Eliot, Eliot, Eliot

Gothamist's "We Can Haz Spitzer Photoshop" Contest

My goodness, can Eliot Spitzer be more stupid? Hmmm... Don't answer that. I voted for the guy, so what does that say about my judgment? His hamhanded way of getting rid of the reprehensible Joseph Bruno up in Albany was... well, as reprehensible as Bruno himself. Spitzer has built his entire legacy on getting rid of criminals and trapping corporatists; well, all of that "legacy" goes out the window now. While I don't care that he had sex outside of his marriage, he spouts off so much about doing the right thing than turns around and pays $1500 AN HOUR for a total of $4300 for a high-class call girl. And he pretends like he's untouchable so he phones and texts the prostitution ring... as if nothing can touch him! Egads, I want him gone. Let Lt. Gov. David Paterson step into his position. Please. Now. I don't even want to see or hear from him again, and we have another three years to go in his term! I can't do it. I don't want to do it.

Please, just leave.

Mea Culpa

Keith Olbermann called me one of the worst people in the world the other night.

Oh, of course, he didn't tell me personally, but it might as well have been me.

On Monday, Seung-Hui Cho, a 23-year student at Virginia Tech, lost his marbles and killed 32 people. On that day, I was so angry over this shooting, that I asked, "Why don't they just shoot themselves first?" In that post, I knew the person was seriously messed up but frankly, I didn't give a damn about whatever was going on inside him at the moment he snapped. I said:

Maybe he wanted to go down in history because his life wasn't worth it in the first place? Maybe he knew that he wouldn't get out alive or would face the Virginia death penalty? Maybe he just snapped after reportedly shooting his girlfriend in a domestic dispute? Maybe something else horrible happened to him? Maybe he was just a loser who couldn't control himself and wanted to inflict as much pain on others before he took himself out of the equation.

And I was so mad at this guy, that he would do something like that, that I wanted to smack him dead. I also wanted, in my heart of hearts, for some one to rise up and beat the crap out of the dude. I don't think I was actually thinking rationally, but more emotionally, more viscerally. That "someone" I was talking about were the students themselves.

So, in a nutshell, I momentarily agreed with folks like John Derbyshire at the National Review Online.

I had been listening to an April 17th story related by Virginia Tech student, Erin Sheehen. Sheehen was one of only four students who survived Cho's rampage through their German class. They survived by playing dead and after Cho left, they blockaded the door and stopped Cho from returning to the room. It made my blood boil just hearing about what the kids and teachers went through. I applauded them for not letting him back into the room.

Maybe I've seen one too many kung fu or action hero movies. But everything in me screamed, "Just knock that fucker out."

That was complete and utter rage speaking. I was accused at Gothamist of blaming the students for not trying hard enough to stop the asshole with a gun. An asshole with a gun is a powerful thing. I guess I've known too many people to die from gunfire, and how much I hate guns. And people who shoot folks for no good reason. How much sometimes, I wish someone would just "knock the fucker out." Looking back, I realized that I was blaming the victim. I'm sorry.

So, I offer this conversation and this mea culpa. I am one of the worst people in the world.

Michigan's Ford, Like New York Past, Has Dropped Dead

Well, it's been an interesting holiday week. James Brown (who will lie in state at the Apollo Theater in New York this coming Thursday) died on Christmas morning, while here in Michigan, our own former President, Gerald Ford, died yesterday in California. It's been on the teevee here for more than a few hours today, as I'm sure it's been on the teevee around the country. I don't think we're going to go Reagan-dead crazy, but I'm sure as a President has passed, it's going to be a long road, so to speak, until Ford comes back to Grand Rapids to be buried.

That's a snarky title, I will admit. I have no real feelings about former President Gerald Ford. I don't remember him from his days of representing Michigan, and I was a little too young when he was appointed President to have real feelings about Vietnam, Nixon, or Nixon's pardon. What little I do remember of this time was that a lot of people were dying on the teevee in the war, some gate with a lot of water was a bad thing, and the president was a liar. What he lied about I didn't necessarily know or understand, but I did know that he had done something very bad and had to go. It wasn't until I was a little older (I was ten in 1974) that I finally figured out what the hell had happened.

Ford refused to bail out bankrupt New York during his tenure, and I sorta remember fearing that my hometown, Detroit, was about to face a nightmare, too. Only in the last eight years when the words Rumsfeld and Cheney floated to my conscious brain did I realize that Ford begat both Rummy and Cheney, and let's not forget that he also ushered George H.W. Bush into the position of CIA chief. So, while a lot of people believe Ford to be an okay president (better than Nixon, at least), he hired a lot of people who I like to view as a bunch of pandering idiots. Smart and clever pandering idiots, but panderers and idiots nonetheless.

Sigh. Anyway, rest in peace, Mr. President. At least your long national nightmare is over, while we who are left struggle with those who you placed in positions of authority. Thanks, buddy.

Here's a Dana Carvey skit from years ago, as Tom Brokaw practices his "Ford death announcement."


Thanks, Gothamist for some of the above links.

Worst Places to Take a Dump in New York

I've gotten a bit political lately, and frankly, I'm tired of it. So, on to something really important!

It's rather difficult to find a public toilet in NYC. I mean, REALLY DIFFICULT. One of the golden places use to be the Plaza Hotel. You could walk into the lobby, obstentiously to look at the interior or just be a tourist, but then wander 'round to the olde toilette located on the first floor. New Yorkers used the public restrooms at the Plaza for those times when you just happened to be in the neighborhood and needed someplace to go. Oh well, those days are over at the Plaza: It was bought by a group that will turn it into condominiums and an updated hotel. So, I have the feeling that for 2.5 million dollar residencies, there'll be no more free dumps there.

Billionaires For Bush at the Plaza Hotel, Republican National Convention, 2004

Anyway, Gothamist.com (I love those guys!), posted a link to some guy who is doing an envaluable public service in letting us know where not to go if you need to go. I have the feeling the bathrooms on his site are either Unisex or Men Only (but if the men's room is bad, I can only imagine what the Woman's Room is like!) Unfortunately, when you have to go, you just have to... go. Oh well. Hold your nose, take some practical advice, and visit New York City and NY's "Wost Places to Take a Dump."

Ick!

6+6+06 = Impeachment

Whereever you stand on the issue of impeachment, some genius has taken it one step further. The billboard below is for the remake of "The Omen." The ad actually reads: "6+6+06: You Have Been Warned."

Visual Resistance by way of Gothamist

Andi Warholas Take a Stroll on a Sunday

{{A big welcome to Gothamist Readers, the Andis love you, too!!}}


In celebration of Andy Oh!'s birthday, the Andis did brunch at Cafe Mogador in the East Village, made a stop at James De La Vega's art store, walked past the Village Voice, then headed to see the boy in the bubble, David Blaine.

Here we are, walking toward Cafe Mogador after visiting the De La Vega store across the street while waiting for our table to be called. Yes, we did have to wait like every one else. We finally got a fabulous table for six, the five Andis of the day and Marco Paparazzo. Lovely and tasty brunchables were had by all. We read from Andy Warhol's "From A to B: The Philosophy of Andy Warhol" and tried to figure out our ultimate purpose. No luck with that, so we just ate. Andy wrote that though he knew he should eat protein, he only wanted to eat sugar.

Street graffiti artist James De La Vega relocated his art store from East Harlem to the East Village. De La Vega saw us hanging out at Cafe Mogador (like I said, across the street), and came over with his ever present cigar. He asked us to take a picture with one of his "My Mom As..." series of paintings. We thought it a fabulous idea. This one just happened to be "My Mom As Warhol." How appropos. This is one of three pictures Marco Paparazzo took of us and it. The best one (not this one) will be going to De La Vega and he promises to put it in his store.

After our lovely brunch, we strolled toward the D train (yes, these Andis take the subway; Andy was notoriously cheap, by the way); we stopped for a snap at the Village Voice. According to Warholstars.org, in early 1966 Andy took out an ad in the Voice which read:

‘I’ll endorse with my name any of the following: clothing, AC-DC, cigarettes, small tapes, sound equipment, ROCK ‘N” ROLL RECORDS, anthing, film, and film equipment, Food, Helium, Whips, MONEY; love and kisses Andy Warhol.
EL 5-9941”

Andy wrote that he wanted to be an Art Businessman or Business Artist. Andy R (who was unable to attend the day's stroll) sent the following NPR link regarding one of those objets d'art that Andy endorsed with his name.

Continuing our stroll, we walked by a fabulous store that sells retro chairs, and we had to walk in and sit down in a few of the masterpieces.


Reminds us of the Factory days...

and effective

Product Placement...

We continue on to the subway.
{{Interlude on the Subway}}

We arrive uptown.

And see a photo-op...

Which would have been perfect if not for that Andy T on the end. We need personal stylists to make sure our photo-ops are perfect. Or maybe we'll just find some Interns. Yes, we need Interns to help us, and not the leftover kind. Andy hated leftovers of all types, particularly typists, Interns, and takeout.

Our stroll finally takes us to the event of the day! Blaine in a Bubble! It was a circus! An event! A happening! But when the Lady said it was spiritual and deep, the Andis chuckled inside. We knew it was only "How People Today are Doing Things." Nothing spiritual or deep about it.

Alas, like our table at brunch, we waited in line like everyone else to get our picture taken with the man in the bubble. We were patient and kind to strangers who would ask us what we were doing, even though we ourselves didn't quite know. But they kept asking, and we kept thinking we needed to have an answer. Hmmm.

Marco Paparazzo said that we were "Blurring the Line Between Consumptive Art and Consumption of Art." Hmmmm.

After 45 patient minutes in line (what idiots stand that long in line, anyway?), the line suddenly stopped. Why? Emergency leak or some sort of freak Gary Larson Far Side moment? No. It was only dress rehearsal, so to speak, for the next night's show on ABC freeing the water-logged Blaine in a Bubble. We waited for another 1/2 hour in hopes that the line would proceed. Andis got antsy, and our patience wore thin. Finally, despite a four to one mock vote (it is a democracy, after all!) in favor of leaving (see photo below to find out which Andi didn't want to go), we left. Who would have thought that the craziest photo-op of the day would be defeated by the need to get the right camera angle?
Ultimately, we're just having fun. It was a lovely day for a stroll.

More Stroll photos here.