What's in a Name

Dog Bites felt bad for the San Francisco Bay Guardian last week. No, not the nauseated-bad that can result from reading the publication, but pity-bad -- the way you feel watching the shy, zit-infested guy stand against the wall at the high school dance, glowering, all alone, all night long. You see, last week our kind and beneficent master, SF Weekly, announced a business agreement with Bill Graham Presents, the producer that essentially created the popular music business in San Francisco, to rename the storied Warfield Theatre, which BGP manages. For at least the next few years, the venue will be known as the SF Weekly Warfield, which is fine with us, because if Dog Bites can't get free drinks at a place called the SF Weekly Warfield, then Dog Bites isn't barking up the right trees.

But for some reason, this not-very-remarkable sponsorship deal made Big Bruce Brugmann, Little Timmy Redmond, and many lesser Guardianistas go all crazylike -- and in public, too! It was like the renaming of a theater revealed a new conspiracy of some kind, the next JFK assassination or Chinatown water deal. It was like the SF Weekly Warfield constituted The Da Vinci Code, only with music. It was like ... sad. Really, really sad. (And, like most of what's published in the Guardian, really, really confusing.)

Dog Bites doesn't like to feel sad, and we certainly don't want the San Francisco Bay Guardian to feel all left out and jealous and teenage-furious. So as a public service, Dog Bites would like to remind all our friends at the Guardian that there are a lot of fish in the naming-rights sea, and many of them would just love to swim with Big Bruce and Little Timmy in the Guardianista pool of progressive certitude. Here are just a few of the many possible partnership deals that could benefit the Bay Guardian and the city of San Francisco, not to mention Dog Bites' overstretched heartstrings.

The Chronicle led its June 26 edition with a story about discrimination in the gay community, pegged to the accusations of racism at the Castro club SF Badlands -- a fine and newsworthy issue to address, but one requiring a certain sensitivity and delicacy in its handling. Naturally, the Chronicle decided to go with, ahem, butt-fucking. "GAYS AT RECEIVING END OF BIAS CLAIM," the headline read, and the story, by Wyatt Buchanan, picked up the innuendo and ran for the end zone: "They are among the most maligned groups in society, but when it comes to discrimination, many say, gays can give as good as they get." We did a spit-take -- it was the Sunday paper, after all. Immediately, Dog Bites wondered what other, more sensitive headlines the Chronicle might have chosen:

"BIAS CLAIM SETS GAYS AFLAME"

"BIAS CLAIM SETS GAYS' TONGUES WAGGING"

"BIAS CLAIM BRINGS GAYS TO THEIR KNEES"

"GAYS AT BUM END OF BIAS CLAIM"

"GAYS SHAFTED BY BIAS CLAIM"

"BIAS CLAIM JAMMED DOWN THROAT OF GAYS"

"BIAS CLAIM GIVES GAYS A MOUTHFUL"

"BIAS CLAIM GIVES GAYS AN EYEFUL"

"BIAS CLAIM SPRAYED ON GAYS' COLLECTIVE FACE"

"CAN GAYS BEAT OFF BIAS CLAIM?"

"IS THE GAY COMMUNITY STILL JERKING AROUND ITS AFRICAN-AMERICANS? COME ON."

"BIAS CLAIM: DISEASE OF RACISM SPREADS THROUGH THE GAY COMMUNITY LIKE PLAGUE"

"HOT, THROBBING BIAS CLAIM THRUST INTO SPREAD BUTTOCKS OF GAYS"

"GAYS REAMED BY BLACK, 10- INCH-LONG BIAS CLAIM WITH FIVE-DAY LOAD"

"GAYS FORCED TO SWALLOW BITTER (THOUGH SOMETIMES PALATABLE WITH ITS BRIELIKE AROMA AND FRESH-CUT-GRASS TANG) BIAS CLAIM"

Or maybe, in this case, it would be better to aim directly at the story's sweetly puckered rosebud:

"GAYS FUCKED"

(Brock Keeling and Tommy Craggs)