Urban Studies

You are currently browsing the archive for the Urban Studies category.

"In this book are powerful satires to help restore your sanity."

This 35¢ Ballantine paperback collection of pieces by some of the most famous humorists of the 1950s is so out of print that even Amazon doesn’t seem to have a readily available bare listing for it. Within its 154 pages are essays, illustrations and song lyrics by Robert Benchley, S.J. Perelman, James Thurber and Ogden Nash, among others. Leading off the book is “The Night the Old Nostalgia Burned Down: My Own New York Childhood,” a ridiculous “memoir” by Frank Sullivan. He’s all but forgotten now, but Sullivan was a prominent humorist for the New York World and the New Yorker from the 1920s to the 1950s. A page about him on a website about Saratoga Springs (his hometown) recalls Sullivan as being “known for his gentle touch and for the collection of fictitious characters he created: Aunt Sally Gallup, Martha Hepplethwaite, the Forgotten Bach (a member of the Bach family who was tone deaf), and Mr. Arbuthnot, the cliché expert.” An excerpt from his piece in The Wild Reader:

“Father was very strict about the aristocratic old New York ritual of the Saturday-night bath. Every Saturday night at eight sharp we would line up: Father; Mother; Diamond Jim Brady; Mrs. Dalrymple, the housekeeper; Absentweather, the butler; Aggie, the second girl; Aggie, the third girl; Aggie, the fourth girl; and the twelve of us youngsters, each equipped with soap and a towel. At a command of our father, we would leave our mansion on East Thirtieth Street and proceed solemnly up Fifth Avenue in single file to the old reservoir, keeping a sharp eye out for Indians. Then, at a signal from Papa, in we’d go. Everyone who was anyone in New York in those days had a Saturday-night bath in the reservoir.”

Tags: , , , ,

Don’t quit your day job, you bucket of bolts. (Thanks Reddit.)

"The woman who received the valentine caused the arrest of the lady who is charged with sending it" (Image by Quentin Massys.)

Back in the nineteenth century when Valentine’s Day was still known as “St. Valentine’s Day,” sending a comic valentine was at least as likely as sending a sentimental one. A comic valentine was a card that had a grotesque illustration which mocked the recipient’s most obvious flaw (big ears, weak chin, prominent brow, etc.) and contained a rude and abusive poem. It was generally thought of as a middle-class tradition, but even high society got into the act sometimes. The excerpts below from a trio of Brooklyn Daily Eagle articles recall the nasty tradition, which not everyone appreciated.

••••••••••

“Making Valentines” (December 19, 1886): “The average citizen is not apt to receive a comic valentine descriptive of his principal fault or weakness with any degree of pleasure. He oftener gets mad and in some cases searches for the sender. McLaughlin Brothers’ factory in Brooklyn has, during the past ten months, turned out 15,000,000 comic and 5,000,000 sentimental valentines. With such advantages practical jokers and lovers will have plenty of material with which to work on February 14, Valentine’s birthday. The former prevalent custom of venting a petty spite by sending a comic valentine has comparatively died out in the eastern and Middle States. West of the Mississippi River the valentine has, however, a ready sale.”

••••••••••

"Cyra'nose' de Bergerac."

“The Comic Valentine” (February 21, 1899): “The right of people to amuse themselves at the expense of others is contested by one woman who resides in the aristocratic portion of the Fourteenth Ward. She received a valentine representing a person with a large nose, and accompanied by doggerel rhymes, together with manuscript additions of a reprehensible character. The lady that sent this gift had been obliged to move from her chateau on North First street at the request of her landlord, and she accused the recipient of the gift of hastening her departure. The woman who received the valentine caused the arrest of the lady who is charged with sending it, and the case has proceeded so far as to be adjourned. Right or wrong in the accusation, the refusal of a person to be amused by reflections on one’s nose will be commended in many quarters where the misfortunes of the arch-type of sufferers, Cyranose de Bergerac, are still unknown. In some quarters of the city the sending of valentines that are called comic has been as absolutely discontinued as the New Year call.”

••••••••••

Arrows in the butt. (Image by Martin van Maële.)

“Valentine Causes Murder” (February 14, 1900): “C.R. Stewart, grocer, died to-day from the effects of a shot fired by his son Louis, aged 19, in a quarrel over a comic valentine. The son, who is in jail, says he was protecting his mother from an assault made upon her last night by his father. Mr. Stewart had received an offensive valentine and had accused his wife of having sent it. She denied the accusation, and he attempted to assault her when the son fired the shot and afflicted the fatal wound.”

Tags: , ,

Watch this six-bladed baby take off.

"This is what happens when you smoke a lot of weed."

looking to buy a GED (ny)

sadly enough i need my ged and don’t want to take the test, any idea on how i can get one, , i need it for a jod, and i want to take a class that requires it ,, so please let me know how we can get it,,

AND FOR ALL THOSE THAT WILL SAY , JUST TAKE THE TEST YOU LOSER, keep IT TO YOURSELF AND GET A LIFE JUST MOVE ON..THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU SMOKE ALOT OF WEED AND LET 15 YEARS GO BY, PLUS REALLY LAZY AND DON’T HAVE THE TIME, I WORK TWO JOBS.. BLA BLA BLA.

In 1999, preacher Jack Van Impe cheerfully used Y2K to scare the bejeezus out of his flock and raise some funds, with help from his brittle-boned wife, Rexella. They haven’t exactly toned down the rhetoric since. (Thanks Crunchy.TV.)

Tags: ,

Gregory Chudnovsky (pictured) and his brother, David, are Distinguished Industry Professors at NYU's Polytechnic Institute. (Image by Gregory Chudnovsky / NYU.)

The first two paragraphs of Mountains of Pi,” Richard Preston’s excellent 1992 New Yorker account of eccentric math geniuses, the Chudnovsky brothers, and their home-built supercomputer:

“Gregory Volfovich Chudnovsky recently built a supercomputer in his apartment from mail-order parts. Gregory Chudnovsky is a number theorist. His apartment is situated near the top floor of a run-down building on the West Side of Manhattan, in a neighborhood near Columbia University. Not long ago, a human corpse was found dumped at the end of the block. The world’s most powerful supercomputers include the Cray Y-MP C90, the Thinking Machines CM-5, the Hitachi S-820/80, the nCube, the Fujitsu parallel machine, the Kendall Square Research parallel machine, the nec SX-3, the Touchstone Delta, and Gregory Chudnovsky’s apartment. The apartment seems to be a kind of container for the supercomputer at least as much as it is a container for people.

Gregory Chudnovsky’s partner in the design and construction of the supercomputer was his older brother, David Volfovich Chudnovsky, who is also a mathematician, and who lives five blocks away from Gregory. The Chudnovsky brothers call their machine m zero. It occupies the former living room of Gregory’s apartment, and its tentacles reach into other rooms. The brothers claim that m zero is a ‘true, general-purpose supercomputer,’ and that it is as fast and powerful as a somewhat older Cray Y-MP, but it is not as fast as the latest of the Y-MP machines, the C90, an advanced supercomputer made by Cray Research. A Cray Y-MP C90 costs more than thirty million dollars. It is a black monolith, seven feet tall and eight feet across, in the shape of a squat cylinder, and is cooled by liquid freon. So far, the brothers have spent around seventy thousand dollars on parts for their supercomputer, and much of the money has come out of their wives’ pockets.”

Tags: , ,

From Geekersmagazine: “Scientists from Cornell, the University of Chicago and iRobot have created human-analogue hands using nothing but coffee grounds, party balloons and a vacuum pump.”

"It is sent to Munich and made into wigs by girls." (Image by Charles S. Lillybridge.)


A lot of you have been requesting I post something from 1898 about doll hair, so here’s a note from the
Brooklyn Daily Eagle of that year:

“The hair on the heads of most of the hundreds of thousands of dolls exhibited in shop windows is made from the hair of the Angora goat. This product is controlled by an English syndicate, and is valued at £80,000 a year. After the hair is prepared it is sent to Munich and made into wigs by girls.”

The stylus would be the size of a telephone pole. (Thanks Reddit.)

"Just a bunch of bricks." (Image by Thegreenj.)

I need a box of bricks

Broken bricks, dirty bricks, just a bunch of bricks.

I’ll pay a little bit of money for them, but mostly I’m hoping to help someone by hauling some crap out of your basement or whatever.

Baseball pitcher Whitey Ford and timepiece melter Salvador Dali shill for Braniff during the 1970s.

Tags: ,

Thomas Edison with phonograph in 1868.

As we clasp hands and celebrate Thomas Edison’s birthday today, here’s a note about his modest beginnings in the December 1, 1898 issue of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“When Thomas Edison was a boy he made a set of working telegraph instruments, not covering a small envelope in size, in his spare time. He fixed this on a line connecting the station at which he was at work and the town, using tenpenny nails for insulators; and in dry weather the tiny telegraph company worked very well, though things were apt to go wrong in rainy seasons. During the first months Edison and a boy friend who ran the line netted 31 cents from their venture–not a large amount, but enough to show that the instruments were of some use.”

Tags:

Holton Rower uses many paint colors + gravity. (Thanks Open Culture.)

Tags:

Bob Dylan in 1963, a couple of years before he went electric.

In the aftermath of his controversial shift from folk musician to rock star, Bob Dylan took the art of the non-answer to illogical but entertaining extremes during a 1966 Playboy interview, conducted by Nat Hentoff:

Playboy: Mistake or not, what made you decide to go the rock-‘n’-roll route?

Bob Dylan: Carelessness. I lost my one true love. I started drinking. The first thing I know, I’m in a card game. Then I’m in a crap game. I wake up in a pool hall. Then this big Mexican lady drags me off the table, takes me to Philadelphia. She leaves me alone in her house, and it burns down. I wind up in Phoenix. I get a job as a Chinaman. I start working in a dime store, and move in with a 13-year-old girl. Then this big Mexican lady from Philadelphia comes in and burns the house down. I go down to Dallas. I get a job as a ‘before’ in a Charles Atlas ‘before and after‘ ad. I move in with a delivery boy who can cook fantastic chili and hot dogs. Then this 13-year-old girl from Phoenix comes and burns the house down. The delivery boy – he ain’t so mild: He gives her the knife, and the next thing I know I’m in Omaha. It’s so cold there, by this time I’m robbing my own bicycles and frying my own fish. I stumble onto some luck and get a job as a carburetor out at the hot-rod races every Thursday night. I move in with a high school teacher who also does a little plumbing on the side, who ain’t much to look at, but who’s built a special kind of refrigerator that can turn newspaper into lettuce. Everything’s going good until that delivery boy shows up and tries to knife me. Needless to say, he burned the house down, and I hit the road. The first guy that picked me up asked me if I wanted to be a star. What could I say?

Playboy: And that’s how you became a rock-‘n’-roll singer?

Bob Dylan: No, that’s how I got tuberculosis.”

Tags: ,

Singularity enthusiast Ray Kurzweil is profiled by Lev Grossman in a Time piece entitled, “2045: The Year Man Becomes Immortal.” In the article, the futurist predicts that the singularity–that moment when artificial intelligence surpasses human intelligence–will occur in 2045, which seems very ambitious. Grossman recalls that in 1965 a teenage Kurzweil appeared on the TV show I’ve Got a Secret to perform a piano piece composed by a computer he built.

Tags: ,

"This will be a permanent situation." (Image by Steven Arnold.)


SEEKING FEMALE WHO BUYS AND SELLS ON THE INTERNET (QUEENS)

or goes to flea markets etc. i am in need of someone who can help me out about once or twice a month with the following:

1. administer an enema and a full body deep tissue massage.

in exchange for these services i will swap various things that you can sell. this will be a permanent situation and i have quite a bit of things. each visit you can pick a certain amount of things to sell. the 2 treatments take about 3 hours. if interested please leave contact info. thank you kindly.

The opening paragraph ofCovering the Cops,” Calvin Trillin’s outstanding 1986 New Yorker profile of police reporter and mystery novelist Edna Buchanan:

“In the newsroom of the Miami Herald, there is some disagreement about which of Edna Buchanan’s first paragraphs stands as the classic Edna lead. I line up with the fried-chicken faction. The fried-chicken story was about a rowdy ex-con named Gary Robinson, who late one Sunday night lurched drunkenly into a Church’s outlet, shoved his way to the front of the line, and ordered a three-piece box of fried chicken. Persuaded to wait his turn, he reached the counter again five or ten minutes later, only to be told that Church’s had run out of fried chicken. The young woman at the counter suggested that he might like chicken nuggets instead. Robinson responded to the suggestion by slugging her in the head. That set off a chain of events that ended with Robinson’s being shot dead by a security guard. Edna Buchanan covered the murder for the Herald—there are policemen in Miami who say that it wouldn’t be a murder without her—and her story began with what the fried-chicken faction still regards as the classic Edna lead: ‘Gary Robinson died hungry.'”

Tags: , ,

This is how I caught the F this morning.


Alan Taylor, the amazing photo editor who ran the
Boston Globe‘s Big Picture, has moved on to the Atlantic to create a new photo blog called “In Focus.” Unsurprisingly, the new site is already outstanding. Current photo series provide stunning images of the Egyptian revolution, America’s extreme winter weather and Afghanistan. These are topics being covered in a million places, but Taylor manages to bring a different perspective to the ubiquitous.

Tags:

"Mr. Smith is in comfortable circumstances. He is about 35 years old. His wife is a fine looking woman, a few years her husband's junior, and was quite a favorite with other occupants of the flat house."

Mrs. Sarah V. Smith apparently had had enough. In 1891, she up and left her merchant husband and took just about everything with her. Mr. Smith was not amused. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported on the sorry domestic situation in its May 3, 1891 issue. An excerpt:

“Mrs. Sarah V. Smith, wife of Isaac N. Smith, a Duane street, New York, wholesale dealer of twine and wrapping paper, mysteriously disappeared from her home in the Kensington apartment house, at the corner of Throop avenue and Quincy street, on Thursday. Where she has gone or why she went away nobody on the premises seems to know. Mr. Smith, who did not know of the wife’s disappearance until several hours after she had vacated her apartments, is evidently as much in the dark regarding her motive in leaving as everybody else. The deserted husband unceremoniously left the premises on Friday morning–the day following his wife’s going away–and has not returned since.

"Isaac N. Smith, a Duane street, New York, wholesale dealer of twine and wrapping paper." (Image by Daniel Schwen.)

The Smith family had occupied the East flat on the second floor of the Kensington building for almost a year. Mr. Smith is in comfortable circumstances. He is about 35 years old. His wife is a fine looking woman, a few years her husband’s junior, and was quite a favorite with other occupants of the flat house. The couple have two children, aged 3 and 5 years respectively. On Thursday evening, according to a statement subsequently made by Mr. Smith, he started for business as usual, bidding his wife an affectionate good bye. At six o’clock that evening he returned home and was astounded to find upon entering his apartment the bulk of furniture and household belongings missing and nothing discernible of his wife and children. The carpets in every room of the house had been taken up and with the other fixings removed. About the only articles left were a framed picture of Mrs. Smith and a large Saratoga trunk containing Mr. Smith’s clothing. The mystified husband made anxious inquiries throughout the building relative to his wife’s disappearance, but obtained but little satisfaction.

The following advertisement, which has a direct bearing on the mystery, appeared in last night’s Eagle: ‘SMITH–TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: My wife SARAH V. SMITH, has left my bed and board without my consent and wishes, and I hereby forbid any person or persons from trusting her on my account. ISAAC N. SMITH.'”


Tags: ,

The great Les Blank directed this short doc about a Los Angeles “Love-In” on Easter Sunday in 1967. Longhairs + Hell’s Angels. (Thanks Documentarian.)

Tags:

RoboCop: statuesque. (Image by MGM.)

Detroit may be down in the dumps, but the fine citizens aren’t letting Mayor Dave Bing‘s refusal to allocate funds for a RoboCop statue keep them from their dreams. They’ve begun a Kickstarter campaign to raise the necessary cash. (Thanks MLive and Reddit.) An excerpt:

“None of us have ever made a giant solid metal permanent sculpture before. It turns out to be a pretty expensive process (who would have thought?), but not too much for the world to fund. After talking to numerous sculptors and metal workers, the current game plan is this: We can take a relatively small figure of RoboCop (conceivably even an action figure), have it 3D scanned by lasers (cool!) and scale its form to create a light-weight model of any size we’d like, which can then be used to pour and cast liquid metal.”

Tags:

From Aaron Saenz on the Singularity Hub: “Robots have barely learned how to walk, but Vstone is already pushing them to run. The Japanese robot research and manufacturing firm has announced it is putting together the world’s first marathon for our mechanical offspring. The Robot Challenge will have bipedal bots racing around a 100m track for 422 laps either remotely controlled or operating completely autonomously by following a painted line.”

Tags:

"Good condition." (Image by Maddin.)


Butt plug barter and you have (Bklyn)

1 med butt plug for trade good condition let me know what you have to trade

« Older entries § Newer entries »