Showing posts with label Drinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drinking. Show all posts

20 September 2017


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why untitled/unmarked? google street view
I almost never talk in normal prose on this blog, because I see no reason to indulge passive reading or people who can’t read past language. This time though, since this isn’t actually my own opinion, instead an actual attack on me because of the blog, I’m going to write to you in ‘proper’ English.

Suwu is a restaurant that’s on the same street as me, basically. I live on Prince Arthur/Laval. They’re on St-Laurent one door south of prince Arthur. So, I might consider Suwu a place in my neighborhood. They advertise themselves as such on twitter. Neighborhood is an interesting term to use for a bar with the name of a blood call. The restaurant itself has no distinguishing markers outside. It’s an all black storefront in the new post-post-color world. Blaring from their expensive speakers is, often, a song off To Pimp a Butterfly. That’s a favorite of all bars who call themselves hiphop. More specifically, I’ll guess the song is King Kunta, a record enjoyed by various colors from rich-merc-driving-botox women to the Canadian hockey team.

Let’s then think about what this song is about.

A slave in Alex Haley’s Roots, Kunta Kinte was whipped into conceding that his name is Toby and not Kunta. Then he had his foot cut off because he tried to escape the plantation. Let’s further assume that all this is reasonable of a slave narrative. You can’t expect a plantation owner to do anything different. Dark bodies were commodities white people profited off of. (As an aside, a predominantly white person who tries to say they have a mixed ancestor needs to renounce their citizenhood and think for a second whether or not it’s ok that they can choose to side with the side of their “heritage” that was disadvantaged. Think about whether or not you can exist in this world as you are if you were fully this side of heritage.) Kendrick Lamar aligns himself as a modern day Kunta Kinte who tries to evade the record industry qua plantation, but succeeds and creates an acclaimed piece of black music. Kinte inverts into a regal epithet of “King.” The slave narrative is still present, but the heritage is taken as a point of pride to taunt the dominant culture that does not quite allow it. Move back a level and think of how the record executives think of this. White man is probably not too happy that a black man is talking about how he’s black and disadvantaged in an empowering way.

Now, let’s think about what a white person profiting off of playing this song is doing. They pay the recording industry that actively stops black people from making this sort of music unless they have a gangster appeal and can sell to the white demographic. An exception, Kendrick Lamar happens to transcend this divide. Or is it an exception. Maybe the gangster appeal is a sort of aspiration this demographic tries to reflect in themselves. Yet, bottom line, the person playing this music at their establishment plays a hot record to please their crowd. This, for now, we’ll say is fine. Kendrick Lamar, for all his Blood ties and Compton roots, does transcend the gangster rap paradigm.

Now let’s think about someone who went to high school with Kendrick Lamar, influenced Kendrick Lamar, is also indebted to G-Funk, sells quite well himself, is a sort of a legend in his own right. This would be “The Game.” This fall, Game released two heavily Blood-influenced and massively popular albums, The Documentary 2 and The Documentary 2.5. Notably, on 2.5, there is a song, which people would call a banger, featuring two very popular rappers, Ty Dolla Sign and YG, both Bloods. At the beginning of each interior verse, suwu/suwoo/soowoo is sung three times as an overlapping texture. I guess, we’ll attribute this to each rappers asserting their affiliation. Now, let’s look further at the lyrics.

You ain’t never been dropped off in the jungles
Teared Khakis, red bandana wrapped around your knuckles

Game raps that the people listening to this song pretending to be gangsters have never been thrown into “the jungles.” Both connoting the animalistic aggression of gang-infested Compton, jungle also hints at the foliage characteristic of southern California. “Jungle” is far from a term uniquely found in the Game’s lexicon. Rather, this is a term widely used from Drake about a Toronto neighborhood named Lawrence Heights to Cam’ron about Harlem. Also notable, this jungle fever qua aesthetic is widely used as a potentially endearing term relaying white people’s attraction for black people, or tendency for ‘black’ behavior. Trace it back further, we get to white supremacy grand-father / literary icon / most white people’s first childhood exposure to Africa, Rudyard, “White Man’s Burden” and a Nobel, Kipling’s Jungle Book. We don’t really need to think too hard about the Jungle Book, but let’s think a bit about a bar that has a jungle aesthetic full of fake plants and hip hop music.

As a quick gloss, “Red Bandana” refers to a characteristic blood banner that gang-members carry to identify. Say, the physical double for the shout, suwu/suwoo/soowoo.

For simple paraphrasis, in this couplet, Game tells his listeners that they’ve never been to the projects or had to wear blood symbols to protect themselves. Again on the topic of exploited blacks, the record industry may sell this, and it is at the discretion of who ever chooses to profit off of this, but Game explicitly warns people against using jungle themes or blood aesthetics. Let’s consider for a second, individually, what the implications of a bar with a blood call name and a jungle décor represents.

On to the next lyric.

Flag on the left side claiming you a Blood
Blue rag on the right side calling niggas cuz
Bout to get your mark ass chalked out on the West

To define a few terms, “flag” and “rag” are the same as the above defined “bandana.” So to quickly get a meaning of these lines, when a blood member meets a crip, “blue,” member, and uses “cuz,” the blood version of “bro,” the crip will be killed, and “chalked out” by police.

We’ll say that this only occurs in gang hot beds in America and certainly not in Montreal, where the history of redlining, of blood-crip violence is very inconsequential, save of course, for the proliferation of gangster music that traces back in almost everycase to the blood-crip binary. Now that gangster rap is a popular mainstream genre, people may make money by playing it at a bar, for example, or using gang aesthetic for their establishments’, say, “vibe.”

So, back to suwu/suwoo/soowoo. As a blood call, an aural text that has no fixed transcription, any spelling is a derivative of the sound. Yet, as there seems to be more hits on google with suwoo, this seems to be the preferred form. Yet, again, Lil’ Wayne, another name that dominates rap bars’ playlists, titles his song “Soowoo.” As for “suwu,” we might imagine this to be the simplest way of spelling it, but also with a chink (or generally east asian) tinged look. Now say, a restaurant were to offer Tsingtao and some sort of Asian food, like say Korean bbq or used the chink 海鲜 (hoisin) sauce, or maybe had a drink named “wu-tang,” someone may be inclined to think, to think, that there is a strange fetishization of non-white culture. Su Wu, a han dynasty chink diplomat, happens to also be a chink idol for patriotism and resilience. Add in the fact that Su Wu was aided by the xiongnu, ancestors of this text editor, and maybe there exists a personal insult to be explored. But again, one may simply be inclined “to think.” Or inclined to write, or inclined to exercise language.

Now if one were to look at a certain menu and find drinks such as “lil’ cease” or “apple bottom” or “big bootie hoe” (perhaps most egregious), one could again be inclined to think that an appropriation of ebonics is happening. “lil’ cease,” apostrophe and all, appears to be a way to say Caesar, not quite a standard west island, white Anglophone way of talking. Again, “apple bottom” seems to refer to tribe called quest’s “bonita applebum” or flo rida’s “get low.” Both songs appear to objectify a woman’s ass. Now, “big bootie hoe” may provide us the most intriguing use of non-standard white language. Maybe this is speaking of gardening tools, or this could be a white male with jungle fever lusting after a black woman’s stereotyped big ass. Hmmm. Ok.

Now in this hypothetical bar, if one were to look, one would find an owner, white, taking pictures with dreadlocks. If one were to look at a hypothetical bar’s owner that is.

So, for all the uncanny references in these past 1000 or so words, I did comment on suwu’s facebook event about their use of gang terms. This was promptly deleted and I received an invitation to talk. Now, let’s look at these messages with the owner Zach Macklovitch.

So, suwu is apparently short for Saintwoods. Interesting. It seems that something along the lines of Saiwoo would be more “short for saintwoods.” Maybe Zach enjoys assonance. Or, maybe this man, as he admits “I mean I am aware of the blood reference but it’s not a racial term,” just appreciates the euphony that gangs use in their language. Also, I’m not sure if anyone can deny that gangs are not a direct product of white racism and oppression. Seems interesting then that someone can accept that their restaurant/ “neighborhood” bar (my bold (myblod?)) uses a term that incites violence.

Then zach says that these gangs don’t exist in montreal. Sure, but the music exists, and his hip hop bar would not exist in montreal without gangs either. That I am the only person to comment on this in 3 years seems even more interesting. Maybe there is a larger complicity for white kids or whoever that listens to gangster rap without understanding the music. Maybe I am privileged because I appreciate the music enough to try and understand why it was formed instead of using euphony to sell drinks named “big bootie hoe” to white kids entering a bar named after what is essentially a death knell to young black men.


“I’ve never exploited rap…I’m a major promoter of independent and up and coming rappers and none of them have ever said anything”

Maybe the racial binary where whites hold power in business negotiations doesn’t exist. Maybe record labels who will tell someone to change their music, major promoters of up and coming rappers, and helpers of independent rappers, have also never exploited rap. Maybe I should open a restaurant that serves jewish food named heil hitler.

Now zach criticizes my blog, which I guess is fair because I criticized his business. Yet, I don’t think my criticism of him making money off of selling a brand named after a blood cry and playing hip hop music is quite the same as me writing a blog about my experiences and thoughts as a chink trying to recreate a chink identity. 

SUWU as a title objectifies black men as thugs and gangsters. Their beloved drink, the "big bootie hoe," objectifies black women as sex objects. Their owner, in doing this, provides an exceptional service to whites with jungle fever and a love of ignorance. Anyone I personally know in Montreal reading this goes to university. If you attend higher education and don’t value the importance of language, maybe you should try to think about what meaning is left in your life without language. If you love having fun at SUWU, maybe you should think about how much fun you had as a kid saying “retard” or “fag.” But now these words get full on attention campaigns, as they should. Yet you love saying stupid shit from “thug” to “big bootie hoe” to “suwu.”

Maybe it’s because these words don’t affect you as white people. Maybe it’s because you as white people feel guilty that you are complicit in creating the gang violence. Maybe you think that living in Montreal provides a safe buffer from American gang violence. What if the bar was named hell’s angels? What if it was named after a white person slang or slur? What if it didn't make you feel “black” or hipster to go? What if you were implicated in the creation of racism? But you also incessantly talk about the American election as if you had a stake in it. And gang violence and racism is just another thing you sweep under the rug and don’t try to understand. Keep at this and we’ll all see the decay of language and decay of meaning. We’ll all be white kids with dreadlocks and gang tattoos throwing up suwu signs like it's cool.

Maybe I’m defensive and took this as a personal threat. Maybe a white man is upset at me because I pointed out a questionable thing in his business. Maybe I’m playing the victim. Maybe he’s a victim of himself. Maybe suwu is ok to say. Maybe a place that gives people happy times is good. Maybe white people making money off of racially insensitive material is ok. Maybe borat is a great representation of Kazakhstan. Maybe suwu is a satire as well. Maybe satire like borat is tasteful. Maybe suwu is tasteful. Maybe I’m just wrong and just another chink that doesn’t know my place in the world and needs to be told. Maybe a white man is allowed to make money off of a blood call. Maybe insensitivity is great. Maybe I’m just too sensitive.

16 April 2016


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this the kind of grainy feel we going for


a chink about to go to the annals of way back and give you what you need: some food blog shit. Kind of. a chink gonna give you his proposal for the long talked about chinkstaurants. after eating out for a while, a chink been thinking like shit, nobody really make food for chinks by chinks, we need that shit. not just food for chinks, rather food for  chinks. damn, new York times and them stupid ass white bois always talking about migrants in Beijing and goofy ass cities and shit like that, but what about the chinkpeasants in their own country? no white boi gonna give a fuck about a chink living in some wack ass dormitory adjacent from a sewer pathway or a chink whose relatives are these sewer bois or a chink who was one of these kinds of people.

before giving you what you need, a chink gonna define for you what it means to be and how to say the magical incantation of 

 /ʂa̠n55/ meaning mountain
in a chink’s hometown peasant ass , we say /san/ so this how you should hear it in your head

 /xa̠n51/ meaning sweat, chink, Chinese, etc. so here were using the chink meaning

a chink assumes you’re not stupid and you can figure out how to define a compound word so a chink is not gonna define for your stupid ass

so that being said, we’ve established the reason for this restaurant.

let’s write a ledger for this:

Purpose: to open a chinkstaurant made for, cooked by

good that’s out of the way


first off, if you’re white, take a step back and think about this without projecting yourself in this shit, we’ve already established that this blog not directed at you, you just feature every now and then as some comic relief. long duk dong? hmmmmmmm. yeah so you white douche dick(?) alright there’s your disclaimer
(well maybe that was a little bit late and should’ve been placed a bit earlier on)
(but you’re probably white so you just want everyone to share so whatever, who cares, just read it) (lol) (so pale) (chinks so stupid for thinking white skin good) (maybe not so good, maybe sickly, pale, empty…)

yeah so a chink assumer that if you understood the subtext behind this DISCLAIMER, you get that this is not a chinkstaurant where whitebois are welcome or accommodated(?) [gaspmoji] shit, somewhere I’m not wanted? damn

rewind a little bit, cool it like I’m rolling off that—

so the only people welcome generally will be
·      chinks who can read chink script
·      chinks who not got their heads so high up their rectum that they’re basically white
·      chinks who down to experiment
·      chinks who aren’t afraid to have something their parents look down upon
·      chinks who don’t look down upon other darkskinned chinks and think they’re peasant, except, well, a chink, this chink, in particular, actually, in fact, is, affirmatively, a  (a chink hope that at this point, you know what this term means) ok (actually, I, now, here, as text editor wanted to clarify something on the part of poorhomiewei, so in chinkland, not so many fields and hay praries and stupid shit like that, boondocks, Ozarks, southwester france shit frogs exist, so our peasants kind of just live in the mountains and stuff. ok that’s good. [take a step back]. Exit text editor upstage. (off the stage (into the audience? yes))) ok we’re good
·      chinks who don’t think they’re too good to kick back now and then, or all the time with some MSG (most sacred garnish), some good old fashioned 地沟油 (Enter text editor upstage. this we need to define. I’ll define this now. yeah, so in chinkland, we don’t really want to wast shit (lolno), but especially not oil, so we go around at night and recuperate the used oil of various restaurants and, as the title indicates, gutters. don’t be worried, tastes great, maybe you’ll be sick, but that’s on you isn’t it?), moutai, most likely fake, but who can get real shit? if you can get real shit, we know you’re fake
·      chinks who aren’t fobs? maybe, they’re good for money and that’s about it. hold up, a chink loves fobs, but a chink hates fob 富二代 (second generation rich, meaning those goddamn chinks who fucking yelling in their stupid ass city mandarin in mclennan about stupid ass math and shit. fuck those chinks, they subverting fucking laws and requirements to destroy the value of American schools, fuck, also maybe more annoying and privileged than whitegirls [GASP])

a chink generally just mean that he saw the worst people of his surroundings gorged on food and not respecting the culture lying stupid, white, and [fully clothed?]

wearing stan smiths, distressed jeans, and red sox hats when they don’t even know the fuck is pitchfx, war, UZR, shit FUCK BOSTON
dressing like their homeless when they just fucking too stupid to know the valancing behind the way their appearance acts as a political message, you think that poor people want to look like they poor? shit
doing various drugs because they’re white and will never get fucked by larger structures, and completely ignorant that anyone non-white gets fucked for life doing the same damn thing, fucking stupid ass white bois doing cocaine and then nothing happen besides they get a nosebleed and no jail time and no conscience and using hard earned money peddling money to pay for their lack of structure and—————
thinking that everyone needs to share their culture just because they themselves are too empty to create one except by stealing other peoples’ and not trying to change it or adapt it or trying to do anything original with it
and only doing this because they cannot bear to look at themselves
dreaming to make white spaces in other peoples’ Time & Space through images stolen, and copied the archangel of the buddha of another world in 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of 南无阿弥陀佛
trying to create a sensation of their own syntax without stealing and eating and hopefully they will stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve and starve
having to for the rest, with the absolute heart of any meaning and propriety butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years as they will be
gorging on themselves for ever and a thousand years.

also no whitebois with too much product in their hair. EVER


first off, a chink would like to give a big shout out to the fabled mtl establishment named SUWU. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID WHITE POVERTY PORN INSENSITIVE ASS. first you think youère kooul car t’as un nom qui semble chinoise. vas te défoncer tu conasse de putain. qu’est-ce que tu penses être, saloppe???? tu crois qu’il est correcte d’utiliser un nom qui semble chinois ou exotique pour que tu puisses fournir drhhinkz fooour ze hwyt bois quand ils sont very très très druhunque? tu penses que nôtre linguâge iz ohké foruh u tou utiliser? second off, bruh. suwu is what bloods use to salute each other, you think it’s cool to use that shit as a restaurant? damn, a chink might just call his restaurant heil hitler. fucking worse of white folks, or are they the best of white folks, or are they synonomous, or is there even a difference between any of them? shit
—ice cube (not really)

all praise cube.
we not gonna do this kind of goofy shit with the chinkstaurant. there gonna be no stupid ass disrespect going on in this place. the décor may seem offensive to whitebois and seen as slumming or some shit, but for a chink, this restaurant is supposed to bring him some sort of nostalgia, some sort of comfort that reminds him of home.

seats: stumps on the ground indoors about the distance between your ass and the floor when you get into a good deep squat. hopefully splintery wood

tables: fold out stool

utensils: chopsticks and spoons only, no forks/knives allowed outside of the kitchen

walls: all black, with kobe, baerod jerseys and some paintings. a chink’s twelve year-old cousin does some good chinkligraphy, it’d be stupid not to contract her, also we gon invest in a Basquiat, the Chinese boxer rebellion preferably

lights: orange-ish incandescent industrial lamps hanging from the roof to mimic that late night feel

kitchen: a couple of coal stoves and some some iron barbecue pits and shit, some sinks in the back, a couple good fridges and freezers. no skimping on health

washrooms: no indoor advanced whiteman plubming. only outdoor wooden shack squat toilet. no toilet paper provided, must bring own. hand sanitizer however provided. must carry candle or flashlight

plants: yeah, various good luck chink plants brought to you by a chink’s family

china: (lol) cheap plastic bowls and dishes. probably gonna have misspelt English words on them. also, plastic gloves provided

smoking: yes

alcohol: no whiteman fancy drinks. good beer and chink liquour only. byob. if not good enough, smashed upside your head

location: one of those cheapish places that everyone walks by, but people too scared to go into

exterior: perpetually hung chink new years door frame banners, bigass sign in fluorescent lights saying: 新山, 

signage/menus: no menus printed, everything written on a chalkboard. no English. no French. no alphabets. no numbers. all chink script everyday. maybe pictures. probably not

music: blend of hard bop 50s-early 70s art blakey, gangster rap, folk music

fun knick-knacks: some books and shit, maybe some chink peasant toys, like a brick or some shit, or plastic 金箍棒


only food that will and is served is some good old fashioned food. so lots of mutton, mung beans, potatoes, daikon, and various grasses. no food will be shipped. only food consumed/cooked will be local. no whiteman will be allowed entry if tries to write or report on it. no whiteman will be allowed in the kitchen. no whiteman will be allowed to touch the food if he has no experience in SPECIFICALLY 陕北food or can speak . 
the menu will consist of:
                      杂烩                       浆饭                       韭菜盒子
凉皮                           韭菜盒子                   土豆                       羊肉
拼三                       糊料                       羊肉泡                       夹馍
林扁食                   辣椒                       孜然羊肉                   干羊肉

no canto shit, no Sichuan shit, no Beijing shit, no Zhejiang shit, no wuhan shit.
only 北/西shit.

no one hired to cook if they’re not from 西, no non-chinks hired to work. period.
anyone hired must pass an accent check/patriotism check/non-affiliation with fuckbois(girls) check/no previous ownership of stan smith’s check


no English will be spoken in the chinkstaurant, only read
            this will educate you. read before you speak
must take a shot for each generation of detachment from Victorian England or any colonial whiteman land
            this will purify your bondage to your colonialist whore heritage
no one will help you with the menu, no one will assist you if you don’t speak chink
            this will make you feel as mute as the chinks do everyday
must smoke five cigarettes during session
            this will make sure you aren’t a weakass punk
also, only chinkgarettes/camels/gauloises allowed. if not possessed, they will be provided, and subsequently billed to your charge, no currency conversion, direct RMB to USD
all staff will wear a headband with the bow on the forehead and an employee will wear some sort of kobe paraphernalia at any given moment
            this is to affirm your fraternity with blacks

this is to ensure you do not pollute any chink flavors with your stupidass white palette


no doubt the chinkstaurant will attract various chinks, but also whites who slumming, looking for some niche place. white man will be greeted warmly and promptly charged 83% extra white/douche tax, a percent for every year chink immigrant exclusion existed. for whatever reason, the shittier and more local a chink can make a place like this, whites will flock. we can let them come in, they’ll just eat off a different menu and pay different prices:

avg non-white fare: 100 for party of 5. v full, no just normal white restaurant full, baijiu-chuggin 100kg mongolchink full. baijiu not included (bottle starts at 60, v reasonable if you look around. shit, a chink would never scam a chink. chinks need to build back this trust)

white fare: 50 per scalp. no baijiu given. instead, 46% grain liquor in old baijiu bottles served. 100 per bottle. v reasonable (friends of wei get 25% discount)


man, I don’t even know, shit. sometimes a chink just wants some nostalgia in life. that’s that shit taken away from chinks by dislocated lives. that’s that shit that whites make money off of. that’s that shit I don’t like. this chinkstaurant. that’s the stuff of dreams. that’s the shit I do like. that’s the shit that’ll make a chink feel like he at home.

man sad shit is that a chink can’t tell老娘。老娘肯定听不么些。肯定没有当成她宝宝能心里面有么多的仇恨。也就的,老个日子也就的。咋们这种人也就的。咋们这种山也就永回不了家。家已没了。咋也就能继续下去。