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Category Archive for 'Crime'

One of America’s greatest public historians, Philip Dray has been in some unusual places but none more unusual than this: seated in an orange dinghy just launched from the Bay Ridge shore and headed for… the wine dark sea? For Staten Island? “No, no, no” the oarsman, Brian Berger, assures me. “Fort Lafayette!” All I saw […]

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MANY STORIES TOLD OF GIRLS DRUGGED, AS WAS MRS. GRAFF Anti-Vice Societies, However, Have Been Unable to Sub- stantiate the Tales APPARENTLY WELL FOUNDED “Dope” Put In Soda Water at Fount- ains and Girls Stabbed With Needles at Movies Point was given today, to the remarkable story of the arrest of Armand Megaro, charged by […]

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I don’t think Faulkner is worth the antebellum South, and I would rather not have had Kafka at the proce of twentieth-century European carnage. But in trying to locate contemporary American writing I look at the thirties, that supposedly meager decade if misfired artistic energy and of duped intellectuals and bad proletarian novels, and I […]

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“There is nothing that ever happens to a woman or a man that he or she doesn’t cause to happen, whether it’s on a mystical level or whether it’s on a spiritual level or whether it’s on a human level.” “What is good, bad, right and wrong? There are only 1 through 9 numbers. There […]

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Ignorant of the ways of publicity and chance alike, I’m unsure how these things happen but HiLoBrow.com has just been named by Time magazine’s Best Blogs of the Year . I could make up some things but not that! We’ve been meaning to catch up with WWIB’s  recently elusive publisher, Brian Berger, who doesn’t answer the phone, […]

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There was once a very sad and impressionable man who lived in a shabby apartment in a desolate section of Queens. Grady was his name, and it had been quite a long time since anything had gone right for him. Eight months earlier, he’d been fired from his job at the pencil factory. It wasn’t […]

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Hi. My name if Rutherford B. Trace, and I’m the new editor of this weblog. I beg pardon from the ongoing series Frederick Douglass In Brooklyn, which I will soon continue, to implore, beseech, encourage and even— in some cases— command all ya’ll who can get near Grand Army Plaza Tuesday June 1 to see the Internets […]

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I first saw Mr. Lincoln in the early summer of 1863. I had a special object in seeing him at that time. I had been engaged in raising two regiments of colored men in Massachussetts, the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth. Two of my sons were in those regiments. Jefferson Davis had taken notice of these colored […]

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FRI. 28— Yesterday and today went to school; sat in on interesting lectures by Wm. Troy, Shapiro, et al; had talks with Holmes, Allen, and Geo. Bouwman at his home in Brooklyn; a few beers on the antique Brooklyn waterfront, Spanish whores, etc; saw Ruth Sloane; get Muriel and battled around two days with her, a […]

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Yugoslav Steward knocks on my door, says “You stay on the ship? Okay?” and goes off into Brooklyn to get drunk with the crew— Alyce and I are waking up, at one A.M., arm in arm in a dreadsome ship, agh— Only one watchman alone on the walk— Everybody drinking in bars of New York. […]

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