Tuesday, June 30, 2009


Synesthesia from Terri Timely on Vimeo.

The Teaches of Peaches @ Music Hall

Photo by Nicole Wasilewicz

When I first saw Peaches I was a teenager in frilly panties drinking half of bottle of raspberry vodka before stumbling into the Henry Fonda Theatre in Hollywood. My third time seeing Peaches and I'm stone cold sober fully dressed at the Music Hall of Williamsburg about to turn 26. And one thing hasn't changed a bit - Peaches still rocks harder and longer than any boy I've ever known or seen.

After she stood on top of the audience and the drum machine - she went up into the second level of the venue and announced that her family was here as she put her arms around an older lady (her mom?) and then gyrated wildly over the railing.

The re-enactment of the "Lose You" video complete with the robe costume and projections of faces on her arms was a highlight -- but she had us at "hello" in a ridiculously puffy sexy outfit. The audience was transfixed when she played with a light rod; and throughout the performance she shed a million layers of leotards until she was down to one flesh colored sweat covered number.*

At one point someone next to me compared the almighty Peaches to Lady Gaga - gag me! With her questions and sometimes "fuck you" to gender roles, DIY mentality and Cousin-it backup dancers Peaches is in a place where Lady Gag-me doesn't even know how to dream about - because it's REAL and raw and disgusting and wonderful.

Treating the audience to three encores and letting her backup band (Sweet Machine) - dressed in mermaid scales and lingerie play a little solo number Peaches rode us all into oblivion and even left us wanting more...until next time lady, I love you!

*It is now decided that I will wear nothing but leotards this summer and cut my hair into a Peaches-inspired mullet.


Monday, June 29, 2009

Death of Autotune (Good Riddance)

Autotune has been ruling airwaves too long. The canned mechanical loops and droning has gone from innovative to unoriginal across the board. Originality in rap music is being crushed by conformity in an industry that already has a penchant for beat biting and lazy rhyming. Though with a smash single, Kanye produced track, Jay-Z's calculated fro, minimalist black attire and millions, he's hardly the posterboy for progressive, when grassroots rappers aren't stepping up to the plate, OG's have to hit the home runs.


Bloody Brooklyn


Saturday, June 27, 2009

"Fearless on my breath" i always thought it was "feel like someone ... braaaave!"

Thursday, June 25, 2009

See you at the Crossroads

OMGZ! No way did MJ and Farrah die on the same hot summer day. I was going to eat ice cream on a park bench and people watch until class time, but now... now I have to self-medicate.

Farrah Fawcett, perma-golden child, who I always thought looked strained and sad in her ubiquitous pin-up poster.

And MJ. King of the Lost Boys. Never had a childhood until he made his Neverland Ranch. But before that, he taught a whole generation how to dance, had a killer voice, and seemed so lost.

A super-talented, super-prolific friend has been writing a song a day, and wrote a great one of MJ.

It's a sad day.


Monday, June 22, 2009

MET Remixed

After meeting a girl on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum, we made our way to Central Park's Great Lawn, endangered by flying baseballs, runaway babies and business men openly stripping down to boxers. Over Merlot concealed in a cranberry juice bottle, I learned the MET is built on top of an old aqueduct, which once supplied New York with water. Now, it is filled with ancient artifacts and unopened treasures from William Randolph Hearst's San Simeon. Between sips, I recalled From The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, one of the books that fueled my childhood fantasies of running away. Published in 1967, a preteen brother and sister escape the suburbs to sleep amongst Greek Statues and steal coins from the now gone MET lunchroom fountain. Uncovering my 2002 reissue for rainy reading, I was surprised by the author afterword. "The greatest adventure lies not in running away but in looking inside, and the greatest discovery is not in finding out who made a statue but in finding out what makes you."


Friday, June 19, 2009

Ch-Ch-Ch- Changes

Times are a'changin'. We all know this, and sit and wait for the changes to not completely overthrow everything we have worked for. And sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't.

Vague, I know.

Youtube, I hardly knew ye. One minute I am watching a dog on a skateboard, or a kid after his dentists appointment, and the next I am watching the only known footage inside Iran's insane political unrest due to their stolen election. (Here you can watch why Youtube thinks this is an important time for citizen reporting)

It's interesting how the internet, one great vehicle of transparency, has brought many politicians to their knees. There was the whole Mecaca debacle, then the YouChoose debates where people were able to ask questions. Is the whole internet transparency one of the reasons why we care about politics and the world again? Is it exciting getting news from sources like Twitter and Youtube because we know real people are posting them and there are no journalistic barriers to entry? Citizen reporting is an interesting enough genre, there is little journalistic integrity but somehow that gives it greater credibility.

What has been impressive is the amount of Iranian activists, just small scale activists trying to incite some change for the better in a country fraught with a troubled past. It's inspiring because they do so at great risk to themselves. Good luck and good night.


Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Bring It Back!

My 8th grade girlfriend made me wear black nail polish, like her number one crush Johnny Resnick. I hated The Goo Goo Dolls, but loved her morbidly and the noir on my nails seemed a sexy way to win her Upper East Side heart. I hid my hands from my downtown artist/social worker father, fearing he would analyze my amorous actions as emasculating. But I was secretly hooked on the scent of polish mingling with my girlfriend's messy kisses.

Black Nail Polish for Boys. Bring it Back?


Friday, June 12, 2009


Viva Hate!

If you want to forward the white supremacist cause, do it intelligently. Bigoted entitlement is never smart, but you can at least package it as fighting for the disenfranchised white shitheads of America, rather than dementedly shooting a security guard and giving Jews from Crown Heights to Kibbutzim reason to rationalize their persecution fantasies with firearms. A shy Jewish boy brought up in the Black and Dominican dominated Lower East Side of the early '90s, I'm all about diversity, but can still play devil's advocate. After my Bar Mitzvah, my Rabbi's wife told me we should drop a nuclear bomb on Germany and I shouted "Heil Hitler" in her face. But these immature antics and button pushing are appropriate for a thirteen year-old hormone case, not a homicidal eighty eight year-old asshole. There are plenty of excuses for ignorance, but none for insistant, proud myopia. The ability to change our world and educate ourselves is color blind and revelling in one's own out-moded, racist ideas is being one's own taskmaster. White supremacists: You are only whipping your own backs.


It's a Bold World

Sometimes it's nice to wake up in the morning and feel like this:


Thursday, June 11, 2009

Lost In Justification Translation

Security Guard #1: I'm mean, I'm not JT or nothin', but I've got the money.

Secuity Guard #2: Who's JT?

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

FREE Fridays

FREEwilliamsburg, the digital home of Brooklyn's hippest 'hood for the last 10 years, will be hosting a showcase for The L Magazine's Northside Festival this Friday as an anniversary of sorts. And what better way to celebrate than with FREE ice cream!?

Beyond all the sugary goodness for your mouth, there will be some musical sweets for your ears too!-- Don Pedro's unofficial house band Organs will be starting out the night with garage blues, followed by the lovely Air Waves. Next up, the Pitchfork approved Real Estate dish out some jams to swoon/surf to, as Javelin, newly signed to David Byrne's awesome Luaka Bop, get you ready to shake your thang. Last but not least, These Are Powers rock your socks off with the premiere of their new video.

Not to mention DJ sets from peeps such as Free Danger, who you might remember from Pomp's Brooklynovation party with Poster Boy. Not familiar with the bands? Keep a lookout all week for interviews of all performing acts, starting with Real Estate here:


'Nuff said? I think so...

Put your party pants on and get there early, FREE Heineken from 7:30-8:30pm.

Friday June 12th, Death By Audio, All Ages, $10, Doors @ & 7:30

-Nicole W.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

What Not To Be

As a 29 year-old single, childless mixed ethnic woman living in Park Slope I have had my fair share of interactions with children. As a teacher, a cancer, and an auntie, I happen to like little ones which may explain how I lasted this long. But, growing up lower middle class, teaching the very low income, I am repeatedly disgusted by the self-absorbed style of child rearing in the Slope.

I have witnessed mommy daughter tea time conversations "What do you think Daddy wants for dinner?" while the rest of the cafe patrons sit on laptops, single, trying to work. Walking down to my brownstone, families have stopped me in my tracks while they barricade recounting in cerebral detail to their four year-olds their lawyer’s work day. Obviously their family moment took precedent over thirty pedestrian commuters, on their way home.

In the co-op "Linewaiters Gazette," a new position has opened up: a bureau of investigation for any nasty language, sexism, racism, homophobia, etc. What about discrimination against the childless?

At my shift, countless parents have asked if their child may try my job, stamping receipts, ringing up items. If I hesitate, they hatefully glare. I am unimpressed by their kids, I've seen far cuter, more well-behaved. In Japan, in France, in third world countries and amongst the kids I’ve taught, mostly from poor Latino communities.

The entire co-op community is based on sing-a-longs and strollers. Recently, a woman informed me she was going to pick up her two-year old during our shift as check-out cashiers. While she was gone, my shift ended. When I came back later to buy dinner the two year-old’s mommy was ready to confront me.
"You left even though I had to pick up my two year old?"
"You weren't there."
"Because I was picking her up," she let it go saying her child was "okay this time."
I rang up my organic sushi, coconut water and chocolate. What made her time more valuable than mine? And if I have a child, which I hope to, will I ever be as blind?


Monday, June 8, 2009

Necessary Luxuries

At a time when politicians and car insurance commercials are waxing nostalgic for a simpler era, I don’t see how anyone could justify paying money for a human function. I could have walked two blocks and one avenue down to Central Park and passed out for free.

West side salon Yelo, specializes in relaxation and reflexology. I was taken to a sleep pod where an anti-gravity chair awaited. Music pumped into the pod and my choice of scent was sprayed in the air: relax, detox, sleep, or energize. I added a ten-minute reflexology massage to twenty minutes of napping for $40.

Calling it a birthday experiment for myself, I sat in my anti-gravity chair, inhaling lavender oil under my nose with the skepticism of a scientist testing a Ouiji board.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Why the hell am I doing this?

The masseuse started to rub my neck and shoulders. Tension I didn’t know I’d been carrying melted away. I breathed deeper.

Maybe this isn’t so bad...

“Hi, Carly. Time to get up!” my masseuse told me. She’d left the room twenty minutes earlier, and I had fallen asleep. I tried to account my sleepiness to three straight days of late nights followed by early mornings, but the anti-gravity chair probably didn’t hurt. I can’t say I’ll be a regular customer, but indulgence in moderation isn’t all that bad, is it?

-Carly Okyle

Friday, June 5, 2009

Overheard in NY

"White people are the minority here and I think that's really awesome!" -Recent Portland transplant on Bed-Stuy.

Are you a natural snooper who overheard something unnatural? Send your captured conversation snippets and we'll print what's fit. pomponline@gmail.com


Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Hey Baby

Heat and mating season make New Yorkers let it all hang out. I am pro sex yet have always had mixed feelings about street harassment. A woman whose weight fluctuates from average to a little extra, a globe trekker approaching 30, I’ve developed an international view on the issue.

Growing up in Philly after I lost my baby fat and had a growth spurt I got a lot of attention on the block. I chuckled, flinched sometimes. After a few years, I took “White is right!” “Can I get a ride? and “Pssst, snowflake” for granted. Yet I was always self-conscious, wearing overalls over my miniskirt to waitress one summer.

In France, I starved myself more to almost French size, sticking out only to my matronly host who said I was a little plump. Still, I was the victim of both friendly Bonjours and a teenage ass grabber.

I moved to Japan and gained 20 pounds. My teenaged students shouted “I love you,” and girls grabbed my breasts in clubs. I was the victim of chikan-subway molestation. A crime so common authorities told me to carry hatpins.

I moved to New York five years ago. In the big city, women and men, cultivate the blank, sidewalk face, which I wear more often than I’d like. Sometimes, a “God bless you, beautiful” is a relief.


Monday, June 1, 2009

Bring It Back!

A sign of the times, my babysitter gave ten year-old me an O.J. Simpson slammer. Even then, I didn't see the purpose of Pogs, yet I proudly stashed them, building a collection I lost interest in around the same time I got rid of my mushroom cut.

Pogs? Bring It Back?