very chill. And when a single man went out, if he wanted to pick up on a woman, it was very classily done. These days, unfortunately, there’s not much, you know, class left.”

I’m not even going to dwell on the fact that Amiri was negative thirty years old in the 1940s. Instead I’m going to dwell on the fact that this idiot is talking about socialism and 1940s style when his place is so obviously about pretension, elitism, and a tacky effort to actually be stylish while failing miserably.

Style isn’t imposed by an owner. Style evolves over time because a place cultivates relationships with patrons and creates a unique experience for them.

I couldn’t understand how someone could be so ignorant until I saw the picture of Amiri in the article. You can tell Amiri is desperately trying to look stylish but ends up looking like a hairy version of a young Dustin Hoffman, except not as good looking:

Amiri, are you trying to seduce me?

It turns out there are quite a few reviews of Socialista in the blogosphere - none of them too flattering, further affirming the fact that bloggers are smart. Joonbug did a nice little recap. of Socialista if you want to read more.

My opinion is next time you are in the West Village do yourself a favor and keep walking by this place.

I was happily minding my own business when I received an e-mail from a good friend of mine titled “The Tsunami Song.” I scanned through it quickly, catching something about a satirical song based on the tsunami disaster and actions being taken against it. There were a couple of MP3s attached to the e-mail. Thinking it was just your typical PC-motivated forward, I filed it away.
A week later, I was reviewing my back e-mails and stumbled upon the tsunami e-mail. Out of boredom, I fired up the MP3 and was captivated by a heated exchange between two women on a radio show - later, I learned that the two radio personalities were “Miss Jones” and “Miss Info.” They were arguing over a satirical track produced by two employees of Hot 97 titled, “The Tsunami Song.”

Apparently, Miss Info was trying to separate herself from the proponents of the song, and had consequently caught the ire of Miss Jones. I listened with interest as Miss Jones spouted off like a chicken on crack for about five minutes straight, as Miss Info made several attempts to be diplomatic.

The exchange ended with some vague allusion to continuing the argument off-air, and then the tsunami song began playing.

The next several minutes, I experienced the most ignorant, racist, hatred-fueled, piece of shit I have ever heard in my entire life. Just to give you a small sample of the verbal diarrhea that polluted the airwaves, consider the following lyrics:

And all at once, you can hear the screaming chinks.
And no one was saved from the wave.
There were Africans drowning, little Chinamen swept away.
You can hear God laughing, ‘Swim you bitches swim.’

For those of you who are interested, the complete audio file and other multimedia content are available on the Asian Media Watch Web site.

The song stirred the Asian community throughout the country, as mass protests, petitions, and other activism ensued. Jin, from the Ruff Riders, went so far as to produce a track blasting Hot 97; and House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi released a statement in opposition to the song and the radio station.

Before long, a number of sponsors including McDonalds and Sprint had pulled their advertising from the show. It wasn’t long until WQHT fired morning-show producer Rick Del gado, who created the song, and morning-team member Todd Lynn, who joked, “I’m going to start shooting some Asians.”

Miss Jones, DJ Envy and production assistant Tasha Hightower were all suspended for two weeks. Miss Info, the radio personality who protested the song on the air, was not suspended, but has taken a leave-of-absence of her own volition.

It blows my mind that in this day and age, something so full of racism and anger could actually be produced and aired. When you consider that this crap was aired in the wake of an international tragedy, it just leaves me speechless.

Well, not really.

After spending time reading about the situation, I have decided to focus in on the exchange between Miss Info and Miss Jones.

It all started with Todd Lynn introducing the song by saying, “Starring Miss Jones in the morning show players.”

Miss Info quickly adds, “minus Miss Info.”

Suddenly, Lynn and Miss Jones begin berating Miss Info for distancing herself.

Info responds by stating in very diplomatic terms, that “the song is very offensive to [her],” and she “opts not to involve herself with it.”

Miss Jones suddenly begins wondering out loud, if Info disagrees with what they are doing, why she is on the show.

Info responds by saying she “supports” their right to say what they want, and goes so far as to add that in tragedies, humor is one viable option. She then adds, that personally, she doesn’t want to “deal with [the disaster] that way.”

Jones quickly responds by saying in so many words, “Who asked you for your opinion.”

What then ensues is about three minutes of Jones berating Info, telling her that she shouldn’t always voice her opinion; yelling about how she should leave the show if she disagrees with what they are doing; and that she feels superior because she is “Asian.”

Info attempts to reason with Jones, but is drowned out by Jones’ moronic tirade.

Although I feel that Info handled the exchange as the consummate diplomat, I couldn’t help but find myself wishing I had been in Miss Info’s shoes for just two minutes.

But I can’t, so all I can do is write.

Miss Jones, you raggedy-ass racist, ignorant, no-talent b@#@h!

What you and your team have done is the lowest form of filth in the universe. You have made a mockery out of a tragedy and sold it for your own gain. You’ve also disrespected the constitution, Asians around the world, hip-hop, your family and friends, everyone affected by the tragedy; and you’ve also done a disservice to African Americans around the country by spouting your mouth off like the bigot you are.

Now I know why I never heard about you or your “players” until you stuck your foot in your mouth. Its because you are nothing other than a no talent, loud-mouth jockey who would be forgotten two minutes after you leave the mic if it weren’t for the fact that people are going to remember you for your ignorance.

And Lynn - if you want to get a gun and shoot some Asians, you better make out a will you fat bastard because your eyes would be closed before you could say “chinaman.”

F- Miss Jones! F- the morning show players! And f- Hot 97!

Ahhhhh…that feels much better…..

Anyway, to sign the petitions,

• http://www.petitiononline.com/endhate/petition.html
• http://www.petitiononline.com/tsunmai7/petition.html