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New York City is Forever King

I read an article recently stating that Brooklyn is now the least affordable place to live in the country.

Story by The Dimestore Casanova images by Muge Karamanci
©Muge Karamanci

©Muge Karamanci

It’s the coldest it has ever been. Not quite outside, but wherever I go. I feel the emotional stock market losing investors and shares by the day. The way it used to be in Long Island City is that you would get out of rehearsal and whether it was a good day or a bad day on the stage you would do some “chalk talk”. Sauntering around in heavy rat tattered overcoats, speaking of things like “How is he or she an actor?… What do I have to do to get a part in this fucking place?” That was the long ago bubble that has floated away down the pig pen gentrification transplant toon town tunnel. It’ll never be the same. Have you been to Long Island City recently? It smells of white privilege, gastro-pubs, the answer to a question that no one had ever asked. How do we make our city better?

©Muge Karamanci

©Muge Karamanci

I read an article recently stating that Brooklyn is now the least affordable place to live in the country. Whilst others did find madness in this I thought to myself “Well it makes sense doesn’t it?” We’ve always had the best of everything for the last thirty years, it seems like someone maybe a real estate robber baron, maybe some sort of sadistic scumbag turned over a rock and exclaimed “Oh, I get it now!” I hate to burst the idealist bubble, but Brooklyn was always like this even when it wasn’t quite as prevalent

©Muge Karamanci

©Muge Karamanci

Sonny Franzese and his son Michael ran Williamsburg in the “glory days”. You have to look at the spots to remember them, you have to know the spots to look at them. As a native, I do find that people who come here don’t know anything about Brooklyn, they believe it wasn’t here before they got here. Case in point the hideously unbelievable and problematic show “Girls”. It makes the trust fund generation feel like they are worth something when in fact they are worth even less than nothing, depression for them is not having the yacht in the summer because you chose my little piece of paradise to conquer and destroy like Torquemada. This is me talking, this is a self imposed inquisition.

©Muge Karamanci

©Muge Karamanci

I get asked all the time at work: “Don’t you love Williamsburg?” “No.” I never thought I would say that Manhattan seems more appealing than Brooklyn these days, it does though. How can that be? I ask myself this every day. There are still the inspiring parts of my paradoxical paradise that is New York. Take a trip up to Spanish Harlem, just to walk around, the beauty of Riverside Park, go take in a show. Let me be clear what I mean by show. In a world of Lion King/Matilda/Jersey Boys you have real theater being made by real auteur’s who care about the profession. It doesn’t take much to scratch below the surface. You might be better off for it.

©Muge Karamanci

©Muge Karamanci

This is not meant to be a travel piece about coming to NYC and ruining it, let me make this perfectly clear, I don’t want you here. I never wanted you here. If you must come, observe the rules of the city, there are rules to this place. I can still see the magnetism of certain areas in the city, they are, however, being destroyed, catacombs of historical societies have books now on the 5 pointz. It’s scary. That’s scary.

I look out the window and see parts of NYC in these bubbles that are being clawed away, some by our own hands and some by the greed of others that will never know or they just don’t care. It’ll always be cyclical. There is one thing that is for sure though, you will indeed find me walking around every part of this disjointed hub of whimsy just blowing my bubbles.

Get Well Soon Anthony Mason!

©Muge Karamanci

©Muge Karamanci

 

 

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