The arrival of the Bushwick hipster.

even if that parody is serious business and very media conscious. Curious to meet the Grifter I am told that even she eventually became offended by the film crew and had to leave- which only makes me marvel at how brilliant they must innately be…or aren’t.

After stocking up on more beer courtesy of the gallery’s art installation (an ice cooler box stuffed to the gills with grog) we all take one more fag and lean into the wind and hope that we somehow manage to stand upright, which in some weird way is the kind of metaphor that describes the growing vibe surrounding this supposed greater Williamsburg enclave who everyone wants to believe is hipster territory but at best is its own version of a wayward identity- devoid of overt hipsterism. If I was foolish I’d say it’s a bunch of out town outers and a collective of long standing Brooklynities wishing they could imitate their cousins on Bedford avenue who have access to trust funds and time for irony. If $4 cafe lattes count for irony.

If I was to be sincere and clever I would argue that for the most part the people leaning into the wind are somehow in their own way creating a body of work that although no one may care to buy today will hungrily do the day some media gorilla from Manhattan tells them to. In the meantime- it’s everyman for himself and gritted teeth to survive until the masses finally make a trek to this part of town and sink a chunk of money to the tireless souls who have to take the embarrassing jobs of waiters and whatever that the typical artist desists in acknowledging he needs to have in order to survive. If he didn’t he’d move to Williamsburg where he could read Bertol Brecht all day and become a poseur that media sites like Gawker like to take seriously from time to time (although deceased heroin addicts like Dash Snow who’s play money came from the Upper East side are the preferred heroes for the likes of Gawker, but even they will one day will kiss the asses of the drunks in front of me).