In this week’s NY Times Brooklyn handjob you’ll read about people named Dickerman and Cade and others whose ages range from 25-50 hanging out in a Victorian Kidult ”Communal” Club house. Why? Because Brooklyn is a kewelllllll brand deeeeeeeed!
Today, I saw flute-physiqued Xander struggling to carry a bag of Sriracha flavored artisanal popcorn up to his $3,200 a month, 105 year old, 5th floor walk-up apartment in Bushwick. So I scaled the outside of the building; climbed through his window; and greeted him at the front door with Shoryuken Ryu Street Fighter uppercut which shattered his bony bearded face. End of story.
Today, I saw Chase the emaciated rent-raising cupcakeologist checking his mailbox for this month’s gentrification allowance check. So I chased him onto the Brooklyn Queens Expressway where “ironically” a U-Haul bringing in two more hipsters from Iowa flattened him. End of story.
Who can move to any city and label themselves “artists”? Who has subsidization to live in any apartment at any price at any given moment? Who can make up whimsical theories to explain their idiotic attempts at art? Who has the infinite leisure time to live in a giant hamster wheel for 10 straight days and wallow in their own piss, shit and hipster body odor and call it “performance art”?
Who? THESE MOTHER FUCKERS DO:
The other day, Spike Lee gave a speech at Pratt and somebody asked for his thoughts on gentrification; he went off on a 7 minute rant on hipsters. Although he mentions “white people”, it’s not racist as the average defensive hipster/yupster would immediately nasally shriek. I’m sure the first reaction by a hipster or out of town gentrifier to Spike’s rant is “he’s racist”. He isn’t. He is specifically talking about hipsters; smug wannabe creative-type, gentrifying hipsters and yupsters who are trying to live upper class lives in working class neighborhoods. Sure New York is always changing – but this last decade’s hipster invasion has made the change too drastic; unfair to normal working families and young natives trying to live and work in the places they grew up; this does not just mean “black neighborhoods”. Plenty of hipsters still have parental financial support well into their 30′s and are using those funds to further keep rents high and raise rents in the new neighborhoods they “pioneer” into.
Here’s the thing: I grew up here in Fort Greene. I grew up here in New York. It’s changed. And why does it take an influx of white New Yorkers in the south Bronx, in Harlem, in Bed Stuy, in Crown Heights for the facilities to get better? The garbage wasn’t picked up every motherfuckin’ day when I was living in 165 Washington Park. P.S. 20 was not good. P.S. 11. Rothschild 294. The police weren’t around. When you see white mothers pushing their babies in strollers, three o’clock in the morning on 125th Street, that must tell you something.
[Audience member: And I don’t dispute that … ]
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. And even more. Let me kill you some more.
[Audience member: Can I talk about something?]
Then comes the motherfuckin’ Christopher Columbus Syndrome. You can’t discover this! We been here. You just can’t come and bogart. There were brothers playing motherfuckin’ African drums in Mount Morris Park for 40 years and now they can’t do it anymore because the new inhabitants said the drums are loud. My father’s a great jazz musician. He bought a house in nineteen-motherfuckin’-sixty-eight, and the motherfuckin’ people moved in last year and called the cops on my father. He’s not — he doesn’t even play electric bass! It’s acoustic! We bought the motherfuckin’ house in nineteen-sixty-motherfuckin’-eight and now you call the cops? In 2013? Get the fuck outta here!
Nah. You can’t do that. You can’t just come in the neighborhood and start bogarting and say, like you’re motherfuckin’ Columbus and kill off the Native Americans. Or what they do in Brazil, what they did to the indigenous people. You have to come with respect. There’s a code. There’s people.
You can’t just — here’s another thing: When Michael Jackson died they wanted to have a party for him in motherfuckin’ Fort Greene Park and all of a sudden the white people in Fort Greene said, “Wait a minute! We can’t have black people having a party for Michael Jackson to celebrate his life. Who’s coming to the neighborhood? They’re gonna leave lots of garbage.” Garbage? Have you seen Fort Greene Park in the morning? It’s like the motherfuckin’ Westminster Dog Show. There’s 20,000 dogs running around. Whoa. So we had to move it to Prospect Park!
I mean, they just move in the neighborhood. You just can’t come in the neighborhood. I’m for democracy and letting everybody live but you gotta have some respect. You can’t just come in when people have a culture that’s been laid down for generations and you come in and now shit gotta change because you’re here? Get the fuck outta here. Can’t do that!
And then! [to audience member] Whoa whoa whoa. And then! So you’re talking about the people’s property change? But what about the people who are renting? They can’t afford it anymore! You can’t afford it. People want live in Fort Greene. People wanna live in Clinton Hill. The Lower East Side, they move to Williamsburg, they can’t even afford fuckin’, motherfuckin’ Williamsburg now because of motherfuckin’ hipsters. What do they call Bushwick now? What’s the word? [Audience: East Williamsburg]
That’s another thing: Motherfuckin’… These real estate motherfuckers are changing names! Stuyvestant Heights? 110th to 125th, there’s another name for Harlem. What is it? What? What is it? No, no, not Morningside Heights. There’s a new one. [Audience: SpaHa] What the fuck is that? How you changin’ names?
And we had the crystal ball, motherfuckin’ Do the Right Thing with John Savage’s character, when he rolled his bike over Buggin’ Out’s sneaker. I wrote that script in 1988. He was the first one. How you walking around Brooklyn with a Larry Bird jersey on? You can’t do that. Not in Bed Stuy.
So, look, you might say, “Well, there’s more police protection. The public schools are better.” Why are the public schools better? First of all, everybody can’t afford — even if you have money it’s still hard to get your kids into private school. Everybody wants to go to Saint Ann’s — you can’t get into Saint Ann’s. You can’t get into Friends. What’s the other one? In Brooklyn Heights. Packer. If you can’t get your child into there … It’s crazy. There’s a business now where people — you pay — people don’t even have kids yet and they’re taking this course about how to get your kid into private school. I’m not lying! If you can’t get your kid into private school and you’re white here, what’s the next best thing? All right, now we’re gonna go to public schools.
So, why did it take this great influx of white people to get the schools better? Why’s there more police protection in Bed Stuy and Harlem now? Why’s the garbage getting picked up more regularly? We been here!
All right, go ahead. Let’s see you come back to that.
Where do I begin? I can’t take these out-of-place pod people anymore! Go back to your fucking hometowns and do your beard, art and coffee thing over there! See how they like it – you hipster fucks were never meant to come and homogenize and pussify the great borough of Brooklyn. First let me say that this was the most emailed story to me in the history of my website. Between 10:30am yesterday until this morning 63 people sent me this story. The other day when I did the Beard Font post I wrote: “How many beard stories can there be? It is SO – FUCKING – PLAYED – OUT. Beard art, beard contests, beard oil and now a Beard Font for you to type in?”
Can you believe just 3 days later there is a viral story about Bushpointburg stubble-challenged hipsters getting beard transplants/implants?
How fucking big of a desperate attention-needing douchebag fuck do you need to be to have this procedure? If you can’t grow a beard it wasn’t meant to be. But no – Tristan, Sallinger, Harrison and Brent – who have the combined body mass and strength of Nancy Reagan and Estelle Getty - will stop at nothing to “fit in” during their kidult playcation in Brooklyn. It’s just a phone call away to Mommy for a quick wire transfer of $8,500. Somebody should stand in front of one of these doctor’s offices and greet the wannabe beardo as he walks out with a big cardboard sign that says PUSSY in big bold letters. Isn’t it going to be strange when Hayden shows up to kickball practice, or artisanal pickling class, or to his local gentrification craft ale watering hole and his bearded buddies see his beard when they already knew his inbred emaciated face was incapable of growing hair?
The beard is now a symbol of the effeminate Brooklyn hipster. Not gay, but straight and effeminate. I cringe whenever I see these rent-raising faux lumberjack beardos; and now there will be even more of them?? It blows my mind how Brooklyn’s image has turned from a kind of tough yet loved & forgiving place and melting pot for the world into a place known for adult crafts; over priced and over-hyped food; rooftop kale gardens; $10 latte sipping; and horrific art galleries. Here are some links to this nauseating story; the NY Post comments section is gold and full of some good old hipster hate.
A diehipster.com reader and Brooklynite Eddie Going (Instagram.com/EddieGoing & twitter.com/EddieGoing) caught these interlopers on the D Train in Bensonhurst on a safari most likely to Coney Island. He said he overheard part of their conversation being something about Brooklyn pizza not being “all the rage”. So I’m guessing the first pizza they ever ate was Ellio’s or Tombstone frozen pizza back in Milwaukee and then upon arrival to Nieuw Breuckelen they were directed to go to Roberta’s Gentrification Pizza Parlor which is in an abandoned auto body shop in Bushwick; then they finally ate in a real pizzeria in southern Brooklyn and thought we were the imitators. I get so irritated when I see these people below the line.
So what does this 1950′s librarian glasses wearing, doughy Molly do? She begins photographing the Asian specimens on her expedition into uncharted parts of Brooklyn. “Like, yaaaaaaah – I’ll call this piece ‘Human in Natural Habitat’ “, she probably said to herself.
How many beard stories can there be? It is SO – FUCKING – PLAYED – OUT. Beard art, beard contests, beard oil and now a Beard Font for you to type in? What an embarrassment a good part of this generation of 25-45 year olds has been to history and humanity.
Today I saw Ethan taking a “food porn” picture of his $10 imported licorice infused latte for his Brooklyn based blog that only his enabling Culdesacian parents read to know their fragile red bearded son is keeping busy on their dime. So I dragged his empty-ketchup-packet shaped body behind the counter and ran him through the coffee bean grinder. End of story.
Bonus: Here is the actual picture of the transient zine boys. The one I used the other day had Keebler Redbeard’s mom’s credit card photoshopped out of it by the Brooklyn Paper.
New York is really, really starting to suck major dick. Wait, it already has for a good decade. The iconic Junior’s restaurant which opened in 1950 and is famous for its cheesecake has sold out to developers to bring in a 20-story and maybe a lot taller residential tower. Now you might blame the owners for selling out – but can you really? The problem isn’t people selling out – the problem is that hipsters started this trend of out-of-state people willing to pay too much money to live in the outer-boroughs; like when hipsters (actually their parents) idiotically decided to pay $1000-$1500 for 80 year old, beat up 1 and 2 bedroom apartments in Williamsburg in the late 90′s.
The Daily News article mentions that the owners of Junior’s plan on re-opening on the ground floor of the new building when it’s built; but that’s not written in stone yet and we all know it won’t be the same. So get ready downtown Brooklyn – for a new building full of yet more snob women carrying yoga mats at 1pm and nasally dweebs in their Land’s End catalog clothes walking dogs that are smaller than cats.