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Monthly Archive for September, 2008

by Zincsmith Billiard, Sports Editor. All that basbeball nonsense about going yard? This is how the street kids do it tho’ why I was here, precisely, is a tale for another time. For now let’s just say, ecstatic as I am the Mets blew it (not-quite-instant karma for raping the public coffers but fuck all […]

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Junius Van Sinderen, he’s a winner too: Not flaxen, not wool gathering & surely not waiting one cotton pickin’ minute longer to give ya’ll the Brooklyn historic scoop, I’d like to draw  folks’ attention to the latest review of Philip Dray’s Capitol Men because wow, it’s a “doozy” as Herodotus might have said, if only […]

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by Beadel Debevoise. Just a quick head’s up on a couple recent titles that should interest  many  readers. First, straight out of Adelaide via London comes Peter Bishop‘s Bridge (no relation to Hart Crane), a meditation on the architecture & social meaning of said objects which features a couple color photographs by none other than […]

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OR, EAST NEW YORK TEST MATCH by Caz Dolowicz. Let’s keep this light, or at least not swerve unto our real feeling about Yankee Stadium (fuck it), George or Hank Steinbrenner (fuck them) or Rudy Giuliani, Mike Bloomberg and most of the City Council— fuck all ya’ll, hard, & without satisfying release for giving away […]

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OR, THE JOCK STRAP MAFIA New York has become a public meat market— and not soley for the sale of veal or bottom round. It is no longer a male dancer’s effiniate play and ploy, what with the prancing, walking and standing homosexuals everywhere in the city. They are in the Village, up Eighth Avenue, […]

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OR, THE PAUL ROBESEON COMPLEX WILL RISE AGAIN The Music Director, Son of Shemp*, explains: It was the mid-1980s & Brooklyn was like Cleveland to some. I grew up on 7th Avenue & 21st St— which not one goddamn person called “Greenwood Heights” then— so I’d already been to Cleveland, man. But like Albert Ayler […]

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OR, CURSED PROGENITORS (2) Besides the Cooles, the cousins and distant cousins, the old aunts and uncles from the old country and the new ones from the borough itself, the old friends and acquaintances, there were others who had come to the wake too, too. Bakers, caddies, cops, private eyes, insurance brokers, gamblers, bookies, priests, […]

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OR, A MAN NEEDS HIS HAT for Susan Tyrell & Curtis Cokes Caz Dolowicz has been there, man. They say it dates back to Lene Lenape times before there was a Brooklyn & before Kings County too. No Fort Hamilton, no Floyd Bennett, no two-fare zones, no factories; there was a St. Finbar (Feastday September […]

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OR, THE TRENCH COAT PUNK EPISODE How’re you gonna figure it? Me, Sammy Hines, once the sharpest, smartest cabbie in New York put out of commission by two young Broadway punks. Taken for a ride in my own hack. I just can’t get over it! A guy like me who’s lived all his life by […]

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Yes, yes, yes everyone makes mistakes & bloggers ain’t an exception (quite the opposite) but ya’ll know that already. What does it say about scholarship, however, when erstwhile “authoritative” sources perpetuate baseless urban legend? Take the case of Buttermilk Channel. According to more than one chronicler & lots of other yokels, the waters between Red […]

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