Bloomberg thinks we're unfit; we need to cut down on the calories, the smoking, the salt, live better. Yet he wants everyone to park his fat ass down in a patio chair indefinitely, in a space where people should really be walking very fast. He's not a man of troubling contradiction and hypocrisy. He's a man of depth you and I can not fathom.
Here's what the author of Restless thinks. I wouldn't have said it this way, but I basically agree. The man should be given a Times Op-Ed column. He cuts right to the bone.
Here's what the author of Restless thinks. I wouldn't have said it this way, but I basically agree. The man should be given a Times Op-Ed column. He cuts right to the bone.
Where TV viewers and tourists can sit and inhale their transfat-free 3000 calorie Happy Meal without inhaling tailpipe exhaust, and revel in the reflected, throbbing emptiness of that shiny corporate ad mall, that Romance Novel Vampire Circle Jerk House of Mirrors. Where the flagships of all the corporations that own culture are lined up and waiting to ferry us out to sea, where they'll prime us with free cocktails and slot machines quarters, wait till we're drunk and hypnotized, then roll us for every last cent of our cash, identity and dreams before they dump us -- over the New Jersey Trench, full of soggy styrofoam, dirty needles and axle grease -- then turn around and head back to Bloomberg Times Square for a fresh load of suckers...
Below, a picture of Queens Plaza at Northern Boulevard. How about cleaning that up, Bloomberg? Oh, wait, that wouldn't benefit tourists or Wall Street princes. Only citizens. Why bother?
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