Filed under: Long Island City
From 21st Street.
A giant inflatable dog turd by American artist Paul McCarthy blew away from an exhibition in the garden of a Swiss museum, bringing down a power line and breaking a greenhouse window before it landed again, the museum said Monday.
The art work, titled “Complex S(expletive..)”, is the size of a house. The wind carried it 200 metres (yards) from the Paul Klee Centre in Berne before it fell back to Earth in the grounds of a children’s home*, said museum director Juri Steiner. — Yahoo Canada
I knew there was a reason I liked Paul McCarthy so much in graduate school. I’d pay top dollar to see an encore performance at Carroll Park.
*Thanks for passing this along Flatbush “Big Shit Meet Little Shits” Gardener!
Photo Credit: Applelogen.be
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Very true. But a little compensation is always welcome.
Is it just me or has summer truly arrived here in New York Shitty? Sure the calender indicates this season arrived back in June and our weather has been unseasonably cool and wet— but I am not one to trifle with empirical data. I leave the crunching of dates and statistics to the experts.
Rather, I am talking about anger. Lots of it. The later the sun sets, the more surly people get. In the last week alone I have seen two people ripping someone a new asshole on Manhattan Avenue. The fact that the objects of their respective ire were not visible to the naked eye is immaterial. We New Yorkers undergo a transformation in summer. It’s not necessarily a pretty one either. Thankfully the city has seen fit to provide us with an ample amount of advertising to take the edge off.
Case In Point: The Visiting Nurse Service of New York
I am of the understanding that there is a lot of money to be made in advertising. Or at the very least a lot of money is spent on it. One would think that during their “focus group” session someone at this ad agency would have had the presence of mind to point out that thought-provoking, “worst case scenario” missives are lost on G train patrons.
Waiting for long periods of time at sewage stench-laden stations to ride what was recently deemed the filthiest subway line in the city predisposes one towards a certain kind of existentialist cynicism.
As does being forced to look at the 21st century’s solution to Jocelyn Wildenstein.
No sir, Ms. Dickinson’s heavily air brushed bod doesn’t sweeten the pot one bit.
What’s more, reminders that some of us might stand to lose a pound or two only pisses us off.
I quite aware that advertising sees fit to capitalize off the viewer’s vanity/insecurity. (That’s the only reason I can think of why someone has seen fit to market hair dye for pubic hair, anyway.) When one rides the G train such frippery goes straight out the window. Who cares about looking good (or having dignity for that matter) when he (or she) is doing his (or her) best not to throw up?
Think about it.
UPDATE: It looks like the folks at 23rd – Ely aren’t too big on Ms. Dickinson either.
P.S.: If any advertising/product placement wizards are reading this, give Greenpoint more Dexter posters. We seem to like those.
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
After serving up free samples of soup last year and months of inactivity, something appears to be happening at 1013 Manhattan Avenue. Will Ichiran be opening for business soon? If so, will it be a ramen shop? I do not know. But this storefront has been open the last three days and signs of human activity have been noted. (Hell, they’ve even been checking their mail!)
Maybe they got wind of Sakura 6?
UPDATE: Check out this post on Williamsburg Is Dead. It looks like Ichiran will be gracing us with its presence. And soon!
Filed under: Williamsburg
While not on par with the “Jack Heights” advertising campaign, I thought this one (for 72 Steuben) was equally misguided. These have been popping up all over Williamsburg of late.
As it would happen I have been to Clinton Hill recently. It did not strike me as being the kind of place twenty-somethings who boost Colt 45 from bodegas and have a disquieting likeness to Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver* would call home.** There are too many people wearing sensible shoes and pushing strollers in Clinton Hill. I imagine their selection of malt liquor ain’t so hot either. Just a thought.
*Pre-rehab Britney Spears or a “before” picture from Faces of Meth —take your pick.
**This is a compliment.
Today I have made two efforts to get out of the house and take a walk. Both times I found myself hauling my ass back home in the rain. I guess it is just not in the cards for me to go out today.
To alleviate my boredom I have tried— really tried— to spend my time productively. Over the last hour IÂ have fired up the dishwasher, bagged recyclables and even made preparations to vacuum the floor. The bugger is being productive is dull as dishwater. What’s more, I had a creative itch to scratch. Not wanting to bother cleaning this up so I would have a work surface, I decided to venture around the block. It didn’t take long for me to find inspiration.
This piece is entitled “Orphans”.
When I got done I noticed I had an extra leg, so I said “What the hell?”. Waste not, want not.
Surprisingly enough, it didn’t take much time for my petit opus to garner attention. This man not only stopped and looked at it, but he also took several photographs of it with his cell phone.
Back to bagging up trash.
From Nassau Avenue.
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
One can expect a great many things when he (or she) walks by our local sewage treatment plant: men busy at work, garbage, STENCH just to name a few. Now you can throw in photographs from someone’s birthday party. Here they are.
Our protagonist got a new belt…
and a new book. The year inscribed on the back of this photograph is 1971. That might explain the suit to the far left. I wonder when this will come back in style?
The 1970′s were much kinder to women. Her top looks like something one would find today. Mod is back in style.
All in all, it was rather strange to find scenes of domestic happiness strewn along such a desolate stretch of road. One cannot help but think about where this person is now. In any case, I couldn’t get these images off my mind. Hence why I felt like sharing them this Monday morning. Very odd indeed!
visit your great grandparents…
have some supper and ask them,
really ask them how they are…
From Bushwick Avenue.