Tonight, after driving all around Brooklyn and sweating in art spaces and Apple stores, I went to my ex-roomies house to relax and watch America's Next Top Model.
D joins us, and tells the room that he has something really exciting to share after the show is over. Since we're watching it recorded, every time we fast forward through the commercials, D explains how our minds will be blown (in vague, yet graphic detail).
Finally, the show ends in all it's ridiculous, overblown glory and D pulls out his laptop and plays us this video:
Now to each their own, but a) When did Insane Clown Posse get so soft? b) Is this what the millenium did to the angry 90s? and c) If so, aren't you totally okay with it?
-Kastoory
PS: *SPOILER ALERT* And why do they hate scientists? Seems like scientists could explain a lot of these miracles to them.
Showing posts with label Brooklyn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brooklyn. Show all posts
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Umbrella Funeral
Poor Canadians in Brooklyn, they bypassed the beautiful spring weather and got here just in time for a winter backtrack and monsoon weather. Ah well, like I mentioned they are not very high maintenance so apparently Paul walked around with one of the broken umbrellas pictured below all day yesterday. They are only here for a couple of more days so keep your fingers crossed that they won't need to adopt broken umbrellas again any time soon!
Busted umbrellas in Brooklyn and Manhattan Monday, March 29, 2010.
Photos taken by Paul Galipeau on his Nokia cell phone. Visit his website, Le Champion Du Monde.
Busted umbrellas in Brooklyn and Manhattan Monday, March 29, 2010.
Photos taken by Paul Galipeau on his Nokia cell phone. Visit his website, Le Champion Du Monde.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Opening Day: Coney Island
I have some Canadians staying with me in Brooklyn. They are the opposite of high-maintenance, very laid back and nice to have in the living room. After long days of studying and mini-meltdowns I get to come home and hear about their days and talk about mine. I don't ever want them to leave.
Yesterday, they went to Coney Island. It was opening day.
All photos (and thoughts) by Paul Galipeau. Check out his website.
Paul's Daughter...I wonder what her name is and also who is the mama?
Wonder Wheel. I think they closed early. There were a bunch of people coming out with Easter baskets when we got there though.
The beach.
Topless guy running.
Shoot the Freak: live human targets.
(Shout outs to Meaghan, Kastoory and Reanna.)
Yesterday, they went to Coney Island. It was opening day.
All photos (and thoughts) by Paul Galipeau. Check out his website.
Paul's Daughter...I wonder what her name is and also who is the mama?
Wonder Wheel. I think they closed early. There were a bunch of people coming out with Easter baskets when we got there though.
The beach.
Topless guy running.
Shoot the Freak: live human targets.
(Shout outs to Meaghan, Kastoory and Reanna.)
Monday, February 8, 2010
Warm you up
Our heat has been turned off, due to a series of unfortunate events. And since we actually live in a big drafty apartment in Brooklyn, it's a serious problem. I have a space heater but I am worried I'll find some roommates frozen to death in the morning. Here's hoping that does NOT happen.
Things to keep me warm while I am huddled in millions of layers, practically sitting on top of my space heater:
1) dreams of Future Possibilities
2) class discussion about entrepreneurs being hubris-tic
3) the smell of twinings earl grey, seriously before the first sip, just the smell warms me right up.
4) this amazing song and video...
5) the don't go to bed with a frown in your pocket song from 30 rock.
6) oh and these awesome booties from old navy.
-Kastoory
Things to keep me warm while I am huddled in millions of layers, practically sitting on top of my space heater:
1) dreams of Future Possibilities
2) class discussion about entrepreneurs being hubris-tic
3) the smell of twinings earl grey, seriously before the first sip, just the smell warms me right up.
4) this amazing song and video...
5) the don't go to bed with a frown in your pocket song from 30 rock.
6) oh and these awesome booties from old navy.
-Kastoory
Monday, November 16, 2009
Survival Soundtrack 7 - Honey
I love the random warm weather days, where everyone in New York is walking down the street with a little smile on their face.
This soundtrack pick is inspired by an article in the upcoming issue, about rooftop honey bees, a little piece of nature heaven in the industrial concretesville that is Brooklyn.
- Kastoory
This soundtrack pick is inspired by an article in the upcoming issue, about rooftop honey bees, a little piece of nature heaven in the industrial concretesville that is Brooklyn.
- Kastoory
Monday, June 29, 2009
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
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Packing Heat In The Hood
It’s cold and dark outside, but as the weekend comes to a close the promise of fresh salsa lures me out of my warm, Park Slope apartment. After enduring a long, circuitous subway ride around Sunday night track work, I finally meet the Pomp team for a much anticipated taste test at the Bushwick birthplace of the Brooklyn Salsa Company
The homegrown business was cooked up by friends Rob Bowman and Matt Burns, whose loft space inside a converted 19th century manse—once home to a pre-eminent German singing society—acts as office, kitchen, and living quarters. In a nod to its musical roots, the imposing brick building is now dubbed the Opera House Lofts and is home to a community of young, free-spirited residents who eagerly feed on the salsa-supply from apartment 112.
“It’s a hipster dorm,” explains Bowman as he guides me and the Young brothers (Royal and Fury) to the subterranean common room, where ping pong tables, plaid shirts, and Michael Jackson provide the backdrop for the salsa-fest in progress. On the table before us, buckets of freshly baked tortilla chips flank trays of cilantro-infused taco fixins, which solicit copious salsa consumption from all in attendance. And that’s just the point for CTO (Creative Taste Operator) Burns, who has learned that free food is the best way to transform friends into flavor analysts.
In fact, the idea for BK Salsa was sparked in the Opera House basement on a night just like this one last April. With praise for Matt’s ever-present, always fresh party snack at a fever pitch, the realization that his tomato-based offerings were good enough to sell, dawned on him and marketing-minded buddy Rob. With the help of a third partner, Jake O’Connor, and all the Opera House taste buds, they have since embarked on a collaborative effort to craft a city-centric line of salsas. There’s one flavor for each borough, resulting in a creative and often surprising mix of ingredients that mirrors the diversity of the Big Apple and offers an irreverent take on traditional conceptions of salsa. It’s an appetizing model well worth exploring.
So, with chips in hand, I begin in a burnt over borough meant for diehards that know how to handle a bit of heat. Initial signs from The Bronx’s fire-roasted chunks of eggplant point me not to Mexico but to the Indian sub-continent, thanks to a surprising curry cameo on the tongue. It’s nothing like my tropical escape to Queens, apparently felt by subway riders emerging into the sun from the Manhattan underworld. The sweet, orange-colored concoction is a pleasant blend of cooling pineapple mixed with Caribbean spices and coconut milk. But not to be outdone as a Manhattan getaway is Staten Island’s suburban salsa verde, which works as a fresh marinade for the evening’s “taco meat,” an oversized portion of pink salmon steak.
While the least exciting of the bunch is the mild-mannered Manhattan, a simple taqueria style salsa, it does act as a good palette cleanser for the trademark Brooklyn variety. That hiccup-inducing blend includes four unique peppers that slowly marinate in my mouth before compelling another dip of the chip. I later devour half a jar on my couch at home, succumbing to the insatiable quality of the chips and salsa experience. “That,” says Matt, “is what New York’s all about. You simply can’t get enough.”
Nor can this city’s way of life be narrowly defined, except to call it eclectic. And that is just the word for BK Salsa. In short, opines Jake, who like Matt is an aspiring actor by day, “our lives make up the salsa.”
As they continue to work towards perfecting all five recipes with as many organic ingredients as they can afford, this artsy, fresh-faced trio of twenty-something entrepreneurs enjoys an outlook characterized by more pomp than circumstance. “We want to bring BK Salsa to the international scene,” declares Matt, who envisions a future roll out of other urban-based salsas and perhaps even a chain of Chipotle style eateries in places as unfamiliar with Mexican-influenced cuisine as Australia. Jake meanwhile, talks about bringing the brand beyond the gastronomic and into the world of fashion, while Rob, influenced by Paul Newman’s philanthropic efforts and his uncle’s own bout with cancer, emphasizes his desire to donate a portion of future profits to charity.
But as they search for the big investment dollars necessary to really launch this project off the ground, they haven’t lost sight of their local circumstances: “Giving back to the community is key,” explains Rob. They’ve already teamed with a number of area bands to host a slew of successful salsa-backed fundraisers.
As our expanded group of five makes its way back to the Myrtle Ave J stop following the party, our take home buckets of salsa attract the excited attention of a hungry passerby eager to talk salsa with us. This stuff, it seems, is already a local hit.
-Jake Englander
(Photos: Amanda Segur)
The homegrown business was cooked up by friends Rob Bowman and Matt Burns, whose loft space inside a converted 19th century manse—once home to a pre-eminent German singing society—acts as office, kitchen, and living quarters. In a nod to its musical roots, the imposing brick building is now dubbed the Opera House Lofts and is home to a community of young, free-spirited residents who eagerly feed on the salsa-supply from apartment 112.
“It’s a hipster dorm,” explains Bowman as he guides me and the Young brothers (Royal and Fury) to the subterranean common room, where ping pong tables, plaid shirts, and Michael Jackson provide the backdrop for the salsa-fest in progress. On the table before us, buckets of freshly baked tortilla chips flank trays of cilantro-infused taco fixins, which solicit copious salsa consumption from all in attendance. And that’s just the point for CTO (Creative Taste Operator) Burns, who has learned that free food is the best way to transform friends into flavor analysts.
In fact, the idea for BK Salsa was sparked in the Opera House basement on a night just like this one last April. With praise for Matt’s ever-present, always fresh party snack at a fever pitch, the realization that his tomato-based offerings were good enough to sell, dawned on him and marketing-minded buddy Rob. With the help of a third partner, Jake O’Connor, and all the Opera House taste buds, they have since embarked on a collaborative effort to craft a city-centric line of salsas. There’s one flavor for each borough, resulting in a creative and often surprising mix of ingredients that mirrors the diversity of the Big Apple and offers an irreverent take on traditional conceptions of salsa. It’s an appetizing model well worth exploring.
So, with chips in hand, I begin in a burnt over borough meant for diehards that know how to handle a bit of heat. Initial signs from The Bronx’s fire-roasted chunks of eggplant point me not to Mexico but to the Indian sub-continent, thanks to a surprising curry cameo on the tongue. It’s nothing like my tropical escape to Queens, apparently felt by subway riders emerging into the sun from the Manhattan underworld. The sweet, orange-colored concoction is a pleasant blend of cooling pineapple mixed with Caribbean spices and coconut milk. But not to be outdone as a Manhattan getaway is Staten Island’s suburban salsa verde, which works as a fresh marinade for the evening’s “taco meat,” an oversized portion of pink salmon steak.
While the least exciting of the bunch is the mild-mannered Manhattan, a simple taqueria style salsa, it does act as a good palette cleanser for the trademark Brooklyn variety. That hiccup-inducing blend includes four unique peppers that slowly marinate in my mouth before compelling another dip of the chip. I later devour half a jar on my couch at home, succumbing to the insatiable quality of the chips and salsa experience. “That,” says Matt, “is what New York’s all about. You simply can’t get enough.”
Nor can this city’s way of life be narrowly defined, except to call it eclectic. And that is just the word for BK Salsa. In short, opines Jake, who like Matt is an aspiring actor by day, “our lives make up the salsa.”
As they continue to work towards perfecting all five recipes with as many organic ingredients as they can afford, this artsy, fresh-faced trio of twenty-something entrepreneurs enjoys an outlook characterized by more pomp than circumstance. “We want to bring BK Salsa to the international scene,” declares Matt, who envisions a future roll out of other urban-based salsas and perhaps even a chain of Chipotle style eateries in places as unfamiliar with Mexican-influenced cuisine as Australia. Jake meanwhile, talks about bringing the brand beyond the gastronomic and into the world of fashion, while Rob, influenced by Paul Newman’s philanthropic efforts and his uncle’s own bout with cancer, emphasizes his desire to donate a portion of future profits to charity.
But as they search for the big investment dollars necessary to really launch this project off the ground, they haven’t lost sight of their local circumstances: “Giving back to the community is key,” explains Rob. They’ve already teamed with a number of area bands to host a slew of successful salsa-backed fundraisers.
As our expanded group of five makes its way back to the Myrtle Ave J stop following the party, our take home buckets of salsa attract the excited attention of a hungry passerby eager to talk salsa with us. This stuff, it seems, is already a local hit.
-Jake Englander
(Photos: Amanda Segur)
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Snowy Stilts
The guitarist of Crystal Stilts is an ashy young man, playing with his back to the audience. They’re a peculiar breed. Singer JB often sings with closed eyes or rolled back in his head—all whites. I went to see them on a cold, snowy January night at the Market Hotel, a new venue in the heart of Bushwick. Hoping the nasty weather would stave off crowds, I made my way to the front. The show had sold out. Being a Brooklyn band, I'm sure Crystal Stilts felt at home on their own turf at the Market Hotel. I was there to see them play from their first full length LP on Slumberland Records, "Alight Of Night.” Its wall-of-sound production and tracks like "Dazzled" and "The Sinking" remind me of Joy Division. At the show, I expected to see JB do "The Dead Fly Dance" (Ian Curtis fans will understand.) To make up for the lack of seizures, opening band Box Elders' guitarist, got naked on stage and donned a homemade loincloth.
-Diana Kinscherf
(Photos: www.dominickmastrangelo.com)
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Mean Greens
After class, shivering in Tribeca I longed for fireplaces in log cabins like we had at my art school in Vermont, or at least my overheated BK apartment - but I wanted to be a supportive friend.
My friends' band, The Kiss Off, was playing for the opening of new green nightclub in NYC The Greenhouse (*joe six-packs, have a beer for every mention of the word green from here on in). It turned out to be in an area of the city made desolate after rush hour.
The band came out to join me smoking and complain about lack of management while we eyed the praying mantis looking she-guard behind the velvet ropes. There was a growing line on the other side of the door and I did not want to be on it. But I was curious to see what an all-green nightclub would look like from the inside (I admired the greenhouse effect outside with glass encased plants, but wondered what would happen when the roots outgrew their casing). Would the toilet paper be organic? Would the ice always be melty to signify the inconvenient truth we live with on a day-to-day basis? Most importantly, would there be any heat?
I discovered no heat when the manager finally strong armed us past the growling bouncer. Inside the lights flickered and the Ting Tings blasted over the speakers. Drinks were *gasp* inducing expensive. Especially for my Bushwick attitude. I nursed one drink and tried to make it count. $12 cocktails, $8 beers, $5 for club soda. My friend with the $5 club soda kept giggling at the ridiculousness. People were a combination of Long Island deep throater and New Jersey glam joker. Thank God The Kiss Off got to go first.
They played some of the newer songs they've been working on, running the gamut from epic guitar and keyboard journeys to rhythm and bass thumpers, either way, they had people push up from the polished pleather booths to dance. It was great to see The Kiss Off let go and flail around in time to their own music. They sounded and looked more confident, like they were having more fun. I guess that's what happens when you have to find your own sound guy hours before the show, but those things only prove how much shit you can handle. The Kiss Off can handle some shit. And if I were you I would definitely go to their show at the Mercury Lounge December 4th.
But I digress.
It was at the end of their set that I let myself look around at the glass coffee tables filled with planted grass and the ceiling with it's undulating waves of crystals and the walls with their strange sporadic lighting and let myself enjoy it for just a little bit. As annoying as it was, it's not often that a girl like me gets to see what's on the other side of those velvet ropes.
- Kastoory
My friends' band, The Kiss Off, was playing for the opening of new green nightclub in NYC The Greenhouse (*joe six-packs, have a beer for every mention of the word green from here on in). It turned out to be in an area of the city made desolate after rush hour.
The band came out to join me smoking and complain about lack of management while we eyed the praying mantis looking she-guard behind the velvet ropes. There was a growing line on the other side of the door and I did not want to be on it. But I was curious to see what an all-green nightclub would look like from the inside (I admired the greenhouse effect outside with glass encased plants, but wondered what would happen when the roots outgrew their casing). Would the toilet paper be organic? Would the ice always be melty to signify the inconvenient truth we live with on a day-to-day basis? Most importantly, would there be any heat?
I discovered no heat when the manager finally strong armed us past the growling bouncer. Inside the lights flickered and the Ting Tings blasted over the speakers. Drinks were *gasp* inducing expensive. Especially for my Bushwick attitude. I nursed one drink and tried to make it count. $12 cocktails, $8 beers, $5 for club soda. My friend with the $5 club soda kept giggling at the ridiculousness. People were a combination of Long Island deep throater and New Jersey glam joker. Thank God The Kiss Off got to go first.
They played some of the newer songs they've been working on, running the gamut from epic guitar and keyboard journeys to rhythm and bass thumpers, either way, they had people push up from the polished pleather booths to dance. It was great to see The Kiss Off let go and flail around in time to their own music. They sounded and looked more confident, like they were having more fun. I guess that's what happens when you have to find your own sound guy hours before the show, but those things only prove how much shit you can handle. The Kiss Off can handle some shit. And if I were you I would definitely go to their show at the Mercury Lounge December 4th.
But I digress.
It was at the end of their set that I let myself look around at the glass coffee tables filled with planted grass and the ceiling with it's undulating waves of crystals and the walls with their strange sporadic lighting and let myself enjoy it for just a little bit. As annoying as it was, it's not often that a girl like me gets to see what's on the other side of those velvet ropes.
- Kastoory
Saturday, September 27, 2008
The kaleidoscope that is my mind
As I write this, everyone and their mother are getting ready for the big debate tonight. Like everyone else, amidst a failing economy and a notoriously divided country, I have begun to feel helpless... and slightly scared. Working in retail barely pays for our studio in Bushwick and freelance photography is, well, free for everyone else but me. So, what does one do when faced with all the dramz of daily bullshit? Drink! Well, and get busy, but a lot of drinking doesn't hurt.
Frustration is a bitch, anyone will tell you that, but unless you use it to your advantage you're a fool. For me, my saviors came in the form of Royal and Kastoory (aka the driving forces behind Pomp & Circumstance). They kicked my ass into gear and gave me the opportunity to stretch my oh-so-creaky artistic legs. And take my word for it. I took off running.
The current issue of Pomp features former ANTM contestant, and my homegirl, Lauren Utter. We met working at the same boutique in LES. Both artists with a deep dislike for our boss and a strong love for cheese fries, it wasn't long before we were spending our days talking shit behind the counter. Long story short, 2 yrs later I'm still at that "stable" shitty job and she just happened to make it on to ANTM. Granted she went as a sort of joke but her success on the show is nothing to laugh at and if you meet her, it's sort of a "duh, of course you should model" kinda thing. How we stumbled into her modeling after all that is sort of a blur, but like any good collaboration, it's neither here nor there, it just is.
By now I'm sure you have picked up the current issue and peeped our spread and I'm sure you are just dying for more tasty glimpses into the world of Pomp. So here, for being amazing enough to read all my silly words, a treat for you. Some shots from the shoot we've been hiding from all of you (and you thought that was it? Buggin!) and a little behind the scenes fun as well.
I can promise you a few things when you check back (b/c you will, we are your digital crack):
1: I promise I won't usually write this much silliness
2: I promise to keep tossin you behind the scenes candy. And...
3: I promise to keep you posted on anything worth seeing. I am now officially your go-to bitch, k?
Your favorite photo girl,
Amanda S.
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