A week after I removed Gawker from my RSS feeds list, they write the most idiotic and vitriolic rant about why New York sucks. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
I will post more later in response, but for now go and read it. All I have to say for now is that my secretary who is from Long Island loves it.
The great things about making a list about the 25 best something-or-other’s is there is always going to be disagreement and dissention, which are two of my favorite things.
But how does one select just 25 of the hundreds of thousands of characters from fantastic novels, plays, films and television show that have been set in our city? Well, first we laid down some ground rules:
- A fair mix of film, television, novels, comic books and plays, trying not to create too heavy of a skew to one medium or another
- No characters based on real people
- A healthy mix of modern vs. classic characters
- Famous duos canceled each other out (we might do a separate list for them later on down the line)
- For more modern, ensemble based shows (like Friends, Seinfeld, Sex and the City, etc) we decided to focus less on the main characters and more on a repeat secondary character
- Characters whose names we know, not just that they were the guy/girl from that thing
- Representation for some bad guys (not all great characters are heros)
- No two characters can be from the same show/movie/book, etc. With some many to choose from we didn’t want any duplicates.
From there we created a list of about 60 characters and whittled it down from there. The characters selected had a lot to do with which author wanted to write about whom and the order had a lot of do with schedules of the authors and such. The closest we got to a scientific method was mailing around suggestions and taking the ones that came up the most and putting them towards the top of the list. For instance, almost every person named Holden, so it was clear that he should be #1.
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Be Warned–All that irony and seedy 70’s porn-esque advertisements can really take their toll on your lumbar.
As seen in the storage basement of American Apparel in Williamsburg…steps away from a box of late 70’s Playboys. Don’t ask.
These are late in coming, but here are some photos of the corpse flower I took a week and a half ago when it was on display at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.
The corpse flower, or Baby, as the staff at the BBG called it, stood tall and proud in the middle of a greenhouse, cordoned off from spectators by a thin black rope. A small stream of people slowly walked around it and snapped pics before exiting out the other end of the room. I thought the corpse flower held itself without dignity throughout…
… even though, as you can see, it had a trapdoor cut into its heiney:
To answer the obvious question - no, I am afraid to report that Baby did not reek like something crawled up its spathe and died there. I did smell a faint whiff of something unpleasant, but it was probably B.O. After all, this was New York City on a 90-degree day. As it turned out, Baby had bloomed and unleashed its hotly anticipated olfactory statement during the night a few days before I went. I, of course, was a bit sad that Baby couldn’t hold it in until I finally got down to BK, but just seeing it was an amazing experience. After all, the corpse flower is like Halley’s Comet, and by the time Halley’s Comet flies around again I’ll be 81 and too busy swallowing my remaining teeth to pay attention. So Baby will have to take its place in my little bank of memories.
Another showdown which is guaranteed to bring about colorful debate, highly tense developers and loyal citizens into a public meeting goes down today. Forest-City Ratner has pretty much bought out all the right people thus far and it’s only a matter of time before public opinion is overshadowed with underhanded bribery.
But the dude is clever, he has signed into agreements saying that minority workers will get first shot at being employed through the project. He also says that the new $4.2 billion project will bring about more employment and better opportunities (NOT!) for the locals.
A huge concern that still remains is the schooling. If the proposed monstrosity is actually build, there will not be enough schools for children in the neighborhood to attend. Also the potential employees of the project will not be able to afford the fine retail/living quarters that will be created.
In any event the epic battle continues today!
For more information, visit the Atlantic Yards Report blog.
1. Expect to wait on line and expect it to take awhile
2. Do NOT cut in line if you value your life. Don’t invite your friend to cut in, either.
3. One word: deodorant
4. If you choose to use your cellphone while waiting on line, don’t shout your personal business
5. Personal space is important. Stay a respectful distance from the person in front and behind.
6. Rest assured everyone else in line is just as irritated as you are. Keep the sighing and bitching to a minimum.
7. “Inside voice” is a better option for all comments. This prevents misunderstandings and you getting beat up.
8. When you finally get to the top of the line, pay attention for your turn.
9. Remember your recent wait on line while at the counter and don’t dawdle.
10. Have all the information you need BEFORE you get to the line.
Thank you and Have a Nice Day.
Many of you may not know a thing about Jainism and the NY Jain Center which won some architectural award or another about being the city’s coolest religious building(?)
Today begins the week-long Jain festival of Paryushana. In these 8 days many Jains fast in various ways - but it is not required.
Jains have more than 1 type of fast. But what is common is that most strict Jains won’t eat any green vegetables for the week and will follow the rules of Jainism to the best of their ability. So, no green veggies, no undergound veggies (like potatoes, onions, etc.) It’s a dream diet almost for those modelesque types…
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Who’s Melissa with? Well, I can tell you that it’s NOT Steve Perry, but it sure does look like him doesn’t it.
My friends brought me to the Canal Room on Saturday to see Evolution, the Journey tribute band. I hate to admit this, but I had a BLAST! Hearing that music brought me back to the 80’s… without my big hair! These guys were actually quite good, I couldn’t get over it - and the crowd was just as fun. I spoke to a bunch of fans and so many of them said that they follow them everywhere and would rather see Evolution than Journey. Crazy shit. They were good, but I don’t think I’ll be traveling everywhere to see them.
After the show, I just had to get a picture with the lead singer… after the crowds died down. I think some people there actually believed that it was Journey. I didn’t have the heart to tell them otherwise.
They’ll be back at the Canal Room in October if anyone’s interested.
I hate Brooklyn. This is a common known fact to anyone who knows me. I hate the fact that people from out of state come to Brooklyn and make it their own. I never liked it before and hate it even more now that these outsiders play it up like the greatest living space known to man since I don’t know what . . . nothing has ever been hyped up as much as effing Brooklyn.
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Name: Holden Caulfield
Residence: East 71st Street
Likes: His brothers and sister, Jane Gallagher, those crazy ducks in the Central Park lagoon
Dislikes: Goddmaned phonies
Memorable quote: “Sleep tight, ya morons!”
The term “angst-ridden teen” doesn’t do justice to this native New Yorker, who’d probably slit his wrists before calling himself a New Yorker, a label he’d surely hate. He simply grew up on the Upper East Side, the second oldest - and the “dumbest” - of four siblings: D.B., a writer and “prostitute” in Hollywood, his younger brother Allie, dead three years from leukemia, and his much-loved younger sister Phoebe.
Thrown out of yet another private school, sixteen-year old Holden spends several nights wandering the city, from Times Square, to the Village, to the Museum of Natural History, encountering hypocrisy and “Fuck yous” everywhere. “I think, even,” he says, “if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a tombstone and all, it’ll say ‘Holden Caulfield’ on it, and then what year I was born and what year I died, and then right under that it’ll say ‘Fuck you.’ I’m positive, in fact.”
In the end it’s Phoebe who brings him around, convincing him to stay and let got of his madman’s idea of hitchhiking out west and working on a ranch. For the first time in a long time he feels happy as he sits in the rain and watches his sister ride around and around in the carousel in Central Park.
Holden hasn’t been seen in quite some time. Some say he did make it out west. Others claim that he never moved from 71st Street. I’d like to believe he’s still here, listening to jazz downtown, feeding the ducks at the lagoon, and watching that goddamned carousel, because despite all his rantings and ravings about phonies, crooks, and bastards, Holden loved this city, and I’d like to think he’d never leave, despite its scars. Because of them.
