Rainforest Hike, Chiriqui Province, Panama. 8.10.08
Opening two minutes of the Local Natives set from Friday night. The sound quality is horrid, but you can stream their new album here anyway. If this band could play a set this good in my living room, I’m sure they’ll be brilliant at the Bowery on November 17. See. You. There.
video by @heyjoco
Nice coincidental pairing by AM New York today (PDF here, p.4): depicting Bernie William’s ceremonial pitch last night adjacent surname-omitting header for Bernie (Madoff) friend’s suspicious death.
If you live in north Brooklyn, you’ve seen this man driving around on sunny afternoon blaring oldies from his car stereo: windows down, sunglasses on, head thrown back. Belting out songs and driving in circles, sometimes for hours at a time.
My neighbor, Clinton, tracked him down and interviewed him. A fascinating video that gets exceptionally good around 4:45, where he asks the “young people” to “take care of his neighborhood.”
“Don’t forget that you’re in Brooklyn, and Brooklyn was always a different part of the United States from anyplace else. It was always a unique part of the country and of the city, and I’d like to see it be kept that way.” -Anthony Delia
"What We See Is What We Think" by Wallace Stevens
At twelve, the disintegration of afternoon
Began, the return to phantomerai, if not
To phantoms. Till then, it had been the other way:
One imagined the violet trees but the trees stood green,
At twelve, as green as ever they would be.
The sky was blue beyond the vaultiest phrase.
Twelve meant as much as the end of normal time,
Straight up, as elan without harrowing,
The imprescriptable zenith, free of harangue.
Twelve and the first gray second after, a kind
Of violet gray, a green violet, a thread
To weave a shadow’s leg or sleeve, a scrawl
On the pedestal, an ambitious page dog-eared
At the upper right a pyramid with one side
Like a spectral cut in its perception, a tilt
And its tawny caricature and tawny life,
Another thought, the paramount ado …
Since what we think is never what we see.
from The Auroras of Autumn, 1951.
Henry Miller’s Childhood Home. Driggs Avenue, Brooklyn, NY. 10.22.09 Brooklyn
Be afraid.
“Inspired by the early 1900’s German Theatre movement of the same name” just made me laugh so hard.
See you there.
Balloon Family's Bubble is Burst 
The analysis that happens about a minute fifteen into this here video isn’t wrong, necessarily. It’s just infuriating that it’s coming from an ABC News reporter. It’s bad enough that someone working in TV news might be smugly mocking the Hennes’ media manipulation, given that it worked, and the person duped is the person trying to pretend like the hoax failed…. But the really unforgivable thing is that he’s presenting as pathetic the fact that the guy was on Wife Swap twice and wanted to get on TV again. Dude! First off, you’re on TV, so STFU. But more to the point, Wife Swap is on your fucking network, so it was the people you work for that put a crazy guy on TV twice specifically because he was crazy, and then those exact same people let you get on TV, on the same channel, and act like it was surprising or weird or sad that the crazy guy would try and get on TV again…
…the rest, here.
![Fluke Sashimi, Peppercress, Baby Tatsoi, Tea-Stewed Egg. Brooklyn, NY 10.16.09 [photo by Cathy Erway]](http://19.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_krq9a04XNk1qz7arro1_500.jpg)
Fluke Sashimi, Peppercress, Baby Tatsoi, Tea-Stewed Egg. Brooklyn, NY 10.16.09 [photo by Cathy Erway]
Mapocho River, Santiago, Chile. 1.24.05
We're collaborating with Brooklyn Vegan on a show this Friday...
…send me an email if you’d like to come by.
Mike Lee’s footage from Saturday night.
The two of us served five courses for 18 people, starting from scratch at 2pm (six hours before guests arrived), having not seen each other since June, with only a vague menu and a few groceries on hand. Nick got our provisions and ran the bar until the wee hours.
Everything went smoothly, even the last minute substitutions. When you warn people the nutmeg polenta’s gonna take too long and that you’re swapping in whipped fingerlings in lobster butter, their faces just glow.
Prepping furiously, Mike and I shared stories from the summer. Please visit the Studiofeast site to see his amazing one-man show in similarly sped-up footage: 11 courses two nights in a row in Chi-ca-go.
