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At the corner of 30th Avenue and Figueroa, there’s a funky little taqueria with two distinct cultures attached to it. Chano’s Restaurant home of “Mexican food, Burritos, Toacos, Tortas, Pastrami, Burgers and Shrimps,” has been feeding West Adams area workers by day and beer drenched or academically overloaded Trojans by night since 1986.
Founder Donaciano Nacias—called “Chano” when he was growing up in Zacatecas, Mexico—said USC students like Chano’s because it’s tasty, quick and accepts credit cards. Running the restaurant is not without its headaches, however. “The biggest challenge is starting it all from nothing—training, cooking, trying to keep the food good,” said “Chano” Nacias. “That’s why I don’t hire USC students—they’re the easiest, the quickest to learn—they learn it good—but they don’t like to work, they want Friday and Saturday off—that’s when it’s busiest, that’s when I need them most.”
Election results are all but in, and “the cumulative effect is a thumpin’” for Republicans, according to the Prez. Among those thumped, Rick Santorum of Pennsylvania. Which gives rise to THE. BEST. PICTURE. EVER. (Thanks to Chris G. for sending.)
Read the entire Pittsburgh P-G article here. (Photo credit: Robin Rombach)
JOURNALISM and WAR in AMERICA
November 29, 2006 in Commentary, History, J-School, Journalism | 3 comments
By Noah Connolly Barron
The first casualty when war comes, is truth.
—Senator Hiram Johnson, 1917
War has always been good for the business of government. It unites peoples, silences dissent, energizes industry and yields spoils of wealth, land and influence. When we look at the history of the United States—born in bloodshed—on through to today’s conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, we’re forced to see an obvious but troubling truth: war, perhaps more than any other cultural trope, has defined what it means to be an American.
And journalism, itself in the business of holding a mirror up to the people, has been there since the beginning, reflecting and distorting, glorifying and reviling our violent natures. Journalism has played Queen Gertrude to America’s bloody King Claudius, “the Imperial Jointress to this warlike state,”[1] seductively whispering in our collective ears that this next war will be just, necessary and by God, the last war we’ll need. Until the next one, of course. Read the rest of this entry »