Wednesday December 5top

Crave-Dwelling Bliss

Let’s face it: Holiday shopping can be a total bitch, especially when you have to truck your ass all over Multnomah County to find the perfect fashion accessories for a finicky friend. Then there’s an even bigger dilemma—what if the pants you buy for a girlfriend make her ass look like a Christmas ham that’s been beaten to a pulp by a bat-wielding elf? Luckily for Portland, we have the Crave Party, an annual, all-under-one-roof shopping extravaganza featuring designers, boutiques, music, food and, luckily for your lumpy-assed friend, a catwalk where models showcase the goods for sale (think of it as a preview of how the pants are supposed to look, then imagine they’re being worn by a normal person). As if having a world of shopping at your disposal weren’t enough, Crave is also rife with pampering stations, where shoppers can get their stress lumps worked on with massages, get rid of unwanted unibrow action through the magic of waxing or drink their worries away in the Yazi Holiday Lounge. Featured local shops include LUSH, Meringue Boutique, Fleur-De-Lis, Lucy Palmer and Bambootique. Sultry DJ Daria O’Neil serves as the mistress of ceremonies, and is sure to join the ranks of the shoppers. Crave is a huge draw—sucking in shopaholics, metros and singles alike. With all the freebies, pampering, cocktailing and fun, it’s easily the best temporary mall a holiday shopper could ask for. Castaway, 1900 NW 18th Ave., 226-2377. 5-9 pm. $15 in advance, $20 at the door. Map

Thursday December 6top

Arrested Development

Ever been harassed by the police? Accused of being a prostitute when you were really just on your way to Barracuda? Been pulled over for being white? Deep-cavity searched because the powder in your coffee looked like pure Peruvian coke? Been pepper-sprayed just for punching a cop? Well, now’s your chance to bitch about it to somebody who wants to hear your story. And everybody else’s. Portland Copwatch is holding a "civilian police review board" Thursday to hear the stories of folks who have filed a complaint, regardless of the outcome, with the watchdog Independent Police Review. Victims claiming to be on the rough end of the good cop/bad cop spectrum are given two to four minutes to lay out their stories before Eileen Luna-Firebaugh, an expert hired by the city to conduct an evaluation of IPR and its Citizen Review Committee. The time limit allows the panel to weed out crazies who just came to shout "fuck da police" and get a better understanding of how situations have been handled by both the cops and the folks reviewing the complaints against them. Expect to laugh at dolts who can’t figure out why nothing happened to the cops who arrested them just because they were doing meth on a playground during recess. But also expect some important horror stories about victims lost in the cracks of the system. St. Francis Church - Dining Hall,, 330 SE 11th Ave., 236-3065. (Copwatch), 7-9 pm. All ages. 21+. Free. Map

Saturday December 8top

How Marketing Stole How the Grinch Stole Christmas

O Dr. Seuss, is your spirit not rested? Has your postmortem patience in product-placement been tested? Your works are a pleasure, your works are a joy, bringing color and wisdom to all girls and boys. But something’s aloof in your Seussical world, with all the product-whoring your estate-holders unfurled. From Rosie O’Donnell and a bad big-screen Cat, to Broadway and TV, Jim Carrey fell flat. And now, my old friend, spinning ‘round in your plot, along comes a plush-suited Grinch—who’d’ve thought?Well, actually it’s not that surprising that the perennial holiday grumpy-pants turned big-hearted sweetie the Grinch has deteriorated from a fantastic story to a rancid Ron Howard movie to one of the biggest, most obnoxiously used product-selling characters memorable? Now a plush-suited Grinch is making the rounds around the country, and stops at Powell’s Cedar Hills Crossing for some promotional whoring of Dr. Charles D. Cohen’s new retrospective, How The Grinch Stole Christmas! A 50th Anniversary Retrospective. This sounds like a straight-up Chuck E. Cheese-style Grinch, one who neither speaks nor steals Christmas presents, nor likely does much more than wave for photo ops. But hey, it’s also a chance to give to Toys for Tots. Still, a 50-year anniversary celebration for the Grinch deserves more than a dude in a suit. Between the plush Grinch and WW’s bad rhyming, the good Doctor is probably wincing in his pastel-colored grave. Powell's Books at Cedar Hills Crossing, 3415 SW Cedar Hills Blvd., Beaverton., 228-4651. All ages. 21+. Free. Map

We are Santa

It starts with a distant chant, a primal grunt echoing from afar. It gets louder by the second, accompanied by the tromping of boots, squeals of psychotic laughter and the smell of liquor floating in the wind. Soon, the sound begins to become clearer, until finally, syncopated "ho-ho-hos" signal an army of Santas traipsing through downtown, bringing tidings of Southern Comfort and joy. For more than a decade, Santacon has been crashing Christmas parties, strip clubs, Saturday Market, Pioneer Courthouse Square and every place in its path. It's become a global phenomenon, with cities like Chicago, Munich, Calgary and London listed as participants in the Santarchy. Reports on numbers for the Portland Cacophony Society’s gleeful celebration of bad-Santing ranges—WW has reported past numbers of 200, others place the number of Santas on the march at anywhere from a reasonable 300 to a drunken 12,000. But one thing’s for sure: Santacon is the best, most hysterical and all-out insane bar hop on the planet, a day of total anonymity. To the uninitiated—or to those who still haven’t figured out why the fuck this happens every year—Santacon meets at noon for a rally at Skidmore Fountain (at least that’s the tradition, although that’s not printed on Cacophony’s website). The mass of Santa proceeds through Saturday Market to the general amazement/horror of people doing last minute shopping. Santa’s a generous guy, so Santas are encouraged to bring gifts (which range from pork rinds and liquor to handmade "mutant toys") to hand out to gawkers. From then on out, it’s a tour-de-random. Last year, Santas packed like sardines onto the MAX, marched into a holiday concert at Pioneer Courthouse Square and crashed wedding photos at the Marina, where boaters were happy to transport Kringles across the river for a blitzkrieg attack on Outlaws, Union Jack’s and any place that would take them until 9 am. (From a personal standpoint, it was quite possibly the best night of my life.) Santa is discouraged from drinking in public, but drinking from gas cans, Listerine bottles or bleach containers is perfectly normal. Santacon is, after all, a marathon day of good-natured anarchy, and a centuries-old saint like Old Nick needs to stay hydrated. Skidmore Fountain, Southwest Ankeny Street and Second Avenue., noon. 21+. Free. Map