“Purveys monofloral honey produced by nomadic beekeepers in Sicily”
“The windows are decorated with bird silhouettes — the universal symbol for ‘hipsters welcome’”
“Slice of cosmopolitan bohemia”
“Heritage-clad novelist type”
“[Thirty]-somethings in statement sneakers”
“Formerly boho environs of Brooklyn”
“Hipsturbia” alone gave me a near-aneurysm.
Also, as someone who spent 18 years of his life alternately condemning and romanticizing the New York metro area suburbs, I love how they’re suddenly considered cool enough for a Times trend story because some tattooed dads moved there and — hey, look at that — kinda dig the lifestyle. Tattooed dads have always been a presence in the New York metro area suburbs. Maybe they drink local beer (Blue Point!) and listen to indie rock and follow art blogs. Maybe they drink Bud Light and listen to Billy Joel and follow the Jets. Funny how people from the same place can differ, right?
Today, I explored an abandoned electric factory in my neighborhood, which may or may not have involved trespassing.
“The current policies surrounding teacher evaluation do not improve education. They demoralize teachers, promote teaching to the test, narrow the curriculum, incentivize gaming the system and cheating, and destroy professionalism. They are junk science.”
- My interview with Diane Ravitch ran in NAC this morning. Though conducted via email, I’m mighty proud it.
Found this in a box on the side of the road.
Per the inside cover:
“A wildly self-destructive sixties rock star, a legendary Western gunfighter, and a temperance evangelist encounter one another in the netherworld, where they not only raise a unique form of hell, but also pay a protracted visit to those inner circles of Lucifer. Against a background of contemporary pop icons, megalomaniac Egyptian gods, figures from the voodoo pantheon, prophets of the Old Testament, huge Japanese movie monsters, and low-yield atomic weapons, Jim Morrison, the Lizard King of classic rock, also discovers that life beyond the grave is as much of an exploding psychedelic nightmare as any acid vision of mortal existence.
“Jim Morrison’s Adventures in the Afterlife picks up the story of Morrison as he hurtles through a purgatorylike after-life in search of some way to bring his soul to peace and find the perfect alien martini. Along the way he finds Doc Holliday, and together they find themselves chasing the restless fire-and-brimstone evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson, whose soul has broken after death into two warring halves. McPherson’s sexier half becomes the object of Jim’s obsession, and as the two struggle to find themselves in this disordered land, their wild, careening chase through a dozen dystopiae recalls imagined worlds as diverse as Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange and Terry Gilliam’s movie Brazil.”
Build a national network of independent, local urban news and affairs websites.
2. Is anyone doing something like this now and how is your project different? [30 words]
There are networks like the Streetsblog Network and Investigative News Network…
The nonprofit for which I work, Next American City, is in the running for the Knight News Challenge. A win would sure land us the resources to continue doing what we do. So if you value good, sober reporting on urban policy issues—with a scope ranging from the hyper-local to the international—please take three seconds to like and reblog our application (the top five reblogged orgs automatically become finalists). There aren’t many other media outlets out there reporting on urbanism in quite the way we do, and as topics like sustainability gain ever more prominence, forums like ours can keep the conversation going. So whattya say?
“We Care About New York” — A 1991 PSA by David Lynch calling attention to the causes of NYC’s rodent problem.
The point I’m making is that, since the postwar period, federal transportation policy has been focused on eliminating congestion, and that’s too narrow a goal. The goal ought to be, What adds value to society? What adds value to the economy? If you look at the richest places in America, they’re the most congested.
A 1966 television interview with pianist Bill Evans.
Comment on this Huffington Post article. The specific, vivid details combined with the usual grammatical errors, erratic punctuation and lack of capitalization—all compounded with a completely unbelievable and grotesque story—make this one for the ages. Good job, Internet.
In this silent film, David Denby and Richard Brody critique “The Artist” and the lost art of cinema before sound. Enjoy!
Starring David Denby, Richard Brody, and Richard Brody’s beard.
There’s something daunting about making changes, in any way, to a piece of infrastructure that serves anywhere from 20,000 to over 100,000 vehicles a day. Critics have a right to express understandable concerns about gridlock and economics when planners announce that they want to remove or convert a major thoroughfare in their city.
It’s vital, then, for advocates to hold up examples of where highway removal has worked. The numbers exist to back up claims that the practice can restore a city’s social fabric and facilitate local development, all without severely impacting traffic or commerce. We just need to make sure our neighbors know that.
The reality is that the generations we have designed the suburbs for have grown up to the point where the baby boomers, who were the original babies for the suburbs and are now mostly empty nesters, no longer need minivans to cart kids around. In fact, their households, for the most part, don’t even have kids anymore. And then you have also got an enormous number of Gen Y, folks in their twenties and thirties, whose jobs are out in the suburbs. But they’re frankly looking for some nightlife. They’d like to meet people. They don’t want to just go around in cars everywhere. They are looking for those kinds of walkable neighborhoods where they can socialize.
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I interviewed Ellen Dunham-Jones, co-author of Retrofitting Suburbia. Unsurprisingly, she has some thoughts about how to make sprawling communities more sustainable, and why circumstances would allow this to happen.
Is it Valentine’s Day already? My word! How the time does fly. I might have missed the day entirely had I not caught a glimpse of all the young couples walking hand in hand this evening, filling the tables of every fancy French restaurant in town. And what better way to celebrate this fine holiday than sharing a scrumptious, fixed price, three-course menu with your beloved? Lord knows that’s what I’d be doing tonight if my head hadn’t been severed from my body in the third century!
I’m sorry. I hope all this talk about my gruesome martyrdom doesn’t put you off your moules du jour.
