• Humanoid robot deathmatch at Rek Arena

    “California was worried that our robots were too dangerous — so we decided to PUT FUCKING SWORDS ON ‘EM!” the announcer screamed from the cage as a stagehand removed the sheaths from the blades on the pair of 6-foot tall humanoid robots.

    As the fight started and the robots exchanged quick jabs, Terminator-style robot T-REK threw the dreadlock-haired Rektile against the cage in front of me, wind rushing out through the cage from the motion. Rektile briefly stumbled as it got back into action. But it was quickly over — after getting knocked down repeatedly and springing up shockingly fast, in a violent blink-and-you’ll-miss-it collision, Rektile ended up immobilized on the arena floor.

    T-REK was victorious, and did a little dance to celebrate.

    This was the final fight of the night on Friday, October 9th, with each fight pairing up robots with increasing in size and agility. Each robot was controlled by a human with a wireless gamepad — not AI.

    From what I gathered chatting with attendees, many in the crowd had invested in Rek Robots and were here to see this early public fight. The company, which has a showroom on the second floor, had recently found itself in legal trouble after having its robots fight a human. I guess “come on, live a little” isn’t technically a legal defense when you have robots built for factory work beating someone up.

    Obviously, the fight with the human was not a deathmatch. Then again, when two robots are fighting, what does “death” even mean? Is that different than getting knocked out? These questions are either very deep or very stupid, or possibly both.

    According to one investor I spoke with, the goal of these fights is to inspire kids’ interest in STEM education the same way the space race did back in the 1960s. While the audience was a blend of local software engineers and night owls, there were a few kids — and even a baby.

    You might be wondering what this costs: the tickets to this event were $69/person. I wasn’t exactly prepared to spend that much, but it was also something I immediately knew I had to go see.

    My recommendation: While this certainly isn’t a series I can see myself attending regularly due to the steep ticket price, it’s one of those things you can’t find anywhere else. I think this will appeal to a very self-selecting group. If you’re in that group and can afford the ticket, go for it — before Rek gets sued out of existence.

  • The Metreon: Upper floors

    As the elevator doors slid open, I came to a place I’d never explored: the semi-secret upper floor of The Metreon — the floor above the movie theaters, a private event space known as The Aviary (formerly City View).

    Last month I wrote about the “backrooms” of the Metreon’s movie theater on the third floor. Recently I got an invite to Google’s Startup Week, which was hosted on the fourth floor. As the name suggests, this was squarely aimed at the tech crowd. I was ostensibly there to see Google X’s Astro Teller, an old guard Silicon Valley visionary. That talk did not disappoint.

    But my hidden motive was to explore the only space in the Metreon I’d never been to. Well, except for that one time they forgot to lock the elevator and I wound up there by mistake (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it).

    The interior of the upper floors is mostly a blank floor plate with a boring white side hall where the bathrooms are located. There’s also a food prep area back there somewhere.

    More interesting, though, is the balcony. Perched above Yerba Buena Gardens, you can see Moscone Center to the south, and SFMOMA straight ahead. It’s a pleasant balcony. Without the tech crowd flooding the space, one could imagine nesting somewhere like this in an upscale apartment or hotel.

    What surprised me the most were the original escalators — still intact — branching down past a subfloor to the movie theater below. This lost part of the building is hiding in plain sight, rarely (if ever?) used, dating all the way back to the Metreon’s opening day in 1999.

    As a side note, there is technically a subfloor above the Aviary level; however, I don’t know how to access it — it’s for staff only, from what a little bird tells me. Perhaps I’ll find a way to explore that in the future.

    Next stop… the roof?

  • Full Queer Wrestling at Folsom Street Fair

    Aye lads and lassies, let me tell ye a tale o’ the wild land of leather, rope, and displays of depravity I encountered while sailing… oh, sorry.

    I went to the 2026 Folsom Street Fair dressed as a pirate this year. As one does.

    It’s been years since I’d been to Folsom, and the tone this time was much more positive. Perhaps it was the unusually sunny afternoon, or the variety of events going on. Or maybe it was all in my head, which (again) was wearing a pirate hat.

    Of everything going on, to me there was one clear standout: the wrestling.

    This was my first experience seeing Full Queer wrestling. For those familiar with Hoodslam/SlamTown, it’s very much along the same lines, and one of the competitors on Sunday was Hoodslam founder Dark Sheik.

    Some of the not-strictly legal wrestling moves on display included karate kicks, strangulation with barbed wire, and cannibalism. To be fair to the referees, one of them was a victim of the aforementioned cannibalism.

    While I’m no wrestling expert, the same concept of “kayfabe” comes about all the time in art and comedy: presenting something ridiculous as though it were real, then getting the audience to play along.

    In a case like Full Queer, wrestlers would get boos from the crowd if they were presented as a villain, they trash-talked San Francisco, or their persona didn’t match the gender-bending theme.

    I got really into the crowd participation aspect, leading people to join in my chants of “Bite his dick off!” and “Death to America!” — the last one because… look, you had to be there.

  • Immersive art…?

    Spotted on Mission Street
    • Is this immersive art?
    • Is it a participatory installation?

    Why or why not?

    I know I sound like a broken record on immersive art sometimes, questioning what the term means when it’s been stretched so thin as to become meaningless.

    So imagine my surprise when I came across the above. What started as a Mission Street ad has succumbed to a type of (accidental?) participatory art.

    Quite a bit of effort has gone into the collective act of defacing this poster.

    Does this make it immersive? I would argue that it does. The act of participation is by its nature immersive, the call to action driven by the same invisible instinct that tells us to write on bathroom stalls with a Sharpie.

    The bigger question: is it art? Here, I think the answer is amorphous. While it didn’t start out as art or even with an intention to become art, one could easily argue that the very nature of participation has transformed it into a collective, temporary art piece.

    What is art, after all, if not a form of experience?

  • Los Angeles 2026 wrap-up and stray observations

    Taco trucks lining the streets of DTLA at night

    I never planned to become a regular in Los Angeles, but here we are. This visit started out as a work trip to Long Beach, followed by a few carefully planned days off.

    My goal with this vacation was to have new experiences, and I think that worked out: if you told me six months ago that I’d be flying an airplane over SoCal, I would have thought you were crazy — yet it was the highlight of the trip.

    Even the best laid plans can fall apart. I’d planned on trying a tasting menu at the chef’s table in an upscale new restaurant as part of an Airbnb Experience. The chef was ill and it was called off. No big deal though — I always maintain a list of backup plans as a contingency.

    Some other thoughts and observations in no particular order:

    • Long Beach reminds me a lot of Oakland: lots of working class blue-collar types, a big shipping industry, and a lot of places that aren’t really walkable.
    • On that note, despite several Metro Rail extensions, Angeleno as a whole still have a huge problem with their car addiction. If the city is going to pull off the Olympics sustainably, the only viable option at this late stage is to go all-in on bus rapid transit.
    • Staying in DTLA is pretty easy for me these days since I know how to find my way around, and some good food spots. Guisados is my go-to place for tacos with fresh, handmade tortillas. That’s the secret that elevates a typical taco into a great one.
    • I hired a professional photographer to get some shots of myself in LA at night — the photographer turned out to be from the Bay Area too. Small world.
    • I went on a tour of Union Station with the LA Conservancy that was sort of a mixed bag. Part of the building was closed for maintenance, and the guide could have been a lot more mindful about directing us around all the noise and skin-searing sunlight. Still, it was cool to see parts of the station I’d never seen before, and learn about parts I’d walked right past before — like the prop ticket counters from Blade Runner.
    • I was sworn to secrecy on some aspects of this one: I booked a ticket to a “tea speakeasy.” It’s a relaxing spot where the proprietor serves as much tea as you’d like for a flat fee, there’s live music, and plenty of opportunities to socialize with strangers over board games and art projects. Doesn’t get much more LA than that.
    • LAX’s new “people mover” tram still isn’t open just yet. A vision of LAX that’s not clogged with traffic is almost impossible to imagine, but hope may be here soon, as they were testing it out while I was there.

    As a pro-tip for getting around LA, try relying on Uber and Lyft only for the last mile if you can; the LA Metro (buses, light rail, and subway) is dirt cheap at $1.75 so the savings are real.

    Oh, and I still haven’t made it to that alien church. Maybe next time — Los Angeles has the strangest ways of drawing you back.

  • Graffiti street art lesson

    One of my quirky hobbies I’ve covered on this blog many times is photographing street art, so it should come as no surprise that I was interested in creating my own.

    Hidden away in a nondescript building in LA’s Fashion District, I arrived at a class from Graff Tours taught by Andi, an extremely talented local street artist.

    The class was entirely indoors and used water-based spray paint. The first step? It surprised me but it makes sense: replacing the spray cap on the can with a higher quality one for better control.

    Then we got into the bulk of the class: can control and various lettering techniques. We went over basic bubble lettering, filling areas, outlining, 3D visuals, backgrounds, and (importantly!) how to correct mistakes.

    The photo above is my first attempt. For those who don’t get the reference, it’s a phrase scribbled on the wall in the video game Portal…

    “This was a triumph. I’m making a note here: huge success. It’s hard to overstate my satisfaction.”

    Obviously, the minimum line width depends on how closely you’re holding the can to the wall. The catch? The paint will be focused on one spot, so you have to move the can quickly and steadily to avoid creating a dripping mess.

    The more advanced technique involves layering; if you want a thin white line against a black background, for example, you’d spray the white line as narrow as possible, then “carve” a thin black line on either side of it to slim it down. Andi made it look effortless, but I could tell that ability took significant practice.

    My recommendation: In case it’s not obvious, I had a delightful time with this one. The price was a bargain at around $40. I’m already thinking about taking more street art classes in the future if I can find some around San Francisco. For those in NYC, Graff Tours also offers a similar workshop in Brooklyn.

  • The Nest by Hatch Escapes

    Josie has died. Nobody has come to claim the contents of her storage locker, and it’s up to you to go through it all.

    That’s the premise of The Nest by Hatch Escapes. Don’t let the company name misguide you, The Nest itself is more of an immersive story experience.

    No spoilers will be posted here. I do feel like the content warnings are worth reading over to make sure it’s something you’ll be comfortable with. There’s some crawling around involved too so be mindful of that.

    As a spoiler-free review: the space is well designed, the story has impressive depth, and the puzzles follow a fairly straightforward logic.

    If you get stuck, hints will be provided; this happened to me a few times when I was running behind schedule. I think doing this one solo is kind of a stretch given the relatively short time allotted, but it’s doable.

    My recommendation: I’d definitely try it if you’re comfortable with the content warnings, but bring a Player 2 along for best results. Personally I wish there had been a little more time to absorb all the story content. The location is easy to find near Koreatown.

  • So… I flew an airplane

    I spent an hour flying a Cessna 150 — and I have an official logbook to prove it.

    On Sunday I arrived at the Van Nuys airport for a “discovery flight” lesson with Sean from California Flight School. When I arrived it was pretty cloudy, but fortunately by the time we went inside and had gone over all the basics, the worst of it had burned away.

    The airplane itself was a bit cramped, though after bumbling around a little I managed to get comfortable. Takeoff and landing are the two most technical parts of flying, so Sean handled those. Despite the size of the airport, Van Nuys gets a lot of private jets and is so close to the Burbank and LAX airports that it requires knowledge of the vicinity to get safely to the practice area.

    After that, Sean said the phrase “your controls” which was my indication to take over the yoke and pedals. He continued monitoring the airspeed and adjusting the engine accordingly. It’s pretty intuitive once you get used to having to fight with the wind. He had me flying level at first to get used to it before trying a few turns. As with any single engine propeller plane, it tends to want to bank to the left — but it’s easy enough to adapt with only a little practice.

    Time flew by in the cockpit, if you’ll pardon the pun, and soon it was time to head back. The vibration and stench of fuel became easy to ignore as I focused on flying. As we approached the airport Sean took the controls again and landed incredibly smoothly.

    Before departing, Sean recorded our time in a logbook and handed it to me as an official keepsake.

    This is actually something I’d wanted to do for a while, ever since I flew as a passenger in a similarly tiny airplane in Salt Lake City. I’m not really interested in becoming a pilot — but I always enjoy learning new skills from firsthand experience.

    My recommendation: At $200 this was a bargain; I’d strongly encourage anyone with an interest in aviation to give it a shot. Do be aware that this is for the tiny Cessna 150 — the big and tall among us might need to splurge for a larger aircraft, as this is the airplane equivalent of a small Honda motorcycle. You’ll leave with a logbook, a sense of adventure, and a wild story.

  • Hospital of Emotions

    The Hospital of Emotions is a series of site-specific art installations inside a decommissioned hospital in LA’s Westlake neighborhood. Each section focuses on an emotion you might feel in a hospital environment like sadness, hope, or fear, with a team of artists turning those feelings into their own unique installations.

    Their website sums it all up:

    One of the most unique aspects of the project is the building itself. A place that until recently functioned as a hospital – a space of care, vulnerability, and human stories – is temporarily transformed into a large-scale pop-up exhibition.

    Artists work with the existing architecture, corridors, rooms, and traces of the building’s past, turning the hospital into a surreal and powerful artistic landscape.

    In this exhibition, the building is not just a location – it becomes an essential part of the artwork itself.

    Through this transformation, the exhibition creates a rare encounter between art, space, and emotion.

    Personally I like the idea more than the core execution. Because the rooms vary so much from one to the next it’s difficult to judge overall. But the concept of taking care of your mental health in a hospital is an important one — no matter why you’re in a hospital, you may find that when you leave, you’re not exactly the same person you were as when you entered. The Hospital of Emotions presents that concept through artistic visual abstractions, making it easier to digest.

    On that note, I noticed a lot of people had brought young kids to the exhibit — which makes sense. Hospitals can be a jarring environment for the young. Maybe they’ll be in a hospital soon due to their own illness, or to see a dying relative, or because they’ll be getting a new sibling soon.

    I do take some issue with their use of the word “immersive” to describe the Hospital of Emotions. Aside from the location there’s no particular immersion; only a handful of the rooms have any type of interactive elements, and there’s no overarching story or puzzle to solve.

    There is one activity — filling out a stamp card, somewhat akin to a passport as you pass through each area of the hospital. I was having a tough time trying to figure out which stamp was supposed to go where, but I kept bumping into a little girl who was in the same boat and we figured it out together.

    My recommendation: If this interests you, go while it’s still available as it will only be around for months, not years. I’d strongly recommend grabbing tickets for off-peak times (weekdays, etc.) to avoid the crowds. Also, be mindful of your surroundings in the Westlake area, it’s similar to Skid Row.

  • How I learned DJ basics on real vinyl

    Departing Long Beach for the more lively pace of central LA, I found myself on the Sony Pictures Studios campus in Culver City. There I met movie industry music supervisor, DJ, and self-described music nerd Burt Blackarach. His studio space is packed with floor-to-ceiling shelves of records, along with several desks topped with turntables and audio workstations.

    I lucked out reserving his Be a DJ For A Day class when I was the only student, so Burt gave me his undivided attention with a custom-tailored lesson.

    As a “geriatric millennial” who grew up around records, I was already comfortable with basic record handling techniques, how to read the visual cues imprinted on the vinyl, and of course how to actually play a record. I was somewhat rusty but got into the groove (sorry) pretty quickly. Though I’d never worked with a professional-grade turntable before, the basics are similar. The component quality and fine-grained controls are what make the difference.

    We moved on to carefully dropping the needle into the silence between songs, then worked our way up to tricks like manually rewinding/fast forwarding and scratching.

    I should point out that these DJ techniques damage the records over time, so you wouldn’t want to do these with vinyl that you don’t own or have permission to use.

    Exactly what’s covered in this course will depend on your skill level and interest, but here are a few interesting pointers I picked up:

    • Scratching is a real craft. It’s trickier than it looks and would take quite a bit of practice to get it right consistently.
    • DJs have their own secret records. These feature premade sample loops with visual indicators, useful for mixing between songs.
    • Modern technology has its trade-offs. The digital control surfaces that mimic record decks vary in price and quality quite a bit, but the basic motions are the same as analog decks. The main benefit is that with fewer moving parts and no physical media, they’re much easier to pack for travel.
    • Timecode vinyl is a special type of hybrid record. These bridge the gap between the analog and digital worlds by playing a continous control code — think like a dial tone sound — which DJ software can pick up. This lets you use analog decks to play digital audio as though it were on a vinyl record.

    All things considered, I had a lot of fun with this one as I walked in with zero experience and walked out with key tactile skills and basic knowledge. The time flew by incredibly fast.

    My recommendation: If you’re curious about learning to DJ, there are plenty of options out there, from IRL to online, from introductory to advanced. This is a great starting point if you’re in the Los Angeles area because Burt is both a professional DJ and a fun, relatable instructor — especially if you want to learn to spin vinyl.