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Category Archive for 'East New York'

“Come on. Big village. Be quick. Bring pack. P.S. Bring pacs.” — Lt. Col. George A. Custer, June 25, 1876   Visit Cypress Hills National Cemetery

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Joe was reeling himself. He stuck his head in a bucket of water and cleaned up the cabin and threw the bottles overboard and started working on the claxon regularly. To hell with ‘em, he kept saying to himself, he wouldn’t be a plaster saint for anybody. He was feeling fine, he had something more […]

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My appointment was for the evening. Dreiser, who is finishing a book, “An American Tragedy,” in a specially rented New York office, lives in Brooklyn, which is also the base of my visits to Gotham. Accordingly, I show up at this place, ready for the regular chat about books and people. Drawing up alongside the […]

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Yes, many’s the night I attended a recital in one of these hallowed musical morgues and each time I walked out I thought not of the music I had heard but of one of my foundlings, one of the bleeding cosmococcic crew I had hired or fired that day and the memory of whom neither […]

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When I was child, Brownsville existed in a large enclave, the outer borders of which I was only dimly aware. Surrounded by the Negro violence of the Bedford-Stuyvesant district, the Nazi “gemutchlichkeit” of Ridgewood, the Slavic solemnity of East New York, the middle-class gentility of East Flatbush and the garbage dumps of Canarsie, Brownsville was […]

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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 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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Wanna meet the Chef? The good folks at Basement Mix records, 329 Crescent Street in East New York, are hosting hip-hop’s man of the hour today from 4 to 6 pm. Be there, especially if you know the neighborhood as City Line (which it also is)  and hell, make Raekown American music’s man of the […]

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Sean Price has the nicest feet but will DJ Coconutter be kicking the joints that prove it? Or, instead of climbing aboard the WWIB float to work the 1s and 2s will she passed out hardbody after one, and now two long days of swimming in a sea of cold suds? I hope girl has […]

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Flash! Flowers. Candles. Bikinis. Thongs. Glitter. Poetry. The WWIB West Indian Day Parade float has them all and more— especially spondees, candles and flash. A funny thing happened on the way to botanica row on Rutland Road yesterday. DJ Coconutter stopped in for a drink at the Keg Lounge on East New York Avenue and […]

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