More and more reports are flooding into Gawker HQ of unsubscribed to, unpaid for, and unwanted New York Suns being delivered to apartments around the city. In today's installment, we've got word of Sun spots all over the Upper West Side, plus dispatches from as far afield as Gowanus and Crown Heights.
Sightings are sent in by readers on mushrooms; send yours to tips@gawker.com.
• Columbia and the New Yorker — two bastions of elitism in a world gone to pot — combine their snotty powers to deliver a series of discussions between the magazine's staff and contributors at the university's Miller Theatre. Tonight's chat features Oliver Sacks and neurological disorders (another bastion of any elite). [flavorpill]
• Boggle enthusiasts flock to Rickshaw Dumpling Bar for the hopes of some hot letter-on-letter action after the tourney. [Paper]
• The Big Quiz Thing brings its five rounds of trivia and geek savant Noah Tarnow to the Ars Nova Theater tonight for an extra-special, extra-big quiz night. It's almost worth trekking to Midtown. [BQT]
• 3 years later, a resolution to the legendary fake Puma blowjob ads: They were specs from a European off-shoot of Saatchi & Saatchi. And while they weren't supposed to hit the internet, they did wonders for online store sales. [MemeFirst]
• Just in time for Valentine's Day, FreshDirect appeals to singles by suggesting they avoid suicide by gorging on Ben & Jerry's. [Gothamist]
• The queen Scissor Sister goes shopping for sex toys. Big whoop, right? Actually, the big whoop is that someone's taking camera phone pictures in the sex shop. Creepy much? [Two Martini Lunch]
• Saturday's Idiotarod — in which teams race shopping carts from Brooklyn to Manhattan's East River Park — only received minimal NYPD interference (cops just asked the teams to "slow down"). Are we supposed to believe that having shopping cart barrelling at you is much less a public concern than, say, riding the subway pantsless? [NYDN]
• You can question James Frey's honesty, his writing, his story — but don't you dare question his break-dancing skills. [H-P]
A high of fucking 63? In fucking New York City? On fucking January 30?
• Once a month, Channel 102 screens its low-budget shows in front of an audience, who then decides which shows to keep and which to cancel. It's like American Idol, but with less hair gel. [flavorpill]
• Essie Mae Washington-Willams, the daughter of Strom Thurmond and one of his family's African-American maids, discusses her coot of a father at the 92nd Street Y. And unlike the rest of the socially-conscious public, she apparently has something nice to say about him. [Upcoming]
• With appearances by Meryl Streep, Natalie Portman, and Ben Stiller and others, The Public Sings celebrates 50 years of musicals. Yeah, it's a little cheesy, but the Deerhoof show is sold-out. [PublicTheater]
Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.
Friday:
• Mika Rottenberg's video Dough follows "an extremely corpulent woman whose allergic reaction to daisies helps a viscous outpouring of dough to rise." Fine, but some people have been wise to the leavened bread thing for a few thousand years now. [flavorpill]
• Lisa Loeb and the Nine Stories play tonight at the Canal Room. Upside? You're guaranteed a Cody Franchetti-free evening. Downside? The glasses. [Upcoming]
Saturday:
• The Idiotarod '06 involves five-person teams navigating a shopping-cart from Brooklyn to Manhattan in whatever manner — bridge, tunnel, drunk, or sober — they please. Aside from the free after-party at Tonic, it's just another Saturday. [flavorpill]
• Field Music plays at the Mercury Lounge. Elevator music plays in the lobby. [Upcoming]
Sunday:
• Bernard-Henri L vy invades the 92nd Street Y to discuss how Europeans view Americans. You already know the answer, though: from a long way away, with a scowl. [Upcoming]
It's back. Three syrup-sniffing reports received overnight:
• Plasticman, along with Jammer and Skepta, create a "post-jungle diaspora" tonight at Rothko. Perhaps the open bar from 10-11 will help you figure out what the hell that means. [flavorpill]
• Nation editor Katrina vanden Heuvel will read from her Dictionary of Republicanisms tonight at 7. It's no Talking Bush doll, but we imagine there will be some good knock knock jokes. Barnes & Noble at 82nd Street and Broadway.
• The Broken Social Scene show at Webster Hall is sold out, but try and bully your way in anyway: Canadians seldom put up a fight. [Upcoming]
• The Bar Mitzvah Disco Variety Show takes over Mo Pitkins, featuring authors, comedians, and "a smoke machine operator named Marty." And, of course, bar mitzvah videos. It'll definitely be more entertaining than your own entry into adulthood. [MoPitkins]
• (I Am) Nobody's Lunch examines "how news and information are disseminated, and the way in which each of us forms beliefs based on the knowledge we gather." Also, there's singing. Logically. [flavorpill]
• Jill Sobule, best known for her sarcastic teen anthem "Supermodel," steps out of the Clueless soundtrack and into respectability with a show tonight at Joe's Pub. Don't expect her to kiss a girl, though. That was just for the music video. [Paper]
Sightings are sent in by emotionally abusive readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.
Oh dear. We're now terribly concerned the glorious reign of Conde Nast might be coming to an end. And the NYPD would be to blame. What gives, you ask? Just this: You know how the high end balances on the three-legged stool of expense-account lunches, Marlboro Lights, and Town Cars? Well, one of those legs is looking worrisomely wobbly. Reports a nervous Nasty:
• The first-ever WYSIWYG Film Festival, tonight at P.S. 122, features short films and videos from videobloggers. It's less dorky when you watch with a group. [Ovation]
• Over at the Sex Museum, Barbara Nitke presents an erotic slideshow and then discusses her pending lawsuit, Nitke and The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom vs. John Ashcroft. Boobies for all and hating on Ashcroft — just what the Founding Fathers intended. [MoS]
• The Coachella documentary screens at Union Square. It's not as cool as actually attending the festival, but it's not as sweaty or exhausting, either. [flavorpill]
From today's News:
BREAKING:
Today's Daily News update on accused sex offender and former Women's Wear Daily staffer Peter Braunstein is a bona fide treasure trove of Crazy. As he puts it, he dressed as a fireman to obtain entry into a former co-worker's apartment for 13 hours of molestation not because he's psycho, but because New York had turned its back on him. You hear that? It's our fault, New York. We're all to blame, from the sleeping MTA worker to Alex Kuczynski.
A reader sends in this pic and an inquiry:
• FishbowlNY blogger Rachel Sklar gives notice, as Mediabistro's dark goddess Laurel Touby has finally killed her happy disposition. Sklar lasted 10 months, which is a testament to her sheer strength and boa-blocking abilities. We'd say she'll be dearly missed, but it's not like she's dead or anything. In fact, she's alive more now than ever. Go free, young Sklar! [Media Mob]
• It's a lengthy, socialite-heavy blind item, but it's awfully intriguing. We're dying to know which Muffies and Sukies are involved! [NYSD]
• The Pink Elephant is back, but it's downgrading considerably to the likes of Crobar. For shame. [Jossip]
• 2006 should bring some fancy new hotels to NYC — assuming, you know, the damn things ever open. [New Yorkology]
• Musings on the separation of church and indie. [Pitchfork]
• New York City Restaurant Week starts today — enjoy it, as it's the one time it's almost OK to be fat in Manhattan. [NYCVisit]
Sightings are sent in by readers, many of whom are legally blind. Send yours to tips@gawker.com.
