Williamsburg Is Dead
It has recently come to my attention that there is a blog with this very title. I have not taken the time to check it out extensively, but this snappy passage certainly piqued my interest:
Depending on how long you’ve lived here, the number of times you’ve had the following experience might vary: Walking along a familiar street, a block you walk a few times a week even, something jars you. The distribution of storefronts, pedestrians, and apartment stoops is just off. Maybe you stop, investigate. And then, there it is. Some new restaurant or store or bar where literally, you swear to yourself, there was nothing there three fucking days ago. Maybe you curse aloud, quietly, (really just barely a whisper, under my breath) if you’re like me, or maybe you symbolize your internal discontent with an exaggerated head shaking. Or you just frown briefly. And why? What did this plasma-screen laden sports bar ever do to you? Or that desperately-wanting-to-be trendy “club” that should make its way back to Soho where it belongs? Or that second dessert shop to open in a month? Which offenses, exactly, are they guilty of? I’ll tell you.
And he (or she) does.
Whatever “artistic marrow” the ‘Burg once had has long since been sucked dry or forced to move further afield. I mention this because yesterday I discovered one of the most inspired bits of chicanery I have seen in a LONG TIME on Montrose just east of Bushwick Avenue.
I initially thought by “pigs” the maker of this sign meant the police.
Upon closer inspection I realized he/she was referencing whole different breed of pig: people who leave their doggie dumplings on the sidewalk. And judging from what I saw during my jaunt in “East Williamsburg” I’d hazard to guess there are a great number of people who engage in this practice. Those of you who have a strong stomach (and nothing better to do) should check out Humboldt Street between Montrose Avenue and Meserole Street. It’s a fucking minefield.