The Nightmare of Brooklyn Real Estate: a reality check from 1905

As many events in my life are, this post was sparked by a discussion on Gawker (lately, it’s the rare one which doesn’t center around how awful Kinja is becoming, and god knows, it started out badly).

Yuppies have apparently Burst Williamsburg’s Borders, Spilling Out in All Directions.

I imagine that looked something like this.

…and was welcomed by the locals in much the same spirit.

Now, I’m going to make a radical proposal. There will be mucho blowback on this controversial statement; of that I am well aware. My lawyers are standing by, along with a team of trained PR ninjas, to ensure we all come out of the ensuing melee with our orthodontistry intact.

I’m going to say that the gentrification of Brooklyn has been going on for more than a century. It’s true! There never was a time when it was “the undiscovered country!” And there never really was a time when anyone was happy to move out of Manhattan and across a bridge, unless they were getting out of the MCC.

Here’s your proof. Memory is a wonderful thing, my friends, for lo, it has enabled me to read a Gawker post about sprawling colonialism in Brooklyn and tie it to this comic, from Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend, a marvelous collection of turn of the last century but one comics, all based on nightmares from having had too much Welsh Rarebit. I must test this theory out on the ol’ drinkscoaster blog someday, and snarf a whole Welsh Rarebit just before bed, preferably with the kind of beer that just gets gassier the farther along the gastrointestinal tract it gets.

From the brilliantly twisted mind of Winsor McCay, and from the readers who sent in their dreams for illustrations (or the stories he made up when nobody was forthcoming; was this the first Overheard In model in history?), not to mention the good people at the Comic Strip Library,  comes this panel. True then as now, down to the olde timey get-ups and the novelty smoking equipment.

Brooklyn Real Estate Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend

Brooklyn Real Estate Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend

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German Philosophers play Monopoly

You just KNOW this is going to be good from the title alone, right? And it is, OH it is.

German Philosophers play Monopoly. YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

German Philosophers play Monopoly. YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

German Philosophers play Monopoly

German Philosophers play Monopoly

Team Marx, as always!

DramaSec Intervention

DramaSec Intervention

DramaSec Intervention

Can’t we all just get along?

While the Warden’s not looking

and there IS no key

and there IS no key

Ah, GPOY right there. I often feel like the smartest person in the room, but some days I literally feel like the only smart person in any room or even outdoors, all the way to the sky and including any spelunkers or snorklers currently under the surface of the planet. And then I go to Facebook, where I receive confirmation of this.

Yesterday I went to a meeting of people interested in a particular do-gooder nonprofit where the project lead spent FIFTEEN MINUTES defining the words in the title of the talk. If he didn’t think we knew what those words meant, why did he think we were there?

How to Facebook

How to properly scream

How to properly scream

As I remarked on Facebook earlier today, I really find it impossible to understand the kind of person who goes to Facebook, looks around, and decides “What this place needs is some more photos of executions.” As if it weren’t unpleasant enough, what with all the Its Complicateds and photographs of sub-par risottos and animals with adorable birth defects.

But yeah, if that’s what you really want on your Facebook wall I guess you can put it there. You gotta be you, right? Amirite?