sign me right the fuck up
Minor Threat - Seeing Red
Beastie Boys feat. Cypress Hill - So Whatcha want
VANCOUVER HOCKEY RIOT 2011 END OF GAME START OF RIOT
BANGKOK — When Thailand’s top general speaks of coups, his words are read like tea leaves. Just as US economists decrypt the Federal Reserve chair’s verbiage, the Thai punditry analyzes their army chief’s phrasing down to the last syllable.
Thailand, paranoid over coups even in its best years, has shifted into round-the-clock coup watch. The nation’s dour military head honcho, Prayuth Chan-ocha, is the man who decides whether the tanks will roll. The general is now so beset by questions over potential plots that he recently snapped at the press.
“Why do you keep asking me so often?” he shot back.
But even that quip was dissected in hopes of glimpsing the general’s inner thoughts.
Since it left behind the direct rule of kings in the 1930s, the Southeast Asian nation has racked up 12 effective coups and 11 failed attempts. The nation has carried this bad habit into the 21st century. The last army takeover was just eight years ago. And now the Thai public is rightfully fretting some sort of coup will go down in 2014.
There are plenty of reasons to worry.
Photo by AFP/Getty Images
MEXICO CITY — It’s an hour before sunset on a Friday and the pulqueria is already pulsing.
Rock, cumbia and musica romantica beats from a jukebox along the back wall. Chattering drinkers pack tightly from the saloon-style swinging doors to the tile bar.
Heavily inked and pierced waiters wiggle through the throng, juggling sloshing pitchers and pints of what fans insist is the sap of Mexico’s ancient soul.
This is Las Duelistas, one of a surviving handful of down-market Mexico City dives serving “pulque” — say “pool-kay” — the mildly sour, slightly slimy and gently fermented nectar of agave.
Long the province of peasants and poor townfolk, pulque has been reborn this century as a buzz of choice among young, forward-leaning and better-heeled urbanites.
For those able to relish its taste and texture — admittedly still a select few — pulque provides a sip of the past, quaffed in the shadow of the modern.
It’s also just about $1.65 a pint, and a nearly hangover-proof means of getting hammered.
Photo by Keith Dannemiller