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Crosstown Local Photo Du Jour: ENOUGH!
Filed under: 11211, 11222, Crosstown Local, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
Not content with sending forth an army of canvassers to troll north Brooklyn on Sunday evenings to hit unsuspecting citizen’s buzzers, spewing forth enough printed material to leave a carbon footprint the size of Texas and— lest we forget— there are the never-ending television commercials; Mayor Mike has taken the good news about his run for a third term to the G train. En Espanol, no less.
For the love of god, make it stop.
Miss Heather
P.S.: The more eagle-eyed among you might recognize where this photograph of Michael Bloomberg being warm and fuzzy with the peasantry was taken. If not, I’ll tell you: Keap Street at South 3rd Street in Williamsburg. This intersection is located not too far from the infamous “Broadway Triangle”. (Insert irony points here.)
Crosstown Local Photo Du Jour: Fulton Street
Filed under: 11222, Asshole, Bloomblight, Brooklyn, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, New York City
This post goes out to the campaign worker who hit my buzzer at 7:00 p.m. this evening and asked me (by my legal name— which indicates she culled it from the voter registration rolls):
Hi, (my legal name) I’m a campaign worker for Michael Bloomberg. Do you plan on voting for him this November?
Me:
No, Thank you.
My buddy at Queens Crap thought I was showing traces of my Texas upbringing: humble hospitality. Hardly. I have made up my mind who I want for mayor…
and it is Montgomery Burns!
I suspect I speak for many of my fellow Greenpointers when I write that I have given up on decent (not exceptional, above average or even average) representation (for our taxation). Many candidates (and the self-appointed pillars of our community who backed them— you know who you are) cloaked themselves in the sanctimonious cloth of reform in the months leading up to the Democratic primary and run-off. And these same people, the reformers, engaged in some of the sleaziest campaign practices, tricks, duplicity, chicanery and outright intimidation I have ever beheld. Probably because they were seeking sinecures— but that’s my humble opinion.
If I stated, for example— and this is totally hypothetical— that the McCarren Park Soccer League’s email list was used to solicit votes David Yassky or Bill DeBlasio I’d be totally out of line. If I stated (once again, for example— hypothetical) that youths 18 years and older in said soccer league were hired to canvass for Evan Thies before the Democratic primary I have no doubt it would net me a nastygram from a lawyer.
But I am not suggesting either of the previous came to pass. I’m just hypothesizing. I have a very active imagination. The pillars of my community have reminded me of this. Often.
James “Jimmy” John Walker, one of our fair city’s more corrupt (if charming, dapper and loquacious) Mayors summed my cynicism when he said:
A reformer is a guy who rides through the sewer in a glass bottom boat.
What does “reform” mean when we are forced to choose among candidates whose records REEK? Candidates who have clearly dipped their tootsies into the sewer of New York City real politik and will promise anything to anyone in order to get elected?
For this reason I am backing Burns. Burns is honest about his corruption. He promises nothing. He does not claim to be a reformer and as such I can anticipate being screwed six ways to Sunday under his regime. In this regard Bloomberg is much more circumspect. The true hallmark of a masochist is the anticipation of punishment. I am not a masochist. It’s a matter of control.
I prefer to take my medicine upfront— and make Mike my bitch.
Miss “Sorry Staten Island, you’re on your own*” Heather
P.S.: For more information about how Montgomery Burns Bloomberg will lead this city into 21st 19th Century click here. Caveat: be ready to laugh your ass off. Who knew plutocracy and political disenfranchisement could be so fun(ny)?
*This is satire.
New York Shitty Day Starter: Change You Can Believe In
Last night the Mister and I entertained a visiting friend in the East Village. One of the stops on our itinerary was the San Loco on Avenue A, as one of my best friends, Rachael, was scheduled to bar tend there. San Loco means “saint crazy” in Spanish; this is rather apropos given Rachael usually works the closing shift and as a result interfaces with— how should I say— the more eccentric elements to be found in the East Village. Whenever we meet up she always has a “goodie bag” of stuff she has collected and many a good story to tell.
This evening was no exception— what’s more I learned about a previously unknown candidate in the Mayoral race: Albert Duffy.
But he prefers to be called the “Bloomberg Bomb”. I think. It’s sort of hard to tell:
As your mayor, I will always protect my constituent’s like all like all N.Y.C. BOROUGH presidents, Council members and LAW MAKER’s. Who all have thier (sic) hands DEEP in my POCKETS. Me and my “bluBillion Dollar Blue Boys “own and control ALBANY and will continue to manipulate, ABUSE and DEMORALIZE every sector of society. Especially the personnel of the FDNY/NYPD. Call me a “Bloomberg BOMB”!…
On the other side of this flier (both of which can be seen in larger format by clicking on the the above or following image) is a tome entitled “If I Were Mayor of New York City”) which outlines Mr. Duffy’s/The New American Freedom Party Are all mentally ill’s platform for reform.
My favorite passages are as follows:
We would organize a committee to amend the Constitution to reward anyone who gives back to our country by joining our military. We would guarantee that if anyone dedicates themselves for the safety and protection of our freedom, and becomes disabled, all their needs will be taken care of. Like free medical/hospitalization, employment training, job placement opportunities, adequate housing and free public transportation.
It would appear that this chap has not heard of the Veteran’s Association. Then again, maybe he has: it’s not like they have gotten much positive publicity of late. As for the matter of public transportation, our mayoral aspirant has some rather interesting ideas on that front:
We would organize a committee to design and construct a (free) Monorail System that will replace the old failing system that we presently depend upon.
And lastly, the coup de grâce:
We would organize a committee to amend smoker’s rights and designate smoking areas in all NYC Irish Pubs, Taverns and Restaurants. (Ed. Note: emphasis mine)Â If you don’t like it? Go outside.
If this sounds like the kind of change you want to see in our fair city come November, dear readers, you should note that Mr. Duffy was thoughtful enough to provide a bank account number for interested donors at the end of his mission statement. The more eagle-eyed among you might have also noticed that this is “Part 1” of his xerographic campaign for mayor. This would suggest there will be a “Part 2” and maybe even a “Part 3”.
I can hardly wait.
Miss Heather
Spotted In Greenpoint: Hipster For Bloomberg
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
During my knockings about north Brooklyn over the years I quickly learned there are certain things that mean nothing but trouble. First and foremost among them is anyone bearing a clip board.
Back in the early 2000’s this was a sure fire indicator of a real estate agent. I clearly recall the summer day I was standing with a few friends on Manhattan Avenue when a gaggle of suit men lead by a woman wearing her best power blazer stopped, pointed at us and— like some hitherto unknown and exotic zoological discovery— identified us to her retinue (bearing clip boards all) as:
the new artistic influx!
The men furiously took notes on their clip boards. I was aghast. Not so much at being identified as such; I probably am just that. What pissed me off was that someone— a self-appointed Jane Goodall or Dian Fosse, if you will— had the temerity to point at another human bring and commenced to give a spiel usually found on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom or in National Geographic. Simply put, it was dehumanizing.
Since things got sour, real estate wise, most of the folks I see bearing clipboards nowadays are IDT agents going about their nefarious business. And today, June 14, I can add a new animal of prey stalking our (not so) mean streets: hipsters canvassing for Bloomberg.
When I saw this young woman (bearing an XOXO handbag and a satchel reading “Bloomberg NYC”) making annotations on her clipboard at the intersection of Lorimer Street and Norman Avenue I simply had to hang around and watch her go about her business. As you can clearly see in the above photograph I was not the only one who took interest in her activities.
It amuses me to no end how hard politicians (for example: my good friend David Yassky and his sidekick Rami Metal, among others) are shilling (or as they would put it: “reaching out”) to 20-something voters. Inasmuch as I bust my born in the 1980’s compatriot’s chops (usually because they are sporting 1980’s fashion without all the horrible memories that go with it), the fact of the matter is they’re not stupid. I suspect I speak for many— be they 20-somethings, 30-somethings, 40-somethings and beyond— when I say the manner in which Mr. Bloomberg secured his run for a third term was one of the most deplorable, under-handed and revolting abuses of the democratic process I have ever seen.
And no amount of canvassing or “coolness” is going to change my opinion. Period.
Miss Heather
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Red Dawn
Filed under: Area 51
It would appear that Staten Island Chuck’s bit(e) of direct action earlier this week has spawned its own clothing line. It is called Viva Chuck, it can be found on Cafepress and I learned of it courtesy of a woman who calls herself Lillet Langtry.*
I like the Che angle but for the sake of Dialectical Materialism I have to confess: I wish his little paw was upraised and brandishing an AK-47. This would appeal more to my petit bourgeois capitalist— soon-to-be Lumpenproletariat— sensibilities. In any case there’s at least one red in Staten Island. Who knew?
Then again it was once written that four legs are indeed better than two. But of course sporting a sharp set of choppers doesn’t hurt!
…No question now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.
— George Orwell
Miss Heather
*Which is a great moniker, by the way!
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