Gawker is annoyed by Andersen’s new book, Reset, where he tells us measly serfs that we should enjoy the recession. After all, it’s a learning experience. Writes Andersen:

It’s time to ratchet back our wild and crazy grasshopper side and get in touch with our inner ant, to be more artisan-enterpriser and less prospector-speculator, more heroic Greatest Generation and less self-indulgent baby boomer, to return from Oz to Kansas, to become fully reality-based again…. Yes, we must start spending again, and we will. But we’ve all known people who, having survived the 1930s, never lost their Depression habits of frugality. And so it will be again.

And it gets worse:

[E]ven after the economy recovers, deciding to forgo that third car or fifth TV or imperial master bathroom or marginally cooler laptop will come more naturally.

Fifth TV? Christ. Thankfully, Gawker sums up our thoughts to a tee

But we’re getting tired of hearing cultural and economic evangelizing about the upside of the fact that people literally can’t afford to eat from well-heeled, comfortable intellectuals whose book parties probably cost more than the median income in a lot of the decimated towns across this country whose misfortunes they are fetishizing as some kind of return to bedrock values.

Go read the whole damn thing here.

South 2nd and Havemeyer

The Brooklyn Filmmakers Collective has a screening event at the Music Hall of Williamsburg this Friday night based entirely around the impending apocalypse. It’s called: The End!

There will be an apocalyptic screening of 20 short films produced by members of the collective and a special live performance by The Midnight Masses (features members of Dragon of Zynth and Trail of Dead).

After the jump, check out the promo video which absolutely confirms my suspicions that Bedford Walks was entirely organized by The Zombie Union to create an apocalyptic harvesting field for braaaaians..

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20 artists presenting their take on what love is via oil, acrylic, wood, photography, video, among other mediums. Love for me is not leaving the neighborhood to check out art.
My favorite DJs, Knight and Gale (although Florence is missing?) are taking care of the set so the soundtrack will hopefully augment the night of art (and love).
104 Meserole st. ~ Brooklyn ~ 7pm

Ponytail, with their infectous experimental pop, have been steadily winning our hearts with each live performance. This past Sunday, at the waterfront kick off to the Pool Parties, was no exception. Whenever this band comes to mind, I always find myself using the same adjective– primal. While collective tongue-roll, wail, and yelp are not what one usually considers as vocals, Molly Siegel, echoed by Dustin Wong, contorts her sound in a most transfixing sort of way.
Backed by clangy guitars and flooded by cymbals, Ponytail’s natural vibrance seeps through it’s own medium, feeding their audience with raw energy. If you’ve been in the crowd, you know exactly what I’m talking about. This is the kind of noise rock that, rather than the lyrically thought-provoking prod of neo-folk, induces physical emotion. Just really good fucking stuff, period.
We caught up with Molly about her primal honesty, Fleetwood Mac, the importance of downloads, and most importantly, our longing for the next LP… Check out the interview after the jump…

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Now that Williamsburg has turned into a post-apocalyptic-halted-condo-construction wasteland it’s attracting a nasty infestation: Gutter Punks. From The Daily News [via]:

Heroin-addict hobos from around the country are overrunning hipster haven Williamsburg – living in stalled luxury condo projects in the trendy Brooklyn neighborhood.
The squatters, from middle-class families, hop freight trains to the city, where they can earn up to $150 a day panhandling in Manhattan. At night, like plenty of other borough commuters, they return to their homes: grubby hideaways inside boarded-up lots that pock the once-booming neighborhood.
“I’ve got to sleep somewhere, and I might as well do it in Williamsburg,” said Stuart, 22, a Florida college dropout.
The admitted alcoholic and heroin user makes $15 an hour panhandling in Union Square, holding a sign that reads “Traveling Broke and Sexy.”
“The girls here like it that I’m dirty and I ride trains,” he added.
The vagrants – who also call themselves “crusty punks” – swarmed into Williamsburg this spring, drawn by open-minded young people and vacant lots.
Packs of punks and their mangy dogs clog Bedford Ave. in the evenings. They sprawl drunkenly on the sidewalk and heckle hipsters for money and cigarettes.
“There’s a big crowd of us here,” said Sethry, 20, of Portland, Ore., lounging near North Ninth St. one recent night. “Every night it’s a party with all our friends.”

Ew. Can we fumigate? Given the excess of crusty-ass beards and plaid in the neighborhood, it’s no wonder they feel at home.
Williamsboard has a huge thread on this nasty phenomenon.

Williamsburg’s very own Gutter Punks, “BB Guns” (l.) and “Robert” (r.): If you see these two don’t give them money and, it should go without saying, but don’t give them sex either.

Apparently, Dave Eggers isn’t busy enough writing the screenplay for Where the Wild Things Are, Away We Go, being the founder of McSweeney’s and heading up the nonprofit 826 because his new book Zeitoun comes out today.
Dave Eggers spent two years interviewing and researching Abdulrahman Zeitoun, a Syrian-American who was arrested when he went out in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina to help his neighbors and check on his rental properties. He was detained for over three weeks and refused medical attention, all while being harassed about being a Muslim. Probably not the best beach reading, but goddamn, does Dave Eggers knows how to tell a story.
Also, while less literary titillating, the fur covered edition of Where The Wild Things would make an amazing gift.

North 3rd and Kent Ave

In case you missed the dance of the Giglio on Sunday, Rumproast just posted a great video of this amazing Williamsburg tradition:

video via Rumproast
Here’s a nice overview, via The Daily News:

The Giglio [weight: 3+ tons—KK] is a statue on top of about a 65- or 70-foot tower decorated to look like a lily, and the statue on top is St. Paulinus. The Giglio is made up of a steel and aluminum frame, and it’s in three or four sections that are hoisted into place with a crane. The face of the Giglio, which is the lily, is made out of papier- mach√© and wood and cardboard tied to the frame … and the face of the statue is painted. So the statue of Paulinus sits at the very top of the lily tower, and on the base is a 10-piece band that plays music (and the guys in the band like to eat – they’re pretty heavy!) and the Giglio ‚”dances” to that music when lifted.
So why do neighborhood men risk throwing out their backs to hoist it?
Well, it’s a reenactment of the ritual that took place. Roughly about 100-130 guys pick up the statue, and the statue is lifted several times through the afternoon, and we dance through the streets to the music. And then, of course, the boat [another 3 tons, requiring another 100 men] is lifted at the same time, which signifies St. Paulinus coming back to Nola, and the Giglio is the lily meeting him. And the boat and the Giglio are lifted together a few times during the festival and come together. The dancing of the Giglio happens three different times during the 11-day festival, beginning today.

Gothamist has some great pictures here and you can read about this 100 year old tradition here. [Thanks Rumproast!]