Archive for the ‘taverns’ Category

Cutting Down the Amerikan-style Bar Dependency

Posted: November 18, 2015 in aggressive lowlifes, alcohol, alcoholic dens, ale, ale houses, American Independence from the British Empire, Amerikan Empire, Amerikan political-economic nightmare, Anti-Saloon League, Bacchus, bank debit cards, bar conversations, bar owners, bar patrons, barrels, bars, bartenders, beers, binge drinkers, bodegas, booze, bordellos, brasserie, Canterbury Tales, capitalism, card games, carnival, casks, Chaucer, cities, clientelle, cocktails, community, concoctions, conflict, convenience stores, counters, cover charges, cultural personality, culture, customer marks, dignity, drinkers, drinking at home, drinking establishments, drinks, drunkeness, DUIs, Eighteenth-Ammendment, employees, Europe, European Civilization, extermination, eye candy, Falstaff, football, fraudsters, free drinks, freedmen, freedom, freeholders, gambling, game nights, Global Monopoly Capitalism, gun fights, hangouts, happy hours, hipsters, history, honor, hotels, idolatry, imprisonment, innkeepers, inns, Internet, kneipe, landlords, licensing, liquor stores, liquors, lock ins, lodging, loose women, male spaces, markets, mead, meat markets, modernity, money, monopolies, music, newspapers, nightclubs, oblations, opera houses, order out, owner class, PAN, partying, police, pool halls, prepared foods, Priapus, professional sports, Prohibition, pubs, repeal, rip-off joints, roads, Roman civilization, rudeness, salaries, saloons, savage capitalist system, scams, sensuality, Shakespeare, sloppy sex, small business owner class, soccer, social class, social inventions, speakeasies, spirits, supermarkets, tabernae, take outs, taverns, tenants, themed bars, tickets, tills, tipping scams, tips, toilets, trade, travel, travelers, US federal government, violence, visitors, wage slaves, wages, Wild West, wines, Woman's Christian Temperance Movement, Woman's Crusade 1873, women
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 Roman tabernaeOlde Roman daysChaucer's Tabard Inn story hourFalstaff with a roundWild West saloon after hoursAmerican speakeasyAmerican sports barAmerican old man bar

ready to serve you assholesBar service please

Some social inventions have endowed humanity’s diversity for millennium. The public market was one such social invention, but modern capitalism exterminated that one.

The monopolies of print newspapers were definitely not one of them. Idolatry and innuendo of the printed word can only go so far, and thankfully, the Internet is destroying that media. European civilization did gift the world two good things however: the game of football, or soccer as we say in the States, and public drinking establishments.

Yet, I now despise bars. I used to enjoy visiting such alcoholic dens. But even when a few bars have had good tasting food to offer – I cannot do it anymore – nor can I afford it anymore. I have seen the light of Reason. But a more important question begs to order: what happened to public drinking establishments in the States? The American Revolution was partly started in urban taverns, and the Wild West lived inside of western saloons.

We must return to Roman civilization. The first bars were actually Tabernae, or taverns. These little stores and eating-drinking establishments had the complete bottom floor to the roads. The owners were often freedmen who got into the trade in order to supply urban dwellers and other visitors ready-made, cheap foods and cheap drinks.

There was not much mead, nor bier, or beer, in those Roman cities. Instead, the cauponis, or innkeepers, served vino, or wine, out of cool, large wooden casks, called cellae, with the most expensive regional grape representing Falernia. The first bars or taverns were more similar to the small convenience stores with large wine barrels, now called bodegas, currently found all over Spain.

Thanks to this popular Roman experiment in social class climbing and cheap oblations, the invention spread all over European civilization, from the steppes of the Rus, or Russia, to the hills of Hibernia, or Ireland, from the fjords of Norvege, or Norway, to the mountains of Iberia, or Spain. Europeans would never lose their shoddy reputations as the Kings of Binge Drinkers and ad-hoc partying. Roman Carnival just never ended for all of them: Bacchus, (Drink), Pan, (Music), and Priapus, (Sloppy Sex). In our absurd contemporary world, we can now add, football, or Soccer, into the sensual mix.

German culture had the kneipe, while French culture preferred the brasserie. The Spanish set up mesones. For the sake of this essay, I will not list every European name for a bar-drinking establishment, as the reader could surely find a specific name for such places in every European language, from Turkish to Breton, and from Frisian to Basque. The American version takes its lift from British culture.

Britain had its alehouses, which were private drinking establishments with a 24 hour, seven-day a week, lock ins. These places were in pre-Norman invasion Britain. At least one thing survived the Anglo-Norman shock troops.

It was during the late 13th century that the first public houses, or pubs, appeared, often run by tenants paying a fee for serving the brew master’s ales, or through freeholders, who owned the entire operation.

These public drinking establishments became such a rage that England’s greatest authors celebrated the local cultures that swam in such saloons, or particular entertainment rooms, filled with storytelling, songs, music and games. Chaucer’s setting for the Canterbury Tales took place at the roadside Tabard Inn, while the notorious Shakespearean character, Falstaff, was often found half-drunk, or pissed, at the Boar’s Head Inn.

Due to the hazards of road travels in those medieval days, many pubs were similar to travelers inns and taverns, which served special drinks and prepared foods. Some places had shared bed lodging, so the drinkers could snore and sleep off the hard water alcohol. The inns generally served beer and ale, while the taverns also served wines.

When the States was the colonial American Plantations, taverns became the premier social space for American men. In Boston, the historical legend states that the first plotters began their talks for American independence inside the Green Dragon Tavern.

As the United States moved west, the first saloons opened their doors for men, which were essentially taverns that served mainly whiskey, beer, sweet wine and other strange concoctions. These saloons also had gambling, such as tilted machines, dice draws, and card games. Other saloons attached themselves to bordellos of loose women, the so-called ‘opera house’ for cheap entertainment, or the local hotel.

Once the US Federal government ‘closed the western frontier’ and ended any ‘wild west’ freedom, about 100 years ago, the first state licensed bars emerged. The bars took their style from the original pub counters in Britain – without the saloon theatrics. Gun fights in the bars now led to arrests and imprisonment. The origins of bars were more medicinal, since certain sick people could take spirits in order to soothe their pains.

With the Woman’s Crusade of 1873, the Woman’s Christian Temperance Movement and the Anti-Saloon League gaining in political favor, the saloon-bar was a marked entity. The US Federal Government passed the Eighteenth amendment to the Constitution, and the drinking establishments ceased to exist – except for the illegal Speakeasies. This period was Prohibition.

After the repeal of Prohibition in the 1930s, the saloon transformed into a wild west side-show, and the bar took over everything, with taverns only designating food service with booze. Bars were also open to both men and women. The meat market scene began with both young and old men trying to chat with, and hopefully lay, the women visitors.

In towns across America, each bar snatched a particular, cultural personality. There were the dive bars for the drunks and cheap losers, old men bars for the elderly drunks and cheap losers, cowboy bars, local bars, cop bars, gay-lesbian bars, black bars, (for the Blacks), vato bars, (for the Mexicans), driller bars, (for the oil and gas workers), and miner bars. With the success of professional sports in American life, and especially the NFL, during the 1970s, the sports bar emerged with multiple television sets on the walls.

In the Amerikan Empire, we now have themed bars, from Metal to Folk, and from Punk to ‘Decadent,’ or whatever that means. Bars have used every imaginable enticement in order to fleece more money from the customer-marks. They regularly employ happy hours, free crappy food days, lady’s nights, DJ-band cover charges, game nights, trivia nights and holiday bashes with expensive entrance tickets. The old demarcations between bars and private nightclubs have blurred.

The pool hall is falling into the relic of historical memory – while hopefully, the latest incarnation of the Amerikan bar will end up there too. Why would a Doctor Historian Anarchist wish for such a thing?

Walking into an American bar is like invading the private den of an enemy. Our current incarnations of bars have lost their community soul. Even the local bar in the small town is dying. Many of the people visiting such establishments represent the lumpen refuse of the Amerikan political-economic nightmare.

Most of the patrons have serious drinking problems, terrible physical maladies, or mental issues – or all the above together. The conversations are either one person monologues that display horrendous suffering, or they represent aggressive-paranoia, back and forth bantering. I have never been able to have an enlightening talk with another person inside those places. I have been able to converse with others inside weirdo cafes – while loaded with caffeine.

The consummation of heavy doses of alcohol with extreme global monopoly capitalism has murdered the bar vibe. This is the reason we should cut down the bar dependency: global monopoly capitalism.

Bars often have owners who personify the worst elements of the small business owner class. Some years ago, I remember visiting a bar run by so-called Anarcho-Syndicalists in a hipster west coast city, and I later found out that the employees did not even receive wages – only tips! And those guys were supposedly fighting the Class War in the employee’s name? There are hundreds of bars across the States where the owners don’t even pay their employees basic wages.

Due to the nastiness of the owners, the tipping scam is out of control in those rip off joints. At restaurants, Americans generally tip 20% for the final bill of service. But in bars, the bartenders expect at least a dollar tip for every drink served! Most bars now have drinks that at least cost five dollars or more, so a dollar plus per drink means 20% per order. If you decide to act the gentleman and pay for a few rounds, the customer is looking at a good amount of his or her salary falling into bartender tips. If you don’t follow this code, you might have the bartender slip some Visine eye wash into your next order – and straight to the restroom you will run.

Intelligent patrons know that using a bank-debit card in a bar is a dangerous proposition. In American bars, you must only use cash. When the bartender’s friends come in for a visit, which they regularly do, then guess who is paying for the ‘free drinks’?

When the bartenders are not dipping into the owner’s till for their lost wages – then the rest of the drinks are on you. If you forget your card and leave it overnight, then you might as well take a deep monetary hit.

Finally, both bar owners and bartenders are generally rude cretins. I have rarely encountered a gentleman-gentlewoman bartender or bar owner working inside an American drinking hole. I have encountered plenty of obnoxious and rude assholes – and they still expect you to tip them 20%!

How many actual bartenders know how to pour a beer, mix a cocktail or even serve properly a glass of wine? There are very few left. In our savage capitalist system, more and more low skilled, jack of all trades people now work behind the bar counter. They might dress well, have a tight friendship with the owner, and if they are attractive women, create a certain eye candy – but they are not true bartenders.

Our bars have even become part of the grand American Pyramid Scheme. We pay inflated prices on cheap drinks in order to feel happy for a very short period in our transient lives; meanwhile the bar owner and bartender openly detest us. They might say hello and do a little idle chatter with us, but their eyes always betray their hate and murder. We continue to flush our money down their till toilets.

We do have options. We could simply visit the local liquor store, convenience store or supermarket down the street. Buy paying less for more product, we might also have some money left over for food, like a delicious round of pizzas. We can enjoy the booze and food all within the good community of family and friends.

We ought to reject the fears of encountering bar owner-bartender scam artists, and the aggressive lowlifes who regular visit dive bars in order to commit violent acts. We don’t even have to worry about getting DUIs, where the police normally haunt bars in order to destroy people’s lives.

Submitting to a supposedly cool, fraudster-hipster hangout is just not worth the destruction of our honor, nor the loss of our basic human dignity, nor even playing slaughter house chicken with our fragile lives.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gun Culture Exhibit B: Real Self-Defense Training

Posted: April 21, 2014 in academic conferences, adrenalin, alcohol, Amerikan Empire, ammunition, Anarchists, Anarcho-gun owners, anger, anti-donut cop training, authority, auto-defense techniques, border cultures, border towns, brutality, cafes, charges, citizens, civil rights, civil rights duties, code white, code yellow, college educated, concentration, control, cops, cowardice, crime, criminals, cruelty, culture, dangerous places, death, district attorneys, dive bars, donut cops, DUI, ego-self, elites, employment, enemies, extremes of wealth, fags, family, fancy rip-off bars, felonies, forgiveness, free to go, freedom, frustration, gangbangers, gay subculture, gringos, gun owners, guns, harsh laws, history, honesty, honor, horrible salaries, human condition under civilization, humanity, hypocrisy, imprisonment, institutional violence, jobs, justice, legal privileges, letting go, liars, life, live gun fire, low wages, lowlife indigents, Matthew Shepard, mental awareness, mental discipline, mental freedom, mental trauma, Mexico, mindfulness, muggers, murder, murder victims, no consent to searches, partying, perpetrators, perps, police, police brutality, police gangs, practice, prisons, prosecutors, redneck, remain silent, right actions, right attitude, scam productions, self-defense, self-defense practice, self-defense techniques, shootings, slumming, social classes, social groups, socio-economic groups, speak to an attorney, state repression of alcohol, street gangs, street hustlers, students, subcultures, Sun Tzu, taverns, The Art of War, the Law, the past, the State, the violent, tourist touts, two-tired justice system, vengeance, violence, Wild West
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Buddhist monks in meditationColorCodesAwareness1Martial-ArtsLive fire practiceMatthewShepardFireside lowlife bar Laramie

Spring at the Border was coming together. A personal renaissance was brewing its smoke inside of me once again. I had just visited a despicable academic conference in the western States, and had sworn to never attend one of those scam productions ever again. I had learned a valuable lesson. I decided to celebrate my recent wisdom, and my recent attainment of a useless PhD degree in six years, by visiting a US-Mexican border town – but on the Mexican side.

I had always loved the explorations of North American border cultures, the wild Mexican culture meeting the Empire of ‘Gringolandia.’ I had Mexican friends that lived in the same border town and I could hang with them – and which was what I did. I was partying every night and loving the street life and struggle around me. I even felt compassion for the Mestizo tourist touts and lowlifes that hung around the center of town just to harass the gringo visitors. With all the fleeting happiness that I had felt, I had also forgot an important truth to life. The world in which we must survive is also evil, bad, unjust, hypocritical, criminal and brutal.

Then Sunday came, and even in the wild Mex-Border Town, most everything was shut. I soon found an open cafe with wireless Internet, and saw a Mexican couple sitting inside too. It was near the hostel I was staying at – but the street was eerily deserted. I spent some hours sitting in there enjoying my Internet browsing and nursing my latte coffee drink. I was loving life in code white.

And then towards the end of the afternoon, a criminal vermin sprinted into the cafe quickly and suddenly. I saw the Mexican couple startled when he pointed the gun at them, and then the scum pointed his gun at me.

My adrenalin went into overdrive. Everything slowed down. I carried a knife on me during that period, but I was so stunned physically and mentally that my body moved slowly and roughly. I got up from the table, and the excrement threatened again to shoot me. He ran off with my laptop and the laptop of the Mexican couple. I had just bought that laptop from a web designer too.

And then I had a terrible realization, both of my back up flash drives were connected to the same laptop during the robbery. I understood that I had lost a few personal documents forever. I made a major system backup some six months previous – but six months is a long time. I horribly lost a personal journal that I had written in both English and Spanish. My only consolation was that both backup flash drives had most of my personal documents encrypted. I began to cry. The local Mexi-police arrived, and like usual, did nothing. I walked back to my lonely room in the hostel and entered a world of desperation and excruciating mental trauma. I had to talk with my Mexican friends about such a horrifying incident.

My Mexican friends consoled me, but they also spoke the truth to me. I should not have visited that border town. Border towns are just too dangerous to visit these days. I was a foreigner and I was even more of a target than they were. And they were completely right.

In Mexico, the foreign visitor cannot defend him or herself either. I was totally disarmed during the encounter. According to the ‘Law,’ only the government thugs-narcos have permission to carry weapons and use them on civilians. Americans carrying guns in Mexico can expect a lengthy prison term nowadays. But even if I had a gun on me, with all of the adrenalin dope running up and down my body and soaking my brain, I probably would not have been able to use the weapon properly during that awful situation. In truth, I shouldn’t have been in that cafe on the deserted street corner, and most importantly, I shouldn’t have been in that border town. I had experienced another horrible life warning – never again to forget. Self-defense is not so much about fighting, but awareness.

A lot of gun guys on the Internet love to boast their ‘tough guy’ credentials, such as ‘try prying my gun out of my cold dead hands, or ‘better being judged by twelve, then carried out by six,’ and other macho-male cowardly crap. These Internet liars are a terrible danger in American gun culture. And it is not just the boasting gun guys. I have heard pseudo-alpha male bullshit coming out of the martial arts black belt dudes, saying how they could rip a gun easily out of some criminals’ hands, or that they could have easily gotten behind the perpetrator and broken his neck. Yeah right. Too many of us gun owning citizens have been listening to and reading such nonsense.

Self-defense is real. But it begins and ends with mental awareness – not doing rolls on the karate mat or even doing weapon live fire once per week. Mental awareness is actually the hardest skill to master, but without any mental discipline, all of our martial physical practices are useless. Sun Tzu, the ancient philosopher, in his Art of War, mentions this discipline.

The first practice and discipline of Mental Awareness implies living our day-to-day lives in code yellow – not code white. Code white has our minds distracted, in fantasy la-la land, and preoccupied over mental garbage. Code yellow keeps our minds in mindfulness, aware of our breathing, walking, sitting, listening, seeing, sensing-analysis of our immediate environment, and most importantly, where our ‘go-to weapon’ is – in case of emergency.

The second practice and discipline of Mental Awareness forces us to analyze our common choices and actions. Principally, we have to understand what social group we fit into. We all fit into some social class distinction. Being honest works.

Do we outwardly represent college educated young people with middle class tastes? Then, we should not do a nighttime partying venture into the rough side of an urban cauldron where young, lumpen class gangbangers, street hustlers and desperate muggers proliferate. Nor ought we to set foot into the biker bar, cowboy bar or the redneck bar for some ‘slumming fun.’ Does the bar have a reputation for fighting and brawling, or does the cafe or restaurant feature the regular visits of our personal enemies or ex-whatevers – inclusive of their jealous boyfriends and girlfriends? Then we need to visit another cafe or restaurant in town. We do have choices in life – and we need to make the intelligent ones. This basic survival guide goes for whatever neighborhood, city, region, land or country that we visit.

The third practice and discipline of Mental Awareness implies practicing our Civil Rights Duties against the cop gangs. Some of us have seen the videos of heroic citizens defending their rights at police encounters, police traffic stops and at uniform checkpoints – but if we don’t practice our rights regularly, and inside the privacy of our homes, then we will not feel ready for our own future donut cop encounters. We are all perps now.

Experiencing the sudden presence of an Amerikan donut cop is quite scary. It prompts the same ‘hunted feelings’ as dealing with a criminal attack: our adrenalin energy immediately spurts into the red zone. Cops know this, and so they try to get us to talk and blabber. This is the worst thing we could do. Even the slightest comment could legally incriminate us.

We must ask the police officer, if ‘we are free to go,’ and if not, then ‘invoking our rights to remain silent and asking to speak to our attorneys.’ If the donut wants to search our bodies or our vehicles, then we need to make clear to the law enforcement officer that ‘we do not consent to any searches.’ Practicing these imaginary scenarios at home will make sure that we run a smooth operation against any live encounter with the Amerikan ultimate police gang state. Nervous potential perps also make the cop-gangers nervous. – and suspicious.

The fourth practice and discipline of Mental Awareness implies letting go of the past and a general forgiveness of the bad things people have done to us. Forgiveness does not mean that we need to go out, look for and befriend our past enemies. Instead, we need to understand that the past died within the past worlds. Our pasts no longer exist in our lives. We are different people now and we must move on and live life. If we drag the past with us, then we will fall into frustration, next anger, and eventually, will commit criminal acts – when we begin to think that vengeance matters more than our freedom.

The fifth and last discipline of Mental Awareness is basic knowledge of the laws. Nowadays, living in the infernos of the Amerikan Empire, there are thousands upon thousands of felony statutes: municipal, state and federal. Unlike the old days in the American West, we cannot legally defend ourselves against potential threats, insults to our honor, and even against actual physical threats. After any act of self-defense, including a home invasion, we will probably have to undergo the horror of the American legal system.

State prosecutors have the criminal authority to charge us for attempted murder, or if we are lucky, manslaughter. It all depends on their political whims. The miscreant’s family might want to sue us for everything we own in civil court. Unless we are members of the economic and political elites, we are all slaves to the cruel fiat of the Amerikan legal nightmare. We should never forget that we live inside of an Empire with both the highest prisoner population in the world, and the world’s largest percentage of prisoners to the general population. The Amerikan prison-concentration camp-gulag is always on the prowl to destroy more lives.

Out West, we recount the tragic story of Matthew Shepard. Matt Shepard was a smart, multi-talented university student at the University of Wyoming in Laramie, and he came from a high social class background. His dad was a respected oil company engineer and his family lived in places like Saudi Arabia.

The kid studied in Switzerland, while he could converse in German and Italian. He could also keep up an intelligent discourse on history, politics and culture, and he had an extensive musical collection. Matt looked different too. He was not athletic, but had a good sense of clothes style and decorum in his demeanor. He was also liberated sexually, or commonly called, ‘openly gay.’

Matt Shepard had his group of friends at university and when they wanted to party, once in a while, they did the drive to the only gay bar and cool dance place in the region – all the way to Ft. Collins, Colorado. In the 1990s, DUI crimes began to inflate and the jails began to open up – even out west, so the three-hour ride back and forth, Laramie-Ft. Collins, became a risky venture.

On the night of October 7th, 1998, Matt Shepard wanted to party, and he was alone at home. He lived in a small apartment near downtown Laramie. Instead of waiting for another night, or just buying some booze from a local liquor store, the smartly dressed, up and coming university graduate, decided to ‘slum it.’ He was going to visit the rough bar in town, the infamous Fireside Lounge – alone and unarmed.

The Fireside was the typical western dive with pin-up ‘girls’ stapled to the walls, sports crap pasted along the rafters, and a taxidermied American Buffalo head over the bar. It was definitely not a drinking place for the likes of Matt Shepard.

The dive attracted the worst sort in town. Also inside, were two trailer living, lumpen class losers involved in petty crime and odd jobs with some criminal history. The two western trash bums noticed the outsider already. The low, bottom-eating crap always notices the differences between their harsh world and the higher class of people. There was ‘something up’ with the college kid at the bar – a fag – a helpless weirdo? Later in the night, they decided to give the kid a ride – and then they murdered him for fun.

We Anarchists that are gun owners need to keep this story, and our own embarrassing experiences, in the file storage of our minds. We are outwardly different, smart, well-read, dignified, artistically inclined, and most importantly, we are open to the freedom around us. A majority of the people on Earth are not into these things. Most two-legged animals tend to fall into the dishonorable victim category, or the prey of life – and they don’t know their victimizers. They don’t like to read, nor do they write letters. They are angry and frustrated about living. Yet, we suffering humans – all have the potential to commit murder.

In truth, we are able to embrace some real self-defense – not martial arts moves and just buying more guns for the sake of buying guns – but instead, maintaining our mental disciplines. We can always stay in code yellow, being mindful, aware, and concentrated when performing daily tasks. We should try to avoid the dangerous snares across our paths: fancy rip-off bars or taverns where the violent come to die, unsafe, unlit areas, menacing situations with nasty people, and locales where our enemies like to hide and lurk. We could also regularly practice our anti-donut cop training, so that we will keep silent and composed when under the glare of the state gangs. As Anarchists, we have the courage in letting go of our pasts, embracing mental freedom – and just moving on. We now breathe, walk and act, while we daily strengthen our minds – the first line of auto-defense techniques.