Except for Mark Jackson, ACT, and a bushel of other playhouses we’re totally forgetting, sometimes it’s hard to find theatrical events in San Francisco that hit hard without leaning on antagonizing political bullshit or outrageousness in sequins. Carlo D’Amore’s hyper and “semi-autobiographical” No Parole does just that. Why? Well, it’s got cocaine! It’s got a Peruvian diva-like matriarch! It’s got riches-to-rags immigrants! It’s got a faultless one-man performance! It’s got the disenfranchised and the......