Thank You MIKE Bloomberg

Mailed to my cats Snagglepuss Jr., Ms. Meow, and The RatMaster 5000
Thank you MIKE for all the big sturdy campaign ads I keep gettin' in the mail!

In between me, my 5 cats, 3 dogs, my surrogate taxpayer rabbit Mr. Chuckles, and the "Dirty Dozen" rats I been trainin' to pull the miniature Santa sled I found in a dumpster -- all of us registered to vote -- we been gettin' 20 mailers a day!

Soon I will have enough to paper the walls, ceilin' and floor of my tar paper shack down here by the crick, near where Kings County meets the Queens.  (I don't want to tell nobody which crick, 'cause then they'd all be movin' down here!)

Thank you, thank you, thank you!  Thank your ad people for usin' such good lookin' models, and thank your momma for bequeathin' you such a nice soft pleasin' face yourself -- since I'm gonna be lookin' at all y'all for the next 10 years at least!

In fact, since I hear there is no way you can lose, might I suggest you just get elected every 8 years?  'Cause these things is that sturdy -- sturdy as a country girl who can churn butter before breakfast, plow the field all day, and birth a baby in between supper and singin' the chickens to sleep!

Loquaciously Yours,
Festus T. Tennessee, Esq., PhP, DoD

Yup, the T. is for Tennessee too.  My friends call me Tennessee, MIKE, and you can too!  Done forgot what them letters after my name is for, so I can't rightly throw 'em away now, can I?

Concrete Drawing

From back in the day when builders had respect for those who have to look at their products, the building at Park Ave. South and 22nd St.

A geometric fade is built into the skeletal surface of the building, with columns that mimic roped bunches of bamboo, stepping back into and filling space at the same time.  The building face is a great example of implied and actual volume working together, bridging the fat parts of our brains that deal with the concept and reality of depth.


The building has a Disney cake-castle air to it, but it's saved by its good bone structure and good skin.


Originally named the Church Missions House, it now houses the Federation of Protestant Welfare Agencies; it was designed by Robert W. Gibson and built in 1893.  Here's the New York Times article about it from 1893.

Williamsburg Sights

Recent sights from Williamsburg and the Williamsburg Bridge.  Above, the view from the top of the bridge's south walkway.  Note the old-school Navy Yard cranes that echo the rooftop cubes in front.


Above left, I'm so used to this thing on N 7th that I believe it should be landmarked as-is.  Above right, I bet this building at Bedford & N 3rd will never look better than it does here.


Above left, the huge pit behind the Bedford & N 3rd building, that has warped spacetime and swallowed sidewalks.  Above right, a soft tank down on River St. near N 1st that fits right in with the gray day.


Above left, near the entry to the bridge's south walkway, Intel Outside.  Above right, from further up the north walkway of the bridge, a scrawl that proves we've moved past "the medium is the message" to "there is no message, just buzz."  I blame spray paint manufacturers, the Internet, and the idiots who post these pictures (oops) for this sad state of affairs.

And finally, below, up on the middle of the bridge, living proof that taggers operate in the armpit of the world -- a pink world at that.

Kitchen Breakthrough!

Actually, a kitchen accident -- funny how most great discoveries happen by accident -- led me to discover what you see to the left: cheese soap!

If you use Hot Pepper Jack cheese, as I have in this case, it exfoliates the top layer of skin before sealing the rest in a protective coating of wonderful cheese!

[ Frauds Who Claim to Have Invented Cheese Soap Before I Did ]

Visual Dessert

Haranguing without rewarding is cruel, so a few pictures.

Above, the view toward Broadway from Houston & Lafayette.  Left, from under the BQE in Williamsburg, the brownish monster that is 20 Bayard, caught between two left thumbs.

Bowery Extremes

Extreme examples a block apart on the upper end of Bowery.  Above, a repair shop at Great Jones, one of the neighborhood's last outposts of raw visual funk.

Left and below, a unit of the suburban "Edge City package" so popular with developers -- slick, context-free living above a bank branch -- plunked down on the corner of Bond.

I would guess the well-to-do tourists at nearby sidewalk cafes are thinking "The great thing about New York is: You feel like you never left home!"