Rachelle Hruska, Dear (Or: "I Am Using Your Name In The Title Of This Post To Ensure The Words "Your Name" Appear Well-Regarded By Google")

Isn't the left-side beautiful? Writing something here is the difference in between climbing into a fluffy, cool, made bed, and laying your head to rest on a pile of angry, craggy rocks.

Anyway. I guess this is where I'm supposed to take the (Kosher-certified/Omaha) beef, right? I was going to wait a week to do this, but in a week this thing would be long gone (and thus, maybe, kinda new again). Two days after and now it's just tired, totally uninteresting, and something we've all moved on from. This is my version of totally burying a news cycle via quicksand effect. Of course, there's that other way of doing it, by just shutting the fuck up, but in the grand tradition of people who can't shut the fuck up (namely: everyone reading this), that's just not gonna to happen.

I've already said: I've had a great time. And if none of the involved parties enjoyed this, you are joyless, sad, and angry. There's been a lot of blood pressure raised over this! I got a stern talking-to in a clurrb! And I'm not going to get into who's "right" and who's "wrong," first, because the only people worth listening to about being right are - and forgive the Garrison Keeler-esque folksy shit here - people who are capable of admitting that they're wrong, who are also (like people who can shut the fuck up) in short demand around these parts. No, the only way to measure this thing is by who "won," and when I say "won," I mean, out of all the people I've interacted with in the last week, who has the lowest blood pressure that isn't plagued by pre-existing medical condition (hypotension, namely). I'm just going to start walking around with one of those portable monitors and being all like "Gimme your arm!" Creepy, yes, but also: statistically effective. And we know how I love me some stat porn (Nic will get this).

Anyway. Here's the email I sent to Rachelle Hruska, and the response I got back. I'm not linking shit. If you're here, you know what happened by now.

1. BlackBook definitely pays guest contributors (well-documented dispute with an in-breach freelancer aside).
2. Real talk: "Largely unpaid staff" is the quote I got from the Times, which you assured me time and time again was "real journalism" and then put me on blast for using that line as a source of information. If other "real journalism" needs to be called up and double-checked, how real is it? If the Times got the story right, they would've written about your "largely paid and cared for" staff and the "largely unpaid content" you receive from friendly contributors on the site. Right? What if I'm not the only reader who drew the conclusions from the Times piece that I did? Should they all call you, too?
3. Paying for writers and paying for journalism are two totally different things. I'm not paid for journalism. I'm paid to blog. Ask anybody at Gawker if they'd call themselves journalists; ask Nick if he'd call any of his writers journalists, I can't imagine he would. [I read the Howard Kurtz piece after writing this. In it, Denton notes that any journalism that happens at Gawker is incidental.] Would you call yourself a journalist? Anybody coming to Gawker for New York Times-level reportage might be a little off the mark (then again, Jayson Blair, so, you know, that whole thing) - they have an obligation towards liability. Gawker's been wrong before; as you said this morning, so have you. Now: let's say an organization only writes what they get straight from the subject (inherently biased in the subject's direction) without providing their readers with context or opinion. Then they're writing press releases and being a mouthpiece of the subject. And what's uglier: an outlet tethered to the information it gets from the subject (and nothing else) or one that can see around the interference the subject's going to post?
4. You blasted me for not calling you before I was going to run my piece. You didn't call me! :(
5. I wouldn't compare what I did to Fox News. Mean! I'm not exploitative and nor do I pride on hurting people; I'd call it ribbing at best and digging into at worst. Fox News is malicious. You know that.
6. You misspelled "plesant." I only care about this because it was the one nice thing I got said about me! Although, in all honesty, I'm probably more plesant than I am pleasant.

Other than that, you were definitely right about the following things:

1. "Populist demagoguery" is pretty much the name of the game with every Gawker Media site [especially those vigilant fucking gadget nerds]. That's what I get paid to do, though, that being said, it's not always the populist fire I'm feeding (sometimes, if you've ever read anything by Gawker's frightening weekend commenters, you'd see it's an anarchist minority. They're a readership worth worrying about). Also, what a phrase to use! Whether or not you give a shit about journalism, the writing is most definitely there. [Though I will say, the Sunday Styles specializes in a certain kind of dem-a-gog-ur-y, though most of their readers would think that's a new skin treatment.]
2. "As you know from the Times piece, I left a secure job in finance to take on tremendous risk and a drastic pay cut to build GofG. As it stands, the world we live in isn’t perfect and the income disparity between industries does not always seem “fair” or “right.” A discourse on the root of the problem is probably one that exceeds the scope of both your and my skill sets." (A) It's admirable, and I've said as much often, and (B) you're absolutely right on all counts here.
3. And as Rachel Sklar will be very quick to tell you, I'm still very much a beginner at this. You know this is my seventh weekend, right? I've done some pretty great things (most recently: scooped everyone on the sale of VSL to the Observer, on a Sunday, no quotes required. And I was right!), but when you're writing Gawker single-handedly, nine to thirteen posts a day, and trying to do it during the weekends, your ability to get quotes is limited. (Cajun Boy has the same problems at night [though he did manage to get ahold of the Megan Fox-fatkid-fan identifier!]; but the Gawker Manna From The Gods - the Sunday Times - isn't coming out for him every night). Does that mean I shouldn't write the stories? Shit, I hope not. In both cases, I could've gotten quotes from you and Sklar, and maybe I was wrong for not making a good faith attempt on both ends (though the situation with Sklar is TOTALLY different; she didn't have the information on you - the Times article - out there on her). So: I'm still learning. Isn't that nice, though? There're worse things than a guy who can take his licks and roll with 'em as lessons thereafter. Nice job. We can buy each other rounds 'next time. -f.

Her response to me, below. My comments in bold.

1. i was talking about their interns- i know a couple they are not paid WTF?
2."I understand how the line in the NYTimes article that described GofG as having a staff “largely unpaid” reads, however, your interpretation and understanding of this quotation is incomplete. This quotation, admittedly deserving clarification, attempts to convey the user-generated component of our content structure." id you read that? I did, but Hruska's the one comparing me to the "real journalism" of the Times that needs clairification. Also, funny aside, though: assuming you do pay four people, the Huffington Post only pays five. So you're still better than her.
3 this is much longer discussion
4.i posted on my wee tumblr, not a site that gets --what is it 22 million hit snow? Fuck if I know. Denton probably piles on the numbers anyway. I think he told Sharon Waxman over eggs that we're more read than Google, or something, and she believed it. Which is superb.
5. feelings have nothing to do with this-it's factss I first read that as "fatass," so maybe I'm just projecting. But yes, factss.
6. thank you i fixed and you are pleAsant:) For my first club-oriented altercation, you were as well. I fully expect Rachel Sklar to shake me out over a roof like Suge Knight next time, though.

Are we done?

Heart Of The City (Ain't No Love) - Jay-Z feat. The Roots

State of the Internet, Part 4: Resolve, Questionable Or Otherwise, Revisited.

Sometime in December, I decided I was going to put together a three-part series on the Way Things Are Now versus The Way They Were and The Way We Want Them To Maybe Be. Things were really fucking bad in December, and they continued to get worse for a while, and it was a long, long goddamn winter for many of us. For example: Did you know that I almost quit media/New York/writing and was this close to moving back to Asheville in February? You do, now! Others, though: not so much! Anyway, the project fell by the wayside and/or victim to the KB, like so many of the other things we tend to do around here. When the B-Side boxed set comes out, god. damn.

But here we are! In the spirit of the left-side revival, I've dug deep and re-animated this fucker, this beast, this three-part series, one part of which was written in the back seat of a car in a trip from Miami to Tampa that involved Taco Bell and a fear that I would never sleep again.

Before going home for the holidays, I contacted a nice sample of media people who had seen some degree of success (or tragedy) over the course of the last year. These are the ones who got back to me with their New Years resolutions. I would provide context for them, but they're all invited to please pitch in on the comments, and let us know (in their own words) how they're doing. And if they won't, I'm sure someone will. L'chayim!

Keith Gessen, Author of "All The Sad Young Literary Men": I've given this a lot of thought and in truth my plans for the coming year for the Tumblr and my ongoing war with the internet are complicated and contradictory. Mostly they involve staying away from it and that as much as possible. On the other hand, I put some porn up the other day--and, I have to say, that was fun. I'm not promising anything. But--keithgessen.tumblr.com. Happy New Year.

Rex Sorgatz, Spencer Morgan profilee: I resolve to never again find myself in a circular, incestuous, flaming, anonymous, insidery, hate-bating, clusterfucking, lulzing, tumbletarding "online debate" held on some stupid blog's comment thread. FUCK. YOU.

Caroline McCarthy, cNet reporter, "The Social": A few months ago I realized I walk around with my fists clenched. I don't see how this could possibly be a good thing. My New Year's resolution is to stop walking around with my fists clenched. I know it sounds lame but it's a big deal for me, really.

Jeff Rosenthal of The Real: This past year, I spent too much time trying to be like Julia Allison. No, I didn't drink BluePrint cleanses; I didn't pretend to enjoy Mary Rambin's company; but I, like Julia, didn't get paid for my internet venture. So, next year, I hope that changes. [Or: "2008 was, for me, all about being a Microcelebrity. Next year, I hope to be Internet Famous."]

Will Leitch, columnist at New York Magazine: In 2008, I went to two foreign countries (bringing my lifelong total to "four"), switched jobs, spent a month-and-a-half driving across the country, parried threats of bodily harm by a future NFL Hall of Famer, was called a racist on National Public Radio, and made lifelong enemies with a legendary rapper, a diminutive sportscaster, a Pulitzer Prize winner and a billionaire. What do I want from 2009? I want to sleep.

Alex Blagg, lead editor at Wonderwall: I just hope that in 2009, someone comes up with yet even more new ways for me to pointlessly consume and disseminate information on the Internet. There's still a solid 20 - 30% of my day that I spend "unplugged", totally unsure of what to do with myself, terrified I might be missing something somebody said about someone. Please, half-baked young social networking start-up people who favor fashion accessories and the arbitrary omission of vowels - help me.

Jeff Bercovici, formerly of Mixed Media at Portfolio, currently of Daily Finance: Oh, man. I had a resolution but I already forgot it. Seriously. 2009 is not off to a good start.

Ana Marie Cox, Wonkette emereti, Daily Beast contributor: I resolve to not work for a dying publication or industry ever agai--- oh, wait...

Sheila McClear, Gawker emereti, ASSME and Daily Beast contributor: OK! Starting January, I'll be exploring the annals of unemployment for the first time in eighteen months. I'm thinking of taking up new hobbies that could serve as income-generators, mostly involving the off-track betting parlor in Greenpoint. I won $7 on a scratch-off the other day, but it just wasn't enough of a rush. I would also like to cut down on benzos and blogging.

Okkervil River - The Latest Toughs

Previously: "This Year"

Who's House?

Artist's rendering via NVC.

Holy shit. I'm clearing out the cobwebs here. It's been so long since I've taken to the left side/since Paolo first blogjacked it that the floorboards are all creaky and I just got some dust up my snooter and ACHHLEW! [Ed. Gesundheit!] Speaking of which, there's a party tonight: it's Katie's birthday! And speaking of skiing, Katie's a great skier. Srsly!

Anyway: this reminds me of that time, like, a few weeks ago, when I offered the backchannel an opportunity to hold a roast for 99 at his birthday party (predictably, at Joe's, The Most Depressing Bar On 6th Street That Isn't The Cherry Tavern). Nobody responded, so for his birthday, he ended up with one drink (purchased by me, which does nothing to chip away at a year's worth of YM-subsidized booze) and an email full of bad police brutality jokes.

As for Bakes, I would roast her, but it's hard! For example, my source material:

• She has this innane obsession with Mickey Kaus that I really don't understand.
• Did you know there was once a picture of her in Business Week when she was like, ten, because she ran some kind of forum for thicknecked Rangers fans on Prodigy or something? Truth!
• She also has friends who don't work in media, and she doesn't work in media, which makes her media fetish as unhealthy, strange, and worrysome as Curt's. That being said, if she ever gets a job in media, I'm leaving New York: that'd be like going home from college to find out the Girl Next Door got addicted to Oxycotin after hanging out with all the bad kids for so long and managing to completely stay out of trouble. DO NOT WANT.
• I can't think of a single person who doesn't like her, which sounds like non-compliment, but around these parts, it's really not. Also, she taught me what advertorial was and didn't make fun of me for not knowing sooner for more than, like, a week.
• Katie's the kind of person that can survive having a facist roommate without bludgeoning them, which is also impressive. This actually happened, and the worst thing Bakes really ever did about it was break down the door to her apartment, which she contends was not an act of agression so much as the need to go to the bathroom. She's even too nice to admit that she was raging against the (Jewish NeoCon) machine.
  
• She devotedly wears her Giants jersey when she watches games at home.
  
• Her dogs smell (or: look like they smell) and she likes them anyway.
  

The point is, there's really not that much to roast Katie over, or maybe there is, but really, like, how could you? Anyway. She's (predictably) having another party at Barramundi and I fully intend on buying her and her charitable cause a drink. She is wonderfully smart, talented, a great friend, by far, the funniest writer on the YM masthead and inextricably (maybe, for her - and especially for Dave - tragically) part of the family. Katie, you might be a shiksa, but you're our shiksa*, goddamnit. This joint goes out to you:



*But Bakes is not the only shiksa in the YM-Tang Clan! I'm not sure exactly what persuasion Spiers is, but she probably renounced it, like, nine years before you've even heard of it, anyway.

NYC Ballet Dancers: When We Were Kids

There's been some talk here lately about the ballet. I offered a reminder about the $25 orchestra seat tickets made available by the NYC Ballet every week for each performance. Fek announced that he "recently went to see a set of four variations at ABT. we got $25 tickets and ended up in the second row of the met. i wore a suit. it was classy." He's right, it is classy. How about taking a peek inside the NYC Ballet?

Baltimore Is the New Brooklyn*

Read this tweet: "Uh, called it a million years ago? RT @mindykaling: Just read that MIA has deemed Baltimore the new Brooklyn." and was like hmm...when did that happen? Searching on Google, I didn't find any reference. The video above popped up, as did this Brooklyn VS Baltimore sheet, as well as these photos from an awesome Brooklyn VS Baltimore battle of the bands here in Bushwick. What what Brooklyn represent! Onward to Baltimore! (I hear Cherry Hill is up and coming and might be getting a cheese shop/gourmet ice cream truck, with a Twitter!)

*for white people.

p.s. Baltimore, Im sorry.

Everybody at the Webutante Ball had an umbrella

Waiting online for the Webutante Ball
It rained yesterday, which means people who enjoy consuming more than their fair share extend that practice while in public spaces, walking around carrying umbrellas without consideration for others. Unaware or unconcerned for their fellows, many follow the trend of having huge umbrellas that are almost impossible to avoid, creating an orb of invincibility 5ft in circumference around them, which can not be penetrated. This flies in the face of those who wear rain coats or ponchos, in consideration of others. What's more, by combining a rain coat with rain boots, you begin to give back to the community by way of contributing a pleasing esthetic.

While on my way to the ballet, I took to Twitter to rail against this injustice of inconsideration. Which turned out to be fitting, because the walk over drove me bonkers. As any ten year old girl can tell you, "you have a hard day, and then you come to dance class and you can just forget about everything..."

At the American Ballet Theater, tickets in the balcony are $26 and it is quite a view.

Next door at the NYC Ballet, every week they sell 50 orchestra seats for $25, to each performance of the Spring Season. Those are regularly priced at $90. That means you can sit in the second row if you like. You could also opt to become a member of the NYC Ballet for $20 a year, which entitles you to $15 tickets for balcony seating at every performance.

Across the street from the ABT, a long line of people with umbrellas were standing in a line. In their defense, they were all standing to the side. Today I learned that this was a line of people waiting for entry into the Webutante Ball.

Catch a Fragment of Figment at Desalvio Playground

Come taste a Fragment of Figment! FREE and open to the public! If you only come to see Jim Avignon, (pictured at right) you should know that would be reason enough.

When: Saturday June 6th through Sunday 7th
Where: Desalvio Playground in beautiful Nolita (NORTHERN Little Italy) The Corner of Spring and Mulberry Streets. And in and around local galleries and businesses (Map)
Hours: 11 - 7pm

Fragment will be an urban hors d’oeuvre for the famous feast that is the Figment summer art event on Governor’s Island. On Saturday & Sunday, Desalvio Playground will host large-scale interactive art for the whole community to explore. Come listen to live music, dance, spoken word performances, and unique performance art pieces on our stage. The two components of Fragment are Art in the Park and the Nolita Art Walk.

Saturday June 6th: HIGHLIGHTS
Neighborhood Artists Daniella Day (pictured at right) and Aaron Thompson (www.artlesnyc.com)(act like you know)) will be exhibiting their large scale collaged canvases and showing you how to create your own art by fusing unexpected materials onto usual surfaces.
1pm : Classical Indian Dance by Carol Tessitore
2pm: Jessica Delfino's kid friendly folk songs worthy of adults
4pm: Berlin artist Jim Avignon's 1-man-band NEOANGIN: charming electronics-gone-mad-jumpandsingalongs about the nowheres and noones in this world. With masks and paintings set to music!

Sunday June 7th: HIGHLIGHTS
Daniella Day and Aaron Thompson return
Lots of fun and surprises including large scale painting with legendary LES muralist marcoart.com
and 5:30pm New Orleans innovators Brother Joscephus & The Love Revival
Revolution Orchestra

Partcipating Art Walk Galleries: Whitebox, Envoy, Fushion Arts Museum, Thierry Goldberg Projects, Janos Gat, DCKT Contemporary, Jen Bekman Gallery, Moes Meat Market, Museo Ermanski and more! Maps @ Desalvio

Thank you for supporting free community art events! Please spread the word and hope to see you @ Fragment!

-Daniella Day
for Fragment

p.s. Katie I dont think Ive ever seen you at the neighborhood association mettings: www.nolita.us

mad asks a

"If you live in New York City, you have undoubtedly seen the Wet Paint signs in the subway, and have also seen the sign rearranged to say Aint Wet.

Whoever first thought to tear off the P and rearrange the words is a genius. So perfect in both form and function, it’s hard to believe the idea ever did not exist."

Photo by Adam Sacks: More here.

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When is a Facade Really Just a Facade?

By AARON HOWELL
Published: Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Tenants living in rent-regulated apartments on W. 14th Street lost their homes two weeks ago when New York City deemed their building’s structure unsafe from a collapsing façade.

Unfortunately for the tenants – who have been in homeless shelters, staying at friends and given shelter by the Red Cross – the city ordered the front facade completely removed and won’t let the tenants move back in until Stanley Wasserman, the owner of 152 W. 14th Street, replaces the façade. (more photos at Curbed. According to DOB records, 150 W. 14th, also well known for violations and disrepair, is not owned by Stanley Wasserman. Both buildings have been ordered evacuated.)

“There is a lack of maintenance that [Stanley] is known for but ours is structurally damaged,” Viktor Luna said last Thursday in housing court as he and other tenants try to force a resolution to the loss of their homes. “We are also human beings that pay rent and doing this to us is inhumane.”

The DOB complaint log on 150 West 14th Street is online here. Among others, you can see in 2007 a violation was issued for: "VIOLATION FILED FOR FAILURE TO MAINTAIN FRONT FACADE BULGING AND BUCKLING AT VARIOUS LOCATIONS THROUGTOUT" [sic]

The Department of Buildings, a city regulatory agency that looks for code violations, issued the order to Mr. Wasserman, but according to the tenants’ lawyer Shafaq Islam, the department cannot force violators to fix a building’s problems. Only a judge in housing court can force a landlord, and in the case of the tenants only Honorable Judge David B. Cohen can force Mr. Wasserman to fix the façade.

So far the tenants have received a rent reduction from the city applied to their apartments, they currently only have to pay one dollar a month for a place they can’t live in, preventing Mr. Wasserman from evicting them for not paying rent. A few of the tenants who have brought the lawsuit against Mr. Wasserman have been offered housing in another SRO building down the street (Mr. Wasserman owns three SRO buildings on 14th Street) after having preliminary hearings in front of the judge, who recommended that Wasserman find the tenants housing.

For tenants to get placed in the new building however, they must agree to certain terms that Mr. Wasserman set. Terms that one tenant, who prefers to remain anonymous, feels he cannot accept. These include permanently giving up any claims to his previous apartment, and dropping the lawsuit against Mr. Wasserman.

“If we do accept new tenancy here in the other building, we are afraid that we will end up in the same situation of being forced to vacate down the road,” said the tenant. “Inside the place they want us to move is in very bad condition, the stairways and such are in very bad condition.”

Susanna Blankley, a tenant organizer for the West Side SRO Law Project that helps protect tenants from predatory landlords, said that for a wealthy landlord, a violation means very little and only helps him remove tenants from his buildings due to poor living conditions.

Mr. Wasserman, who in 2003 owned 70 or so multi-family dwellings in Manhattan and the Bronx, with most if not all of his income coming from his other properties, effectively evicted all of his tenants in the case of the collapsing façade. Ms. Blankley speculates that if Mr. Wasserman gets the building cited as structurally unsound, he can demolish the building and replace the rent-regulated, single-room occupancy (SRO) units with high-end, luxury rentals.

In a downtown Manhattan area like 14th Street, Mr .Wasserman could make a significantly larger profit with luxury rentals, over what he currently makes owning an SRO building. SRO buildings often act as housing of last resort to keep people off the street. Rents rarely exceed $400 a month, and the city sets a percentage limit that the landlord may raise the rent each year through rent regulation. With 24 units currently in the building with the removed facade, half of them held vacant by Mr. Wasserman, he makes little if no profit.

Mr. Wasserman, nor his lawyers have been available for comment. Last Thursday in court Mr. Wasserman’s lawyer Martin Meltzer said he felt it inappropriate to comment since the case currently rests in litigation.

However, with the problem of the façade starting in 2007 when he received a violation but refused to take action, and then in 2009 when the city vacated just the front of the building and he still refused to take action to fix the problem, Mr. Wasserman continually ignored the city until they insisted on May 7th, 2009, that he remove the façade at the price of $140,000, and displaced the entire building.

Currently Mr. Wasserman won’t replace the front façade until he gets the building inspected, making sure that it is structurally sound. The Department of Buildings did a visual inspection and they believe the building to be fine, but still Mr. Wasserman wants his own inspection that he believes could take up to two months. During that time the tenants have no home.

David Arthur-Simon lives in yet another SRO building of Wasserman, and worries that the same fate of losing his home looms in his future. His building recently received a citation from the city for cracks in its façade, a similar violation to the original one in 2007 that displaced the tenants in 150 W. 14th Street. He worries that Mr. Wasserman plans to let the façade go without fixing the violation.

“They don’t come here at all to deal with this stuff,” said Mr. Arthur-Simon, who remembers one Christmas not having heat for a week. “People call up for repairs all the time and the never get help.”

(Photo at top by Jeremy Holmes. All links added by Paolo Mastrangelo.)

I Want To Kiss You With My Mouth

"I made out with Mike in the subway on the way home. It was magical. It was only the fourth or so time I had made out with someone I already knew. Most of my sexual encounters have happened when I've gone out to pick someone up, and they've mostly been one-night stands - some, anonymous. That's why my fondness - mutual, I thought - for Mike was so innocent and thrilling for me. On my way home, I was plotting how I would make it work with Mike - for once, not plotting how I would fuck things up. But the next day, on the phone, he said he'd rather be friends. I immediately felt fat, ungraceful, exposed, and surprised. I don't remember what I was wearing when that happened, but if I did, I would certainly never wear that outfit again."
-Gee Henry

We are all God's creatures, in a world all alone no matter how many applications are on your iphone.

The homeless are now referencing your trappings of affluence, throwing tiny little darts at you tipped with classist barbs. Sweet.

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry to disturb your ride. My name is Philip and I'm homeless. I'd like to ask for your help and any food or change you might have is appreciated. An apple, a nickle, or just a kind thought. God bless you and your family. I'd like to read you a poem I wrote."

Phillip started reciting his poem on the 2 train downtown, after getting on at 125th st. I swear I heard him reference "iphone applications". When he was finished and walked by me, I asked him, "Excuse me, did you reference iphone applications in that poem?"

"Yes I did."

"Hmm. That was tight."

"Thanks."

I watched him as he moved through the cars and exited at 42nd St. I left the train too. I considered asking him if I could video tape him reciting it, but then thought better of that. A copy on paper is all I need. I caught up to him and called his name. He turned around and I asked him if he wanted to go have something to eat. We walked around for a while and talked about being homeless and doing drugs and living in Long Island. We talked about him mom and dad and living in a shelter that sucks because people lie cheat and steal. He used to have an mp3 player too, but someone at the shelter swiped it. We stopped at a Burger King near 34th St and ate.

I asked Phillip if he would write the poem out for me, and told him I would be reproducing it online somewhere. So he did, and it's below.

"Try to look at the world through another person's eyes. As a loved one passes on, a newborn baby cries. In a world filled with war and nations torn apart, wouldn't life be better if we spoke through our hearts? Brothers and sisters and fathers killing sons. When you tally the losses can war ever be one. It's not about color and not about race. It's not important who's popular on YouTube or Myspace for we are all God's creatures, in a world all alone no matter how many applications are on your iphone. So I ask you now to turn down your mp3 and think for a moment, what if it happened to me?"

Fwiw, I like to remember that we're all gonna be dead soon, a few decades maybe. So like, might as well do something now while you can and buy some dude a hamburger. Or not, whatever.

Telling Your Stories, One Neighborhood Stoop at a Time

Photos of Brooklyn Stoops c.1977 from Whiskeygonebad’s Flickr
From the 92Y Blog:

Your building’s stoop. A community institution as important as the barber shop or coffee shop. It is where you meet your friends, watch people pass by, flirt with girls, listen to your music, or talk with your super. The stoop in New York City is your building’s community center.

If you are blessed to experience that stoop in New York City, you are blessed to know of an experience that approaches the status of a national treasure. And if your stoop is in Brooklyn, well there is a good chance your experience with it has been immortalized in movies, books, poems, art work, and song.

Over at the 92Y, they celebrate the culture of the stoop, namely the stories you listen to or share while on it.

On March 26, presented in conjunction with The Storytelling Center, The 92Y presents the series Stories From The Stoop: Borough Park, Brooklyn. You probably want to go.

Five Points

Today saw me twitter 19 times, and I'm really concerned about that. I often unfollow other Twitters when I find my home page polluted with so many tweets by one person. And now here I am, that asshole. I mean, just look at the previous sentences. Seven times I said me or I. Ten now. WTF?!

Exercising the blogging might help curb the desire to pollute Twitter, but they were some really good tweets, and I felt obliged to post them. For instance,

East Greenbush New York. http://www.eastgreenbush.org/ Who knew? "As I write this by candlelight, with the sound of icy trees crackling..."

"Five Borough Defense is a meeting place for public defenders in New York City" Thats hott. http://fiveboroughdefense.com

@bpopken says that Sheppard Fairey is against making original art (duh). I want a comment from @buckyturco (http://bit.ly/Ff6hg) on that.

NYC is so expensive! I just spent $2.16 on half pound potato salad, one fresh roll, 6 picante olives and three slice of pepper jack cheese

RT @NewYorkology Apollo Theater is doing free tours again this weekend for 75th anniv http://tinyurl.com/c7btej

You can put these in a book, but Fuck You Pay Me

Nice band-aid. Nevan Palermo Donahue on the City, looking, er, relaxed

I'm going with number 1). He gave blood.

Bob Dylan was a cheap cocksucker

"Bob Dylan used to come into the club for soup and Charlie was always being asked about him by young tourists. His reply was always the same. 'Bob Dylan? Dylan? Oh yes, I remember him. He was a cheap cocksucker! Never would give you a nickel. He shouldda dropped a hunnert on me for all I did for him. Yeah, he was a cheap cocksucker!'"

Welcome to nyc.ppl™. An ongoing series of interviews with ny'ers. Ivan Ulz, a well known children's musician, kicks off the series. Ivan moved to Greenwich Village, NYC in 1980. Looking for work in New York City, Ivan decided to play a hunch and applied for a job in a nursery school. He began working as an assistant teacher and quickly realized that his real expertise was in making music with children. Word got around and soon Ivan was employed as a “music specialist,” playing and singing at a number of Village schools each week.

NYC.gov has described your song Fire Truck as an "anthem among preschoolers across the country." What else is Ivan Ulz known for that might not be immediately apparent?

I started writing songs when I was 18 after I saw the British actress Hayley Mills in the film, “Whistle Down the Wind.” I was determined to meet her at the very least, so I picked up the guitar I had been playing for less than a year, and composed a tune called “A Letter to Hayley”. The song was heard by a couple of the Four Preps, who’d had several pop hits. They took me into a recording studio where I sang the song and they printed a thousand copies with my new name of Billy Kidd. It sold a moderately but shortly after that the Beatles emerged and it was decided that the Four Preps would change a few words and make my song “A Letter to the Beatles”. The song stayed on the charts for several weeks. I was shortchanged on credit and royalties but it whetted my appetite to become a songwriter.

Why do you think children respond so positively your music?

I lived in a nursery school with my parents from the time I was 7 until I was 18 and left home. Although I was an “only” child I came home to almost 40 preschool children everyday after I had gone to school of my own. They were there, I was there, and we talked and I guess just sort of hung-out. What I am saying is I learned their language. I read them stories, sang them songs, and observed their likes and dislikes. I wasn’t crazy about the situation at the time, but looking back I can see how it was a perfect grid for a children’s performer.

You are originally from L.A., but moved to nyc in 1980 where you reside now. For posterity's sake, Id like to take a moment to imagine yourself at home on Thompson St, the year is 1981, and you are walking around the neighborhood. (did they call it SOHO back then?) Can you describe for the readers what you see and hear? Is there anything extraordinary or noteworthy to report?

They did call it SoHo back then, but there was not a whole lot I had to do with it other than passing through on my way to go shopping in Chinatown. When I stepped outside the door of my building on Thompson Street I would see the Empire State Bldg to the north and the Twin Towers to the south….Nothing much was going on in SoHo as I recall. Buildings were being converted to lofts and there were art galleries around. I remember OK Harris because it was owned by a the parents of a kid I knew. I was more interested in music than the art scene. I remember Mills Tavern on Bleecker Street where I played sometimes and hung out with other folk musicians. The owner Charlie Mills was an amazing old guy in a tradition long gone. Bob Dylan used to come into the club for soup and Charlie was always being asked about him by young tourists. His reply was always the same. “Bob Dylan? Dylan? Oh yes, I remember him. He was a cheap cocksucker! Never would give you a nickel. He shouldda dropped a hunnert on me for all I did for him. Yeah, he was a cheap cocksucker!” Charley found ways to get musicians to perform at absolute minimum wage. A lot of very crazy shit went on in that place. There was dope in the bathroom and sometimes even on stage.

On Thompson between Bleecker and Third there was a chicken slaughterhouse. I was too squeamish to check it out, but I knew people who bought their chickens there. The joke was you could name your bird and watch the whole grisly process. Too much for me, but I kinda wished I’d had nerve to visit one time when it closed down.

The Village Gate was right on the corner. I remember going there only once to see Sid Ceasar. Maybe I went another time but I don’t know. Art (the owner) used to stand on the street hawking people to come in.

The Bleecker Street Cinema was going full force when I came here. Also on Bleecker was the Triumph Café and the Village Inn which we called the Village Idiot. And on the corner of 6th Avenue and Bleecker was the Pioneer Market with tiny shopping carts to fit their tiny aisles. Across the street on 6th Avenue was Jack and Jill Doughnuts which even in 1981 was from another era. It featured an atmosphere from the 1940’s and waitresses who always had time to talk with you.

There were social clubs on Sullivan, mysterious places to me, with guys who looked like gangsters even if they weren’t.

Did you have a defining moment while living in your neighborhood that finally had you feeling as if you belonged, that this is your home?

My first several years in New York were confined to the West Village, not all the time, but a whole lot of it. The part of Thompson where I lived was decidedly NoHo, that block just before Houston. What really kept me in my immediate area was when Children’s Energy Center opened just a few doors down from me. (It’s now Lupo, the restaurant) I needed work, so I went and told them no degree in nursery education but I had experience working in nursery schools since I was 9 years old. The director was impressed and hired me as an assistant teacher. Before that I had been singing some at Folk City and quite a lot at Washington Square Park. My first job singing for children and not being called a teacher was at Thompson park in SoHo when they had a playgroup in back of what now is the swimming pool.

You've been in nyc for three decades now, is there one decade you prefer? And why?

Hands down, this 21st Century is my favorite decade. I met Eva, who is now my wife, in 1999 and together we have formed a unit that is unprecedented in my life. Perhaps it has something to do with the unusual combination of me serenading toddlers and her being the educational director of the Merchant’s House Museum on East 4th Street. Whatever it is, we have a very harmonious existence I the tiny apartment, the same one I moved into in 1980. Also, this has been the decade when I have started collecting the kind of recognition as an artist that I was seeking when I moved to New York. I “teach” classes at 5 preschools in the Village on a weekly basis. Also, I work for the New York Public Library which sends me to do library programs all over Manhattan, the Bronx and Staten Island. I give concerts for children who are Pre-K through 1st Grade in public schools and I also entertain at some birthday parties.

You can catch Ivan this month and next, playing free shows at a number of NYPL's in Manhattan and the Bronx.

(and NYTimes stop copying me. When I documented who was riding on the train, you had to go document who was riding the train. When NYC The Blog went to the Department of Labor on 125th St to file a story, you had to go to the DoL to file a story. My next story will be about publicly listed phone numbers of well known ny'ers, so that will probably be in the Times next week too.)

No Fucking Future

I haven't felt old a show for a while, probably since I lived in Salt Lake City and used to see bands play Kilby Court. I felt kind of old last night, but not too old.

I saw Los Campesinos! and Titus Andronicus last night at the Bowery Ballroom. Both of these acts (especially Los Campesinos) are two kinds of bands you can get regularly shit on for liking around here, even though nobody blinked an eye when I wrote without a trace of irony about the genius of Leona Lewis. One of the reasons people shit on Los Campesinos is because the have, like, seven people in their band. The more the merrier, no? Somehow, taste in music works like this. It's also worth noting that these are the kinds of bands that *actual* critics regularly shit on (yet, somehow, are immune to whatever trappings bands like these have to get critics to hate them).

I probably shouldn't mention that Titus Andronicus - as it was their last show of the tour - closed their set by covering Green Day's Worst Song, "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" with the Campesinos' violinist, because you might think it was intentionally ironic, or totally sincere (and thus: ironic in context). There's no way I could reasonably articulate the fact that it was justified, and smart, and rightly done, so I won't. But it was nice.

I kept on my toes. And I did some screaming, which, you know, I forgot how much fun that is. They're both kinda scream-y bands. Anyway, I didn't think anybody had anything interesting to say about relationships after I listened to The National for most of last year, and then stopped listening to music all together for a few months, and then I stopped listening to everything. Anyway, this song made me feel better, as nihilist art often strangely does for some of us.

Los Campesinos!, We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed