Cut-Out Witch

I stumbled across PETA's demonstration in front of the Conde Nast building today (hey, I needed an excuse to get out of the apartment) and I took my digi-cam to document the action. It was very orderly with a small police presence which made me feel safe...from Si's IT Army.

Fur Witch (2.5 MB QuickTime video with Guided By Voices "The Perfect Life")

Also: If you want one of these buttons, contact Bucky Turco of Animal magazine. Special discounts if you email from a Conde Nast or Fairchild address.

It's Not All About Me

Not everyone can wrap dignity around a broken heart but Mike Tully does a noble job of packaging and sending it back for repairs. Don't worry man, it's just like that city bus we took to get to the beach in Rio which was supposed to take five minutes. You think you know where you're going, you pat yourself on the back for achieving what seemed like the impossible ("there's nothing like mastering mass transit in a foreign city" said the fool), then two hours later you end up outside of a football stadium totally confused with the bus driver asking you god-knows-what and all you can do is smile. Eventually the ride ends back where you started. No progress but the scenery was nice, no?

You'll Never Eat Lunch In This Frank Gehry-designed Cafeteria Again

I started writing a comment in the Gawker post about my dismissal yesterday from Conde Nast but I guess it's better to post these thoughts here. Prepare for long-winds and periods of heavy self-serving sleet, Hurricane Krucoff coming thru...

First, as many people have noted, there is absolutely no need to direct any pity towards me. (Of course, "free drinks" and "job offers" should never be thought of as "pity.") I'll be fine. My main concern is convincing my mom of that. It's been a rough year and blogging certainly has done quite a tap dancing number on my ass, both personally/professionally and positively/negatively, but I've emerged with new and improved layers of skin that are handy in these situations. The only thing thicker may be the irony, which I am the first to admit makes this latest twist slightly funny. Former Gawker Mentor/current Daily Transomer Choire Sicha was the first to respond to an email I sent around right after it happened and put it best: "i'll cry a bit when i finish laughing hysterically."

The thing that sucks the most about losing my job is I really liked it. That's been rare for me (probably for most people) and my bosses were pushing to get me permanent employee status. Conde Nast had all my loyalty and as soon as I took the job in June I adapted a very anti-Gawker stance (albeit playful) here if you hadn't noticed. I never did anything intentionally to compromise Conde Nast's name, value, reputation in the market, reveal the tiniest sliver of insider info or competitive intelligence. Accusations to the contrary are a bit hurtful. With that, let me add to a few of the comments I've seen around...

Radosh/Susie - Points well taken and as a freelancer they could have let me go if my shoes and socks didn't match but as I mentioned, I never leaked any "private" Conde Nast information while I was there, on or off the clock. Yes of course they knew of my Gawker connection before but I signed a confidentiality agreement and I intended to stick to it. If guilt by association is the charge then I never should have been hired. I'm sure Si Newhouse and Chuck Townsend did not review my resume in the beginning so maybe if they had I wouldn't have been offered the job. In any case, they seem very paranoid and unsure of what to make of the Internet and especially blogs. Just look at the Conde Nast websites, to say they have a cutting-edge Internet strategy would make Jukt Micronics look like Microsoft.

Forwarding the "server down" email was a thoughtless and regretful act, there's not much to read into it. IM/web access (that includes connection to my "regular" Yahoo email) were down so when the company email about server problems arrived I didn't think twice when I used it to write Jesse about something completely unrelated. I did not think for a second that Jesse, who I am friends with outside of this media/blog micro-colony, would use the email for Gawker fodder and when I saw it posted I immediately thought "holy fuck." Now I will only communicate via phone text messages. Gawker at least owes me a fuckin' Treo so my thumbs don't fall off.

If there isn't enough irony in this for you, add the fact that I was quoted JUST LAST WEEK in Crain's about bloggers who get fired from their job. (Read here on Property Grunt.) I sided with the companies and stated two simple rules: 1) don't blog about your work 2) don't blog during work hours. These rules were not broken. Do I need a third rule? Okay, 3) Don't forward company emails to anyone, especially Jesse Oxfeld, even if you explicitly say "do not publish" or think the receiving party would figure that out on their own.

And look ma, I made the New York Times.

Maccers Gets Sac'ed (And Other Non-Sequiturs)

When people say bloggers are anti-social shut-ins who hide behind their keyboards and never see the light of day or feel the warmth of human flesh other than their own hands, well, they're right. But last week a handful of us proved we could blast these stereotypes with high-octane awkwardness until our speakers cracked, everything started to sound scratchy, and everyone got a little gassy.

We took in a stranger who traveled 3,000 miles to visit the center of the universe for computer training (Advanced Excel) and an immersion course in NYC blogging, which he is now certified to teach both back in his native country of California. While some have the gall to doubt his very existence (to be honest, I'm still not completely sure this isn't all some hallucinatory Tyler Durden-esque dreamscape I'm swirling around in with midget hands and a giant belly), others could care less.

Actually, almost no one cared which became painfully obvious at the Welcome To The Magician's/Blottered Launch party for Sac. I spent over $300 on an open bar that was enjoyed by less than 10 people. If it weren't for pictures I would deny the entire episode. The pain of waking up the next day at 7am on my couch with burrito parts on and all around me within a 2-foot radius meant only one thing: Sac Is Real and I Need Help.

Besides not being a carrier of any strange Sacramentonian bird flu, he's a cool dude (my highest compliment) and looks a bit like Rev. Norb from Boris The Sprinkler (more flattering than it sounds) who used to have a column in MRR. He sums up the week more adequately than I care to here and here, so don't be afraid to saddle up and stick your ear in the horse's mouth.

I hope to see everyone again at next year's reunion in Concord, CA. Sewer Trout Rulz 2.0!

Dodgeball vs. Gawker: The Scott La Rock Mega Mix

Patrice, The Assimilated Negro, is doing his best to make sure the future of the Internet isn't "pretty much made of white people" by providing a hip-hop soundtrack to two lily urban-oriented online entities, Dodgeball and Gawker. In the spirit of citizen-citizenism, I'm taking it to the people and urging all to vote for their favorite track. Songs and some lyrics included in the links below.

Dodgeball vs. Gawker

Pick your favorite song.

YM Interview: Sac, Real Person

The guy who writes Sacramento is the New New York has a name. It's, unbelievably, Joaquin and he's not Hispanic. He stands taller than Nick Denton but not Chris Gage. He's been in town this week and loves questions about his tattoo, none of which are asked here. I've said too little.

Background: From the Bay Area, live in Sacramento, work indoors, I am age appropriate.

Please share a personal (and hopefully interesting) NYC taxi story.
Watching a well-known blogger pass out, then miraculously awaken right before his stop, toss a few dollars American over his shoulder, then disappear into the night. God damn I admire that guy. That or the time I arm-wrestled a hobo.

Time travel question: What era, day or event in New York's history would you like to re-live?
I would like to travel into the (not near enough) future to this coming Saturday, when I will fly out of this entirely fictional burg.

9pm, Wednesday - what are you doing?
Masturbating furiously. To no avail. Damn this arm cast.

What's your New York motto?
Does not exist.

Best celebrity sighting in New York, or personal experience with one if you're that type.
Spotting Curtis Sliwa and remembering him from the Phil Donahue show. This was before blogging. So it doesn't count.

Describe that low, low moment when you thought you just might have to leave NYC for good.
Right now, filling this out. I've never been lower.

Just after midnight on a Saturday - what are you doing?
Sleeping the sleep of the innocent.

What's the most expensive thing in your wardrobe?
My hairpiece.

Where do you summer?
In the freezer aisle of the nearest Safeway.

Who do you consider to be the greatest New Yorker of all-time?
Moot question.

What was your best dining experience in NYC?
Being served a two-pound pastrami sandwich at Carnegie Deli, then pointing and laughing at it as that's just ridiculous.

Just how much do you really love New York?
Enough to exchange clothing with it.

What happened the last time you went to L.A.?
I got golden brown.

Medication: What and how much do you take?
None. I cannot be improved.

Of all the movies made about (or highly associated with) New York, what role would you have liked to be cast in?
Godzilla 2000

If you could change one thing about New York, what would it be?
Make bigger pastrami sandwiches.

The End of The World is finally happening. Be it the Rapture, War of Armageddon, reversal of the Sun's magnetic field, or Williamsburg stops sucking. What are you going to do with your last 24 hours in NYC?
Give them to the homeless.

Day of Balonement

This was the picture attached to an email reminder for Yom Kippur from the Soho Synagouge I received a couple days ago. Not sure if he's atoning or committing.
Previously: For Complex Sins...

Jacob Javits, I'd Like To Thank You For Everything (Primarily Your Glass House)

All are invited to the official Blottered.com Launch Party at The Magician, 7:00pm Tuesday October 11th. Limited number of free happy hour drink tickets will be distributed by me so make sure to get there in the first five minutes. Special guests are contracted to attend.

I just remembered tomorrow marks a special anniversary in NYC history. It was ten years ago to the day that I packed a dufflebag full of my dad's work shirts and post-grunge survival techniques to head north on 95 from Maryland and establish roots here. Spent the first five weeks in the weeds of a Williamsburg loft, sleeping on the floor with a lesbian couple before moving into Manhattan's 125 Stanton Street, never to look back. (Except for that crystal shit bus ride to Atlantic City with a six-pack of Weltschmerz.)

Since then crime has been down but terror is up. Shouldn't take long to rewind the tape to 1995, sort through all the mess, and play it all over again on fast-forward through the course of the night.

Walken And Cruisin'

Click here for larger version

When Gage and I did "data dumps" for Gawker [1] and Defamer [2] we never collected one red dime from them for our efforts. Nevermind that red dimes are not usually exchanged in any kind of work-for-no-pay agreement or that we only put forth a wooden nickel's worth of material. We finally got the call from an editor at Giant magazine who offered us $200 a pop for these retardometers. Holy shit, we thought, two of these a month would be easy work to make some extra beer and hooker money. Then we remembered how lazy we are. Fortunately we had one in the can ready to go for Defamer and it was an easy decision to pick which route to take. Money! Print! Legitimacy! Our Cruise/Walken Celebrity Face-Off chart made it into Giant's third issue which was on the newsstands this past January/February. Of course, we never got paid, many more people would have seen it on Defamer, and I'll be surprised if Giant publishes an issue #10.

One note about the chart, we originally compared Google hits for "[name]" + "gay" but they made us change it to the lamely "genius." As it stands now, the results for the original search phrase are:

1,740,000 for "tom cruise" gay
237,000 for "christopher walken" gay

Clarification: I should have said my contact at Giant gave me so many chances to be a regular contributor of data pieces but I squandered them all. (Sorry, Ben.) The re-design of the magazine looks great, may they live to see issue #100 and beyond. Also, I never got paid because I fucked-up the paperwork and never bothered to follow-up with them. Completely my fault. I used to do the same when I delivered the Washington Post in junior high. For some reason I hated going back to the houses to collect money. Such a pain in the ass.

Sacramento Is The New New Yorker Festival

Next week we are hosting the inaugural Sacramento Is The New New Yorker Festival and barely-clothed events are tentatively planned for each night of week. Take off your "TOP" and please join us.

Monday: Opening Night, Private Reception @ Public, 8PM (For those not invited we suggest watching VH1 Classic for a couple hours)
Tuesday: Blottered.com Launch Party @ The Magician, 8PM (The week's main stage event)
Wednesday: Yom Kippur Observance/Sacto vs NYC Debate @ TBD, 8PM
Thursday: Punk Rock Happy Hour @ 12", 6:30-9PM (The week's side, but still killer, stage event)
Friday: Food/Photo/Knitting Blogger Meet-Up @ Staten Island Ferry, 7PM (Bring your wares and show-off!)

All or none of these parties may or may not occur, and not necessarily at the stated times and places. Check back often for updates. This has partial affiliation with SITNNY but absolutely none with the real New Yorker Festival.

For Complex Sins, Soak Wonder Bread In Bathtub Gin...

I don't remember the last time I went to High Holiday services but I got suckered this year and it's sad only because I was enchanted by the phrase "boutique synagogue" and the promise of an open wine bar. [The Soho Synagogue]

Also, check out my rockin' new year's MP3 blog post about getting featured in the NY Daily News yesterday by everyone's favorite two-toned Jew turned born-again Catholic.

Gleaming Spiers: Are You Ready For The Sex, Girls?

Last week on W. 55th Street, in a scene that looked like death warmed over a sterno flame, there was a launch party for Bee magazine - a monthly periodical for "the woman who is interested in politics, lifestyle & finance." The target audience, in other words, is Susan B. Anthony or the girls you dated in college who laughed at sorority solidarity but still wept when they found their names on a fraternity's dartboard of whores.

I've stated before how I highly doubt the market would support a women's magazine that wraps those interests around a "sexy, smart vibe" because I assume most women, especially independent-minded ones, don't claim their viewpoints or the interesting stories that appeal to them aren’t already well-represented by the women (and men) who write for gender-neutral publications like the New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly, Wall Street Journal, Forbes, Vanity Fair, and many other editorial venues, including newspapers and blogs.

Beauty and fashion magazines serve specific functions that don’t involve exploring the depths of business, politics, and social commentary. Simply put, there’s a reason Maya on "Just Shoot Me!" was the butt of so many jokes. And not just because of her huge rack.