What’s with hue? 
Is it some kind of color politics statement?
Bathroom vent in Chelsea
What’s with Hue?
Tag Archives: New York City
My Bloody Valentine Play New York’s Hammerstein Ballroom
My Bloody Valentine are, as Rolling Stone Magazine says, committed to distortion; they deliver a wall of sound and light, and turn that around on itself.
My Bloody Valentine plays Hammerstein Ballroom on November 11
They take turns singing, or seeming to sing; there are no intelligible words, just murmuring beneath the din. 
The sound builds, seems to get louder – although nothing like their 2008 tour – pauses and starts again, a certain blissed-out monotony, chaotic but not, that wears everything down, until it’s just one long thing, only stopping to breath, all of this until the last song, You Made Me Realise. 
This final, drawn-out moment goes straight in, vibrates against the organs and veins and fights your heart rate until you feel like you’ve been initiated into a murderous cult. 
And then they leave, and that’s that.
Waiting (from “All In”)
I’ll be standing there thinking I’m faking it, just staring ahead, and I’ll feel like I’m just pretending, waiting for someone to rush to me, the poor lonely kid with no one to love. 
I feel like that when I’m doing anything, eating, walking, crying, anything, and I’ll think that when I’m dying too. 
That’s how I am.*
(From “All In”.)
New York City: Electing a Mayor
As I understand it, there are two distinct choices in today’s New York City mayoral election. It’s either this: 
Or this:
Whoever it is, I expect it will be better than this:
Toronto Mayor Rob Ford finally admits, “Yes, I have smoked crack cocaine…probably in one of my drunken stupors.”
Banksy’s Message?
Banksy’s New York residency has been a frenzied thing.
His works are thronged by an adoring mob one moment and then defaced by angry individuals the next.
Jay and Staple Street. Wednesday, October 15
Jay and Staples Street, Friday, October 17
Jay and Staples Street, Tuesday, October 22
It’s an ugly circus, funny and not, conveying something we already knew: The city is full of idiots.
The Generators: Excerpt from “The Ark”
From the opening chapter of The Ark, Dee takes Apollo out for a walk after Hurricane Sandy:
I took Apollo out toward Broadway. A threatening row of generators, inert grey metal boxes the size of trucks, lined the streets, steel bars and locks, red electric bolts along the rusted edges, thick cables and tubes clumped out across the sidewalk, into doorways, droning fierce metal on metal. 
A misery came into me, a weighty nothing, the tininess in my head gone. I was worthless. I knew that. It wasn’t just death, the meaningless of that, my stupid realization of my impending deterioration, but the clear pathetic thud of utter meaninglessness. 
It was this street, this fleeting attempt against the waters taking everything back, the cables and machines, the buildings and walls, huddled in the sharp early light, waiting for the inevitable next. 
Apollo pulled hard to the garbage truck and pissed.
Oh! Oh! Banksy! Banksy!
The latest Bansky frenzy gathered on 24th Street in Chelsea’s Gallery District. 
Not even NY1 could get through the crowds. 
Things are calmer back on Staples Street now. 
Where the Banksy is now under glass.
Dialogue around the Staples Street Banksy
Workmen arrived at the corner of Staples and Jay Street in Tribeca to box up the Banksy. 
“Thank god you guys got to it first,” a Banksy enthusiast remarked,
The workman measured the width of the piece. “Oh, they’ll get at it, if they want to.” 
“At least you’ll slow them down.”
“You can never stop evil.”
A Tribecian passed by with his Golden Labrador and blurted out sarcastically, “Oh, my god, it’s art!” 
The Banksy enthusiasts looked back, a little miffed, but shrugged it off. They continued to watch the workman drill holes around the Banksy work.
“Did you know that you can’t see an original piece of art anymore?” One said a little loudly over the sound of the drill. “You know how many times they’ve painted over the Mona Lisa?”
Having tried to take her pictures for some time around the workmen, a Banksy admirer finally gave up and confessed to her boyfriend. “All I got was a picture of that guy’s ass.”
A young family squeezed behind, carrying three large wooden crates of apples. “You’re pulling me,” one of the young sisters complained to the other.
Oh Banksy!
Bansky is in New York. 
Here’s a map of what he’s done so far. Some worship him.
Others not so much. 
Whatever anyone thinks, he’ll be hyping it up in the city for another two weeks. I’m just hoping to catch Sirens of the Lambs. 
Although it might be hard to find.
Enduring Racism
I went to a concert last night in Brooklyn where everyone attending was white and everyone serving was black.
Nine Inch Nails, Barclay’s Center
I took the subway home. 
I walked a few blocks. 
And thought about that some more.