A sad update from the already terrible story of a cyclist killed in an apparent hit-and-run under the BQE early Monday morning, as Greepointers reports that the victim was 32-year-old Christopher Meyer, an avid cyclist and longtime local record store fixture, first at Sound Fix and more recently at Permanent Records.
Yesterday, a new poll by Gallup revealed that 58% of Americans are now in favor of legalizing marijuana. Popular opinion on the recreational drug has grown more favorable over the last decade, but this is still somewhat of a turning point, since for the first time the majority of the country wants to see pot legalized.
So it's not that we expect safe and predictable things from American Apparel. After all, this is a company that courts controversy in everything from its advertising
The NY Times blog City Room posted today about a new show airing on French airwaves soon: "Brooklyn Taxi." Though their headline would've been better if it had read: "Exported to France, a Sitcom Set in Brooklyn."
"Brooklyn Taxi" stars Grey's Anatomy star Chyler Leigh and Jacky Ido (who appeared in Inglorious Basterds) as an odd-cop duo in Brooklyn's fictional 125th precinct. Well, Ido's character isn't actually a cop, only Leigh's capable driver. Leigh, who's the "laughingstock" of her precinct because of her notoriously bad driving, hires Ido to zip around the borough. Is this what French TV producers find funny?
You've probably heard by now, but millennials are a generation of entitled whiners who don't understand that it's historically been hard for every generation to make a living and there's nothing special about millennials' struggles and just because past generations didn't have to deal with crippling, impossible to get rid of student loan debts, and didn't live in a time with intractable wage stagnation and hiring freezes and stratospheric housing costs, doesn't mean that there's a single damn thing for millennials to complain about. God, can't they just suck it up and move on with their lives? And if they can't move on with their lives independently, can't they just suck it up and move back in with their parents and then they can save money and then everything will be fine and the world is really not a bad place if you're not a fucking whiny loser millennial.
A Wall Street Journal piece titled "Hiring Millennials? Meet the Parents" is full of other semi-embarrassing tidbits, revealing how, in hopes of grabbing talented young hires, companies are indulging millennials' weakness for their moms and dads. There are regularly scheduled open houses at offices so Mom can finally put a face to the boss who's been giving them a hard time about being late to work. There are managers who send notes home to parents, letting them know their precious, budding intern has achieved their sales goals. There are even home visits to negotiate salaries within the comfort of family rooms and allow prospective employees to be guided by the legend who once—tell us again, Dad!—whittled the price down for his used Camry by half.
If anyone needs to be defended, it's probably rich, 22-year-old New Yorkers who can afford to buy their own apartments, right? Well, no. Probably not. And yet, here I am, about to defend a young woman who considers it "normal" that upon graduating from college, she has $50,000 in her bank account, no reported student loan debt, and is the brand new owner of a one-bedroom apartment in Greenwich Village. So why am I defending her? Well, because besides being a property owner, this woman is also the kind of woman who people feel comfortable cursing out in a very public way before, jokingly, calling for for her head as if she was a member of the French aristocracy and it was 1789. This...seems a little extreme?
Not only does East River State Park have spectacular views of Manhattan, but it also plays host to Smorgasburg every Saturday. This seven acre park was once an industrial shipping dock, and you can still see remnants of old railroad tracks embedded into concrete.
Before the Wythe Hotel, there weren't many options for visitors to spend the night in the better borough. Originally a factory on the waterfront, the building was renovated in 2012 and converted to a 70 room hotel. Much of the furniture was made from wood salvaged during the renovation, and those rustic details blend beautifully with white linens.
Once inside the Wythe's front door, take the elevator up to The Ides Bar for a happening scene and a terrace with panoramic views. When the sun sets, all the details stand out, from the marble-topped bar and tables to the little candles that make the room glow. Early evening is a perfect time to photograph here, and you can catch the sunset before the crowds take over.
The abandoned Domino Sugar Refinery is a favorite spot for adventurous photographers. Once the largest sugar refinery in the world, the complex is set to become a mixed-use residential and commercial development in the near future. If you can find a way inside, you'll be among the last to see the old factory floors coated in sticky sugar byproducts, abandoned offices and locker rooms.
A small but widely renowned shop, the Bedford Cheese Shop is the perfect backdrop for a photo shoot aimed at emphasizing Williamsburg's artisanal retailers. Located in the heart of Williamsburg on Bedford Ave, the storefront epitomizes the charming neighborhood feeling that makes some parts of Williamsburg feel like Paris.
Sometimes the most photogenic locations are simply little nondescript places like this auto repair shop on the corner of Kent Ave and Grand Street. The bright blue doors stand out against the distressed brick facade and the white molding. Inside, if you look closely, you can see a vintage Rolls Royce being repaired in the shop. We can't guarantee that if you pass by, you'll see the same car in the garage, but you never know what kind of surprises await.
This wouldn't be a proper Williamsburg guide if it didn't include at lease one beautiful restaurant, and Juliette on N 5th fits the bill perfectly. The interior has a very Parisian charm, with bistro tables, a zinc bar and lots of French details, right down to the bottles of wine and liquors lining the shelves. A covered garden room is filled with hanging plants and lit by a skylight. Upstairs, the roof deck is another great spot for photographing.
To start your afternoon off on a horribly bizarre and sad note, a story in Tuesday's New York Times profiled a young Indian family whose son Rahul has caught on fire—allegedly unprovoked and without a known cause—four times in his three short months. “We are in a dilemma and haven’t come to any conclusion [as to the cause],” Dr. Narayan Babu, the head of pediatrics at Kilpauk Medical Hospital, where Rahul has been admitted, told the Times.
In what seems like a sensationalized headline ripped from The National Enquirer, some hypothesize the doctors have a case of spontaneous human combustion on their hands. While it's commonly accepted among medical experts that such a condition doesn't exist, the theory has picked up some support in recent years. The Times points to an Irish coroner, who, in 2011, listed SHC as the cause of death of a 76-year-old man found charred with no apparent source of a fire anywhere near the body. With Rahul's tests leading to no other conclusions, at least not physiological ones, some doctors are starting to reconsider SHC's validity.
If you're single and hating it, leave it to your friends at The L to help. We've teamed up with the minds behind HowAboutWe to create Brooklyn Dating, a service that will (hopefully) help change online dating and find you the Brooklynite of your dreams. If you're trying to go on some dates, instead of spending all of your valuable time filling out compatibility tests, just go on some dates. We know this sounds scary, but we make it easy. Just visit Brooklyn Dating, pick the outing that sounds the most interesting to you (or come up with one of your own), make an account (if you haven't already), and go! Just go.
Every week, we'll post three of our favorite Brooklyn dates to aid you in your search for a soulmate. So get off your laptop, (or your iPad or iPhone or iPod or whatever) and go fall in love. Click here to get started, and you can find the three best Brooklyn dates of the week after the jump.
The Daily News reported earlier today that the Brooklyn Community Support Art + Design debuted New York City's first subscription service for artwork. Inspired by the Community Supported Agriculture model, members can pay into two tiers of payment for their distributions: $250 for three pieces per season, and $500 for six. Artists are paid $3,000 for every 50 pieces submitted.
The thing about award shows is that they're all horrible. All of them. Every single award show is horrible. Which, I think, is why we watch them. We want to see rambling, incoherent speeches. We like awkward banter that allows us to feel superior in our own wit that's probably never been tested in front of an audience of millions. We get excited about the clothes that attendees are wearing, knowing that the shorts with the hole in the butt that we wear to walk our dog will never be analyzed by millions of at-home viewers. Award shows are horrible because we are horrible. But that's ok! We're human. We need to find some way to entertain ourselves before we die, right? Right. And this coming Sunday, we can do that by watching the MTV Video Music Awards, live in Brooklyn. But how ever should we entertain ourselves in the meantime? Well, why don't we take a look back at ten of the most cringe-worthy moments of VMA past. Prepare to feel so uncomfortable that rushing toward doom doesn't seem so bad after all.
An anonymous poster on WallStreetOasis.com—where comment boards often discuss the high demands of banking internships—claimed Moritz "went home at 6am three days in a row.” Speaking with London newspaper the Evening Standard in 2011, a student referred to this as "the Magic Roundabout," that is, "when you get a taxi to drive you home at 7am and then it waits for you while you shower and change and then takes you back to the office," they explained. "[It's] every intern’s worst nightmare." According to The Independent, a former investment banker confirmed that it's not unusual for interns in the industry to work 14-hour days. Moritz' internship was apparently paid in this case, for whatever ethical morsel that may be worth. According to the The Independent, BAML (Bank of America Merrill Lynch) banking interns typically earn £2,700, or a little more than $3600, per month.
Yesterday, as you might've heard, the world was introduced to a new species of carnivorous mammal called the olinguito. Then, we, the human population, suffered a cute attack. Olinguitos are tiny, their faces looks like teddy bears', their name rhymes with "mojito." They eat a lot of figs. They're practically a figment of Lisa Frank's imagination, living in the clouds (technically, "cloud forests"), adorably shy and misunderstood until Smithsonian researcher Kristofer Helgen realized we had been confusing their close relatives, the olingos, as little olinguitos all this time. Our bad.
"It looks kind of like a fuzzball," Helgen said. Hopefully, we made it up to the olinguito yesterday as Twitter produced at least five parody accounts almost instantly (this one's my favorite) while the rest of the Internet responded to a fruit-loving teddy bear-fuzzball dwelling high in the trees and tolerating a case of mistaken identity as only it can. Allow the Internet to paint us a picture, ignoring for a moment those horribly sinister-looking claws:
Ten years ago, the New York Times published an article on the phenomenon of women "opting-out." Meaning pretty much what you'd guess from its name, the opt-out movement consisted of women who had stable and lucrative careers, but decided to leave their jobs and stay home to raise their families. Much was made of this movement because it seemed to fly directly in the face of everything that women had worked for professionally over the prior few decades. Everyone wondered, would this be the start of a new era? Would more and more women forego career fulfillment so that they could transform into a new generation of Betty Draper clones, only this time outfitted in Lululemon yoga pants and Nike Frees instead of jodhpurs and riding boots? (Which, side note, but when you pit yoga pants against jodhpurs, yoga pants always lose.) What would become of all these women who didn't want to rule the world and instead wanted only to stay home with their children? Would everything turn out just perfect for them and their families? It would, right? Everything's fine, isn't it? Ha. Of course not. Nothing is fine—obviously—or there wouldn't be a story.
Amidst a steady stream of passing cars, bikes and leisurely foot traffic, there's a constant murmur of reporters starting to run out of things to say. I picked the hour that my gut said would see the birth of a Prince or Princess and spent it watching the live stream unfold since you probably have a real job and wouldn't be able to...
Too fast, too furious? lol
If this piece was supposed to have humor, I missed something. It's a damn Pixar…
Hey thoughtful article but you sure dug deep to get this out of it.. My…