We have every right to be in our home. We do not need to be spit upon. We do not need to be spray-painted. We do not need to be damaged. We do not need to be hated. We've done nothing to deserve that other than save and work and try for years to build something and have finally succeeded a little bit only to have a bunch of people who don't even know who they're vandalizing continually vandalize and attack us. This is not right. This is not right. And we're going to the District Attorney's Office with it and you can just rest assured that this is not the end of it. You're very, very unkind, irresponsible people.
Now, while Dog Bites has certainly been called "irresponsible" on a number of occasions (most of which had to do with the leaving of damp towels on the floor), and "unkind" on a few others, we would like to make a few points.
First, some people pay good money to be spit upon, and maybe even spray-painted, although that's a matter of personal preference -- which we want to emphasize that we respect and support as long as the activity goes on between consenting adults -- so watch those sweeping statements, huh?
And second, for the benefit of those who apparently once wore the little construction paper turtles to their fifth-grade reading groups, reporting on an event is not the same thing as supporting it.
And third, you don't get to call yourself a victim of a hate crime unless you are a member of a protected class. Last time we checked, that list didn't include "owners of condominiums in newly gentri-fied areas."
But hey, we've been wrong before.
We're Ba-aack
By the way, this column has not been canceled.
And yes, we realize that in recent weeks it has been somewhat small. One faxed note claimed this was an indication of Dog Bites' probable bulimia.
Anyway, there were reasons for the suddenly slender column, some having to do with space availability in the paper, and others having to do with Dog Bites' staff members' obligations to produce the Best Of San Francisco issue (and thereby to offend a number of readers who were mortified to discover in our item on Osento that here, in this very city, even as we speak, some women are naked).
However, we would like to take this time (and space! notice?) to reassure overwrought Dog Bites correspondent Carl Morfeld, who assumed the worst when he wrote:
It's sad, but not surprising, that Dog Bites, after being mysteriously downsized, is now "on vacation."
If this were happening to an Examiner columnist, you would be on it like a duck on a junebug -- Dog Bites is, how you say? charmed by you Americans and your quaint expressions -- but since you are forbidden (I expect) by management to ever give your readers the least clue as to what's going on behind the scenes at SF Weekly, I suppose we will never learn just what's up.
Tell us what's going on, or quit, but don't just lay down before your corporate masters in management-imposed silence. If you do, you've lost the trust of your readers. At least, get Nestor to bomb the bastards or ruin their yuppie cars!
Now, Carl: Our corporate masters are actually pretty cool, as evinced by the fact that the post-Best Of staff party had an open bar for several hours. As to your other dire suppositions, nothing much of interest does go on behind the scenes here at the Weekly -- though we'll be sure to keep you posted if that changes -- and sadly, nobody here in the editorial department drives a "yuppie car."
Till next week, then.
As told to Laurel Wellman
Tip Dog Bites -- especially if you're disgruntled. Phone 536-8139; fax 777-1839; e-mail dogbites@sfweekly.com.
