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Review: Bring To Light 2011

Saturday night I attended Greenpoint’s yearly one-night outdoor projection festival called Bring to Light. There were hints of Burning Man — a man clad in illuminated blue fiber optic cables, an inflatable marshmallow cave, a poetry truck — but the energy in damp autumn air was decidedly sober. Continue Reading this Column →

Hittin’ the Links

[caps]A[/caps]s the week draws to a close, here’s a look at a few of the things that captured our attention:

• Rap Radar’s got a new one from Queens rapper N.O.R.E. featuring the inimitable Pusha T & Meek Mill.

The Villager brings us more bad news regarding the east 13th St. ‘rape cops’ — apparently they’re letting them get away with yet another crime.

• We found this fitting tribute to poet and downtown fixture Samuel Menashe in The New York Times well worth another read.

“There are a billion people in the world who will never connect to electricity.” — Words from an inspiring TED talk about potential solutions to the global clean water crisis — which affects nearly half the entire world — given by social entrepreneur Paul Polak.

The Kimchi taco truck and its 3 tacos for $7 deal really hit the mark and, in what might just have been a case of good timing, the turnaround on the orders is astonishingly quick.

• Lastly, a nod to the true reason for the internet’s endless popularity: here’s a Teddy Bear Hamster eating pizza.

Save Heathers!

[caps]H[/caps]eathers Bar in the East Village is a place we here at Take the Handle love unconditionally. We’ve been going there for years, have thrown events there, and even logged some time working there. Now Community Board 3 is looking to close it down. Why? Because a select few East Village residents — yes, they knowingly choose to live in the insane asylum of nightlife that is the East Village — want to shutter a flourishing local business over a batch of chatty smokers. Yes, really.
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Riffin’ with Jowe Head

We recently caught up with indie rock godfather Jowe Head who was a member of seminal UK indie acts Swell Maps and Television Personalities as well as several great solo projects. His stage name is derived from Birmingham slang for “weirdo” but he’s one of the friendliest talkative gentlemen you could hope to meet as you’ll see in our quick chat about touring, mornings and the afterlife.

Want to see more Riffin‘?

Wha You Say? A Lil’ Wayne App Teardown

[caps]L[/caps]il Wayne’s Tha Carter IV is poised to sell 1 million copies in its first week and although he probably gets no kick-backs from any of it, the rapper has spawned a cottage industry of useless apps. Continue Reading this Column →

How to Crack Up Your Friends’ Gadgets

[caps]I[/caps] don’t know about you but i drop my iPhone several times per day. Companions are usually concerned when my phone flies out of my hand and slides under a parked car but my attitude is always: “I drop this phone all the time, the case will surely protect it.” Continue Reading this Column →

Five Easy Yarises

[caps]A[/caps]t 9 AM last Wednesday morning, I found myself sitting in a Culver City art gallery, socializing with a group of journalists over quiche and fruit salad. They represented outlets like Automobile magazine and Cars.com, and were swapping stories of tearing up the autobahn in electric roadsters and driving back from Detroit in heavy blizzards. What was I doing there?
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Part Three: A Trip to Tompkins Square Park

[caps]T[/caps]he first time I saw Pink Floyd was 1979 or ’80, in Los Angeles, on the original tour for The Wall, when the band played only a half dozen shows in L.A. and New York. This was at the height of the punk devolution, or new wave—such that the cool kids could only sneer at the whole shebang while the uncool, actual fans of the band merely groused that the new double concept record didn’t jam as much the old stuff, man—and that, worst of all, the band refused to perform anything but the entire new album in concert. Continue Reading this Column →

Corner by Corner: Park Avenue & 42nd Street

I’ll admit, I sometimes too feel like the world’s a cold and forlorn place, closed off, unrecommendable, with nothing beyond the most pedestrian or sallow gifts to offer—and then the weary, fetid soul: that oft befuddled, tired soul, no mystery so much as an incessant and repetitious recurrence.

Most of the time I’m feeling pretty good though.

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In Case You Are Not Naked:
“Sex Time” Now in the App Store

[caps]D[/caps]espite Apple’s ban on pornography in the App Store, there are dozens of Apps which exist in the strip-club-parking-lot gray area of sexual suggestiveness, proudly displaying their 17+ rating. The most recent addition to the field which includes Spin the Bottle 18+ and iKamasutra is simply called Sex Time. Continue Reading this Column →

Part Two: A Trip to Tompkins Square Park

[caps]B[/caps]efore I get too much further afield than I already most obviously am, I should probably get to the meat of the matter, or, at the very least, potatoes of my godforsaken patter. Potatoes? Patter? Good gravy!
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Relaunch Party Photos

[caps]F[/caps]irst off, thanks to all who made it out to the party at the Wooly celebrating both our relaunch and the glorious new documentary Plimpton! Very big thanks also go out to the Wooly & Dewar’s. I think it’s safe to say that a good time was had by all in attendance. Continue Reading this Column →

Long Live the Deadskins

[caps]I[/caps] have been a fan of the Washington Redskins for as long as I can remember. This was not a conscious choice, of course, not a decision I made after analyzing the players and coaching strategies of every NFL team before concluding that, yes, the Skins’ approach to the game was the one that excited me the most. I am a Skins fan because I happened to be born in Washington D.C., and so rooting for the Skins was more or less encoded in my DNA: a pre-programmed part of my personality that was simply easier to embrace than to reject. And so it goes for most sports fans. We love teams much the same way we love our parents, which is to say we love them illogically, unconditionally, eternally. We love teams when they treat us well. And, God help us, we love teams when they treat us like shit.
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Wooly/Wolly Party Nearly RSVP’ed Out

If you haven’t yet RSVP’ed to tomorrow night’s party at the Wooly, take a second right now and send your responses over to RSVP@takethehandle.com because we’re almost totally full. Our inbox has been bursting with all your rascally responses and amusing typos. We collected a few of the best/worst RSVP’s below:

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Plimpton, Play-by-Play: A Chat with the Directors of Plimpton!

[caps]I[/caps]f ever there lived a man deserving of the documentary treatment, it’s George Plimpton. Godfather of participatory journalism, founding editor of The Paris Review, and legendary bon vivant, his life begs retelling. So when the time finally arrived for the tale of the legendary raconteur to be committed to celluloid, it inevitably took shape in as pleasantly bizarre a fashion as any Plimpton devotee could hope.
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