On Wednesday night, two police officers stood outside the Chinatown gallery Sargent’s Daughters. Only, there was no law-breaking or so-called “suspicious activity” to be investigated. Rather, they wanted to know what all the hubbub was about. Particularly, why everyone seemed to be munching cookies from a large, bright orange pair of pants. And no ordinary pair of pants. These were a rendition of the lower half of Hillary Clinton’s pantsuit in motion. Keep Reading »
Monica Singh, an employee of education and staffing company General Assembly, wasn’t expecting anything unusual when she went to work on Tuesday, one week after the distressing election of Donald Trump. But at the conclusion of her weekly team lunch, men around the room removed their sweatshirts and coats to reveal a heartwarming feminist surprise: Each was wearing an identical “The Future is Female” shirt.
Have you heard the one about the mom who decided to shake off her post-election blues by taking a walk through the woods in Chappaqua, only to bump into Bill and Hillary Clinton, walking their dog? The resulting photo has swept the internet, and offered some degree of solace to Clinton supporters. Meanwhile, Bernie Sanders die-hards are probably thinking, “Boy, I wouldn’t mind running into Bernie somewhere. I bet that guy could use a hug, too.” Don’t worry, Berners– you needn’t go trekking through the woods of Vermont to make it happen. (“Oh, hi, Bernie! I was just here for some maple syrup.”) This Monday, the candidate will be at the Barnes & Noble at 555 Fifth Avenue, in Midtown, posing with fans who’ve bought a copy of his new book, Our Revolution: A Future to Believe In.
The mood was shifting just as I made my way toward House of Yes around 10 pm last night. Commentators on NBC, CNN, and anywhere else were starting to look flustered– especially Wolf Blitzer (a guy who looks like he passed up coffee to stick his fingers into an electrical socket) whose discombobulated outbursts and spastic reportage were only adding to a slowly-building sense of panic. Many battlegroud states were still too close to call, but Trump and Hillary were now neck-and-neck. That menacing meter on the New York Times site, which measured the probability of a Trump victory, was jumping up from its position at “we’re cool” to “we’re so, so fucked.”
“Last night was—pardon my French—batshit crazy,” said Jon Vanco of IFC Center, referring to the surprise premiere of Michael Moore in Trumpland on Tuesday. “It was the most circusy, bizarre night on Sixth Avenue that I think we’ve ever had here.”
Finally, the American public got an October surprise that didn’t involve forcible fondling or 400-pound hackers. Monday night, Michael Moore basically dropped some balloons on everyone by announcing that his new movie, Michael Moore in Trumpland, would be premiering Tuesday at IFC Center. Little was known about what promised to be the Beyoncé of agitprop cinema, but that didn’t stop hundreds of people from storming the theater like they had decided where to invade next.
Last week’s video of Donald Trump bragging about sexual assault threw a giant dildo into a campaign that seemed impervious to shame, just as the candidate had almost started seeming more presidential (at least, in light of the spotty track record of previous presidents). As screwed up as the whole thing is, nothing in the video was all that surprising. The “locker room talk” only confirmed Trump’s image as a billionaire playboy who trades skyscrapers (his most phallic assets) like Pokémon cards, and gets whatever his little Trump desires.
“His whole image is vulgarly sexual in a way,” agreed Alfred Steiner, the curator of a very timely new art show. “And he’s played right into that the whole time.”
When you tune into the first presidential debate next week, expect a few pot shots.
Longtime yippie leader Dana Beal intends to march with a 51-foot replica of a marijuana joint at Hofstra University in Long Island. He’s hoping it’ll get the attention of former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, who has thus far failed to respond to a letter that pot activists hand-delivered to her Brooklyn campaign office in June. In it, they called on the Democratic nominee to remove cannabis from a federal list of dangerous drugs should she win the White House in November.
Everyone hates on Donald Trump, and now he’s literally a punching bag— Overthrow, the boxing gym that took over the Yippie building in the East Village, is rolling out a voter registration truck that’s equipped with a Trump-faced punching ball, so you can clock Don King’s favorite candidate right in the kisser. Not that we’d ever condone violence (or exercise), but it’s better than having to pay to Beat Up Trump in Union Square.
Oh Trump! The presidential hopeful continues to be a never-ending repository of hilarity, amazement, disgust, and abject terror. His bravado, swagger, and blatant disregard for those pesky things called facts have attracted millions of voters, but have repelled many others. We’ve seen more than enough of that doughy orange face and wispy hair to last most of us a lifetime, but a group called Indecline– what most outlets are reporting as an “anarchist collective” but don’t seem to embody those ideals at all– decided to take it one step further yesterday when the installed a naked Donald Trump statue at Union Square.
Many were surprised to find that, despite the wave of Bernie media attention, he buckled under the quiet, pragmatic Hillary voters hiding in plain site. For the most part, HRC prevailed easily in Williamsburg and the Lower East Side. The East Village was as divided as we expected it to be, with Hillary faring better in Alphabet City than she did further west. Meanwhile Bernie won Greenpoint by a landslide, and there’s now a new dividing line in Bushwick (North Bushwick went to Bernie, South to Hillary).