It’s been a whole year but it’s finally happened. I have a cold.
Last year, if you recall, I was laid up for a whole three days while battling my first run-in with the flu. That’s right, I’d never had the flu until I moved to New York City. I credit my mother’s breast milk for this accomplishment (Thanks, Mom!)
Honestly, my first year in the City was by far the roughest. I puked, I coughed, I flued, I sprained, and swelled but you know what? I am now the pinnacle of super immunity. Well, almost.
Thankfully, I’m not bed-ridden but I probably shouldn’t be roaming these city streets like a bobble headed pilgrim in search of Christmas presents (and my way back home). At any rate, I’m on the up and up – though utterly humbled by this scratchy feeling in the back of my throat.
Damn those subway hands!
Maybe it was an act of drunken idiocy or perhaps even some attempt at comedy – any way you look at it, drawing swastikas on public property is not only wrong but also anti-Semitic.
Brooklyn has been hit with a string of public anti-Semitic crimes lately, from horrifying graffiti in Sheepshead Bay to the more recent vandalism inside a Williamsburg settlement. I found the swastikas below at the Lorimer stop on my way to work this morning.
Either this girl is off to her choreography class or she’s en route to 1992.
A light bulb? Milk glass? Crack cocaine?
What ever it is, it’s kind of beautiful.
I’ve recently and quite suddenly become really bored with my morning commute. To me, it’s slowly transformed into a lot of the same : same rotating cast of figures – the Ecuadorian crooner singing “Stand By Me” in broken English, the over-styled young professional carrying a man-purse, that one guy on the lap steel – same packed subway car, same cattle call at Union Square, same AM New York guy, same same same.
In an evolved contemporary society in which the rights of men and woman continue to equalize; in a world where powerful women are increasingly visible, it is really quite astonishing to see advertisements that so openly and playfully demonize the female sex.
This observation began as so many others: on the subway. I spotted an ad for Zip Car in which a woman had apparently kicked her boyfriend out of their apartment and destroyed most of his material possessions. The copy read: “Sometimes you just need a car,” scrolled atop the mess of this man’s life. A mess, might I add, that his girlfriend created.
What did he ever do?
If you look at him (and his broken things) it appears that he enjoys music, watching TV and playing golf. Judging by the garment bag splayed over the stoop, he probably works a job that necessitates a suit. He likes vinyl records and douchey clothing. He seems like an okay guy.
What do we know about her?
She is pissed, just look at her. He must have done something really bad, that guy. Maybe he cheated on her? Maybe he said she looked fat in that new dress? I bet she’s on her period. What ever the case, he’s perplexed, desperate and pleading with her not to destroy his things. C’mon, baby! She’s irrational and won’t stand to hear any of it. Look at her face, she’s sadistic. She’s enjoying every second of this temper tantrum. It appears as if she’s even deriving some pleasure out of completely destroying and humiliating him. “Him” or should I say “that poor guy.”
In all seriousness though, hasn’t the female image suffered enough in popular culture? Not only are women consistently portrayed as objects of desire but our sexuality is often trivialized (lesbians are frequently depicted as criminals or predators), along with shows of confidence or power.
The woman below is not portrayed in a positive light. She looks like a kook; a crazy, psycho girlfriend in a story that only tells one side. A story that I happen to find really annoying and even a bit offensive.