Never mind that it was a typical story about a young, black, male homicidal maniac. Never mind that there are newsworthy black people building the community. No, never mind all of that. I was happy simply because it was a black face on the cover. Hey, it's a start ... right? Someone please tell me it's a start.
The best place on Earth, my ass.
Sadly, SF Weekly joins the ranks of sensationalist, racist media when it presents its readership with yet another mug shot of an African-American male ("Portrait of the Soul-Jacker"). Would it not be more appropriate to concentrate on the real soul-jackers: police brutality, gentrification, abandoned industry, and institutional racism?
There is more to the Bernard Temple profile than the "sick fuck" characterizations attributed to him by the scores of police personnel and informants interviewed. What the Bayview wants is the community empowerment necessary to recover from systemic "soul-jacking," not another Willie Horton.
Thanks to SF Weekly for reporting on the Examiner's killing of Stephanie Salter's excellent excoriation of Nike (" 'The column wasn't killed,' Finefrock said. 'We chose not to run it.' " Unspun, March 26). Since Mayor Brown, wearing his cool new Nike fedora, helped inaugurate NikeTown in Union Square a couple of months ago in the face of massive picketing, Global Exchange has managed to keep a very effective vigil going. Show up any Saturday between noon and 2 p.m. People are also invited to the Bay to Breakers.
Whether one disagrees with George Cothran and Chuck Finnie over the placement of the Church Street disabled ramps (I do, but for safety reasons rarely discussed), any reader devoted to open debate should be appalled by their unnecessary and personal attacks on Church Street merchants ("Merchants of Menace," The Grid, April 2). How is the process of intelligent and informed debate, to which SF Weekly is presumably devoted, aided by having these two vindictive columnists labeling the small-business owners "obnoxious and selfish" and "star-quality jerks," or customers as concerned about only "soiled undies ... and lattes"? OK, my turn: You two are weenies. Now how is anybody in this grand city informed about issues by my labeling them weenies? I would expect more than the rantings of caustic columnists from an alternative paper.
In the March 19 Night Crawler, pub owner Myles O'Reilly's first name was misspelled. In the same column, Larry Doyle should have been identified as head chef for Stars.
We regret the errors.