(CNN) — A new fast food sensation has hit the Emirates' culinary scene.

Right now, Dubai diners can't seem to get enough of the "camel burger."

"It's a sensation," Ramesh, restaurant manager at "Local House" the restaurant chain behind the burgers told CNN. "Everyone's bored of beef and chicken. So, as soon as the word got out, we had queues of customers eager to give it a try."

Not only are the exotic burgers a novelty, they are also a healthier alternative to their beefy American cousins, the restaurant claims. The $6 "camel quarter-pounder" is virtually fat and cholesterol-free, according to Ramesh.

The photo is by David Dennis.

Unfortunately, Little Green is the furthest thing from "Essential." The history of absinthe is glossed over in the first twelve pages (with a few info-boxes spread through the book later on), and the rest of the book is just a bunch of recipes for absinthe cocktails. This isn't a problem if you're looking to make, say, a G.W.'s Cherry Tree (absinthe, cherry liqueur, cherry sorbet, and cherries). But if you're reading this book to learn about, say, lore and trivia, you'll come away disappointed. If you're looking to read about the history of absinthe, you'll have to look somewhere else. But if you're looking for sickly sweet-looking absinthe cocktail recipes, this looks like a great start. For bartenders and serious party-throwers only.

Ha HA, Republicans! Good one! Total burn!

Dorks.

h/t xom.

Here's the first five minutes or so of The Coconut Revolution, which documents the BRA and the Bougavillians. It's not on Netfilx, and Scarecrow doesn't have it, but you can watch the whole thing here. You can also apparently buy it here. Not to take away from the first five minutes, but you should watch further in to get to some amazing-type stuff. Maybe wait until your boss takes his two-hour lunch or something. These dudes started out fighting helicopters and guns with bows and arrows, then got trapped with a gunboat blockade around the island, and they still came out on top. Look at how they make fuel. Look at how the leader carries two machine guns even though one of his arms is all fucked up. Look at the shot of a kid carrying a rifle past a long-ago sabotaged earth mover. I want to join these people.

Here is some text quoted from somewhere:

This is an incredible modern-day story of a native people’s victory over Western globalization. Sick of seeing their environment ruined and their people exploited by the Panguna Mine, the Pacific island of Bougainville rose up against the giant mining corporation, Rio Tinto Zinc. The newly formed Bougainville Revolutionary Army (BRA) began fighting with bows and arrows and sticks and stones against a heavily armed adversary. In an attempt to put down the rebellion the Papua New Guinean Army swiftly established a gunboat blockade around the island, backed by Australian Military personnel and equipment. With no shipments allowed in or out of the island, the People of Bougainville learned to become self-dependent and self-sustained.

Take that, Cameron!

h/t: Danny Noonan

Books with Pace, Plot and Setting. Recommendations?

Some of my favorite things to read are true stories of world war II especially submarine patrols, short poetry, Raymond Chandler, mysteries that take place in Nordic countries (Per Wahloo is great, not Henning Mankell for some reason). I've read the Stieg Larsson books (so-so).

I'd like something in that realm. or something completely new with those characteristics so that I branch out a bit.

That's a tall order I know. So thanks.
CB C@L

Howdy CB C@L:

Well, it's not a true World War II story, but you should give Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada a shot. It's a novel written by an author who participated in German underground activities against the Nazis. You can read more about it in my interview with Alan Furst, who has written ten espionage novels set in World War II that you might find interesting, too. (A counterpart novel to Every Man is Irene Némirovsky, whose recently discovered novel Suite Francaise is the French side of the story.)

You might enjoy Fred Vargas's Inspector Adamsberg mysteries, too. They're very French and not Nordic, but there are some similarities to Wahloo's work.

And I think everyone should give Richard Stark's Parker novels a try. They're revenge crime fiction, and they're brutally, brilliantly written novels.

Are you about to go on a long vacation? Have you read everything by your favorite author but you still want more? Do you want to learn about a new subject, but don't know where to start? I can help. Ask me for book recommendations on Questionland

The McItaly is made with all-Italian ingredients and recommended by the Italian government, and everybody's mad (especially, and very understandably, the Slow Food people).

Now, courtesy of the Daily Telegraph, the definitive review:

Rachel Diacono, 17, on holiday from England, told Reuters she wished she'd gone for a pizza instead.

"I love trying out different McDonald's in every country I go to—France is great—but here it's like they couldn't be bothered to make the effort. They should have put mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes in or something," she said.

Note: The McItaly (like every fast-food product known to humankind) resembles its glamour shot above only vaguely. It actually looks like this.

*Can I say that? Or will McDonalds sue me?

Last Tuesday around 8:04 p.m., Seattle cops responded to an assault at the Downtown Emergency Service Center Supportive Housing, which provides housing to homeless individuals with chronic alcohol addiction, on Eastlake Ave. According to a police report, two men were hanging out discussing the Super Bowl when the suspect overheard their conversation and "became angry for an unknown reason, but [the victim] thinks it may have been because they were talking about the Colts and Saints."

The suspect, according to the report, is "a known Seahawks fan." The victim told police that the suspect started yelling at him stating, "I'm going to kill you," while "swinging a small portable stereo by its cord in the direction of [the victim]," the report continues. The victim told police that the stereo almost hit him twice but missed, and that he "did not believe [the suspect] would actually kill him, but was afraid of being hit by the stereo." After a little while, the suspect just walked away.

Police then contacted the suspect, who was "very intoxicated and wearing a Seahawks NFC championship cap." The suspect insisted he didn't do anything, but an on-site manager told police he'd been picking fights all evening, and said, "we tried to keep him distracted." The man was arrested for assault.

Holy cow that Dark Knight scene is amazing.

Thanks for the heads-up, MetaFilter.

Last Tuesday, a Nordstrom employee went out for a smoke break on 6th Avenue; she "lit her cigarette and the suspect approached her and put his face right in front of her face and asked for a light," a Seattle police report says. She said she didn't have a light, so the suspect asked for a cigarette, but she refused to give him one. According to the police report, the man then "became very upset and cocked his hand back as if he was going to hit her," so she pulled her head back so only the man's fingertips hit her. The man started to run southbound, but when he heard her yelling to the "valet guys" to call 911, the woman said he came at her again, calling her a "bitch" and a "cunt".

The woman said she tried to run across the street to the "valet guys," but there were too many cars, so she "stood on the sidewalk and braced herself as the suspect approached her," the report continues. She told police that the suspect "again got right in her face and this time spit in her face." The man, according to the report, escaped southbound on 6th Avenue. The report says, the suspect "had blond hair and was wearing a gray zipper hoodie and green baggy cargo pants" and "had a very noticeable bruise under his left eye."

Publius is outraged for many reasons, but here is the first: "Naturally, the people in these crowds are depicted as being filled with nothing but white folks." Um? The only non-whites I've ever seen at Tea Parties, either in my own experience or from watching videos, have been onstage, speaking. An all-white teabagger crowd is probably the most realistic thing going on in that issue of Captain America. And Publius goes on:

So, there you have it, America. Tea Party protesters just “hate the government,” they are racists, they are all white folks, they are angry, and they associate with secretive white supremacist groups that want to over throw the U.S. government...Nice going Marvel Comics. Thanks for making patriotic Americans into your newest super villains.

Captain America has advanced the liberal agenda several times before, of course. Once, he fought Ronald Reagan, who had turned into a snake-man, and once he was in the room when a disgraced Richard Nixon shot himself.

(Thanks to Matt Hickey for the tip.)

A gathering of same-sex marriage equality proponents for a press conference and rally in the park opposite the bureau; The application—and subsequent rejection—of several same-sex couples hoping to obtain a marriage license inside of the bureau; The application—and subsequent approval—of a lesbian and gay man, whom according to New York State law may legally marry each other, for a marriage license; and a significant act of civil disobedience to rival the lunch-counter sit-ins of the 1960s, in which black Americans asserted their rights of equal treatment by society at large.

If part of that plan sounds familiar—a gay man and a lesbian getting a marriage license?—it's because a co-worker and I did it here back in 2004...

The clerk called over her manager, a nice older white man, who explained that Amy and Sonia couldn't have a marriage license. So I asked if Amy and I could have one—even though I'm gay and live with my boyfriend, and Amy's a lesbian and lives with her girlfriend. We emphasized to the clerk and her manager that Amy and I don't live together, don't love each other, and don't plan to have kids together, and that we're going to go on living and sleeping with our same-sex partners after we get married. So could we still get a marriage license? "Sure," the license-department manager said, "If you've got $54, you can have a marriage license."

...

Amy and Sonia and I didn't show up at the county building last Friday because we were planning to sue. We came to make a point about the absurdity of our marriage laws. Amy can't marry Sonia, I can't marry Terry—why? Because the sanctity of marriage must be protected from the queers! But Amy and I can get a marriage license and enter into a sham marriage, if we care to, a joke marriage, one that I promise you won't produce children. And we can do this with the state's blessing—why? Because one of us is a man and one of us is a woman. Who cares that one of us is a gay man and one of us is a lesbian?

So marriage has to be protected from the homos—unless, of course, the homos marry each other.

The New York activists—a new group called Queer Rising—is also planning acts of civil disobedience for Friday. I'm all for it. I'm all for gay men and lesbians obtaining marriage licenses to demonstrate the absurdity of bans on "gay marriage" and I've already called for acts of civil disobedience. It's time, people.

Though the government has refrained from arresting the principal leaders of the opposition, the category of people it has pursued has grown broader over time. While a number of well-known reformists were detained shortly after the contested presidential election in June, the ranks of those imprisoned now include artists, photographers, children’s rights advocates, women’s rights activists, students and scores of journalists. Iran now has more journalists in prison than any other country in the world, with at least 65 in custody, according to Reporters Without Borders.

Only two days until the anniversary of the Iranian Revolution...

So, apparently, it's like Twitter, Google Wave, and Facebook all at once in your e-mail, and you can connect to Twitter (but not Facebok) with it. It remains to be seen if yet another interface is what the internet needs, but Google at least has an enormous captive audience. You can try Google Buzz right now; it's live in your Gmail.

Contemplating an event like last night’s film festival at Re-bar, I am reminded again of the incredible breadth of human endeavor. Our endless curiosity drives us into the deepest, darkest corners of the psyche, and before you know it, Herve Villechaize is dry-humping Danny Elfman’s sister-in-law while a man in his underwear floats above them holding lit candles between his toes.

You know you’re in for some wild shit when Kelly O recommends it, and I wish I’d had the energy to be there for the whole thing; no doubt, I missed some seriously bizarre cinema. But it was a Monday night and after working all day, not to mention a long week of Stranger-recommended events, I didn’t have much left.

Nevertheless, I soldiered on downtown, ordered a drink, and watched the crazy happen for an hour or so. As fate would have it, I got there right at the beginning of the Villechaize opus, “Forbidden Zone,” and while the parade of lunacy unfolded onscreen, I had a recurring sense of déjà vu. I couldn’t tell if it was the guy in the giant frog costume or the horny Grandpa wearing a propeller beanie, but something was undeniably familiar.

Then Danny Elfman showed up (as the Devil, natch), and it was all clear to me. I was once a pretty big Elfman fan you see, and was aware of this movie even though I didn’t recognize it from the title. Now that I have finally seen it, I am fulfilled. Praise the Lord!

So yes, I approve of last night’s recommendation, despite the Monday night aspect. What the hell else is there to do on a Monday? I suppose The Stranger could recommend sitting on your ass and recovering from the Super Bowl, but wouldn’t you rather watch a boy who thinks he’s a chicken be decapitated, only to have his still-living head grow wings and offer additional plot commentary?

Of course you would.

Theater

'my dear Lewis'

• See what else is happening in Theater on Tuesday »

Potentially hazardous foods at unsafe temperatures
Improper cooling of potentially hazardous foods
Foods not protected from cross contamination
Poor personal hygiene
Handwashing facility unavailable
Toxic items not properly stored
Equipment/utensils not properly sanitized

Updates on reopening (and future closures, shudder) may be found over here.

Turns out the White Stripes didn't give anyone permission to use a shitty version of their song for a Super Bowl ad.

The Air Force Reserve was unavailable for comment.

And people aren't going to make better choices so long as we're subsidizing the production of cheap, sugary, crap snack-and-fast foods. Soda should be taxed like alcohol and snack-and-fast foods should be taxed like cigarettes, i.e. not so heavily taxed that they're completely out of reach (people still drink, people still smoke), but taxed heavily enough that people can't afford to live on corn syrup and crap.

Anyway, the White House launched its "fight against childhood obesity" today—and somewhere Sarah Palin is preparing two-pronged attack—a Tweet and a Facebook status update—denouncing the White House's efforts as a hopey, changey socialist plot to indoctrinate our children and destroy our country by preventing American children from developing adult-onset diabetes in their early teens like God intended. And when the predictable and imbecilic attack comes the Democrats will stand there helplessly with their dicks in their hands.

At Third Place Ravenna, Christina Dudley reads from her novel Mourning Becomes Cassandra. It's about a Christian who moves in with some friends and decides to mentor a "prickly, dog-whispering 15-year-old." If you are a prickly 15-year-old—dog-whispering or not—you might want to go to Secret Garden Books tonight. Heather Brewer reads from The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Eleventh Grade Burns, which is the fourth installment in a young adult vampire series. No, not that young adult vampire series.

Geoffery Canada reads at Kane Hall. Canada, the President and CEO of the Harlem Children's Zone, wants to completely revive inner cities all at once. Oddly, this is the same debate that takes place in the French action movie District 13: Ultimatum, which is now playing at the Varsity.

The reading of the night, though, is at Town Hall. Garry Wills is a big damn deal. Bomb Power: The Modern Presidency and the National Security State looks at the office of the president and how it's become over-reliant on nuclear weaponry.

The full readings calendar, including the next week or so, is here. And if you're planning on staying in and you're looking for personalized book recommendations, feel free to tell me the books you like and ask me what to read next over at Questionland.

Sunday a new strain of commentary popped up on the subject: Spectrum choreographer Donald Byrd wondered on his blog about how Wevers's use of women in the piece changed if you knew (as some in the audience did; all you had to do to know was follow dance in Seattle) that the woman in question—who was humped, then stuffed in a trash can—was Wevers's ex-wife, and that the humper was Wevers's current husband. (Via Jeremy Barker.)

Byrd ultimately comes down on the side that this does not really feed into whether the dance was good or not, but he sure spends some time teasing it out before he does—referring to other choreographers, including Bill T. Jones, for whom biography has been an important factor (and for which he's been roundly criticized). And Byrd raises the important point that "the non-aesthetic" and the "aesthetic" continue to enjoy a terrifically uncomfortable relationship—much more uncomfortable, surely, than a dancer and the ex-husband choreographer whose company she willingly performs with.

I'm not a purist by any means. The aesthetic and the non-aesthetic are like crazy lovers: nobody else can do to them what they can do to each other.

But in this case I left the biography alone for a simple reason: For me Wevers's symbolism wasn't nuanced enough to analyze in the first place, let alone to follow its trail of crumbs into the murky zone of biography.

In other words, the lady being humped and the lady being trashed did not affect me either way because they were poetically DOA. Stuffing a lady in the trash in an affecting way would be a topic of conversation: Maybe it's misogynist, maybe not—depends entirely on the context.

That's a level of analysis it's unnecessary to do unless certain basics are met.

Here's what I did write about gender and Wevers's choreography, in case you want to take another look.

After the performance, I was part of a KUOW conversation about it next door at the Sitting Room that included Wevers. Bizarrely, when I asked him how one of the dances was different when it was set on a man and a woman rather than, as in a previous incarnation, on two women, he told me the gender didn't make any difference. When I expressed disbelief (haven't we established that colorblindness/genderblindness are nothing more than forms of intellectual and imaginative disability?), he informed me that his definition of gender must simply be more fluid than mine. Hmm. I will take that challenge, Mr. Wevers, and we should discuss it further. I shall wear pants. But in the meantime, this exchange raised yet another unflattering aspect to the performance: The female dancers had plenty to do, but the character of what they did felt limited, under-explored, off. Wevers felt a little like a novelist who can't quite write women, or who isn't that interested in trying. The flip side of this is that Wevers's choreographic focus on men (as well as, recently, PNB's) is marvelous, and especially so given ballet's history of focusing on the ladies. In dance, as in the world, we've only just begun to figure out what men and women can really do, rather than what we thought they were capable of. I want more of that. A partly improvised male solo in the middle of the evening's Mozartean selection (this piece to a segment of the Requiem) was stunning.