Michael Jackson made the best cinema of 1991 with the music video “Black or White,” which was easily superior to any short or feature-length film released to the public that year. To find a comparable example of visual montage, you have to go back to one of Alain Resnais’ time-shifting études, the marriage scherzo in Citizen Kane or the chase-trial fugue in D.W. Griffith’s Intolerance. I combine musical and filmic values because “Black or White” ’s visionary approach to egalitarianism—ending with a still-miraculous sequence of genetic morphing and counter-balanced by a solo dance of frustration and rage—was a singular feat: Its constant rhythm was accompanied by a stacking-up of thrilling, provocative ideas. Read more

For me, the economic crisis began last April 2nd. “We’re letting you go,” the office manager announced while standing in my doorway, on his way to another, more important meeting. Had it been a day earlier, I would’ve thought he was kidding. Actually, I wasn’t all that surprised. I’d been expecting it. Please don’t confuse that with dreading it: I hated my job. In this particular job’s defense, I’ve hated all my jobs. As an advertising copywriter—“With 14 vitamins and minerals, you can trust Cheerios for a lifetime of wholesome goodness for your whole family!”—that comes with the territory. Read more

A multiracial group mills about, sipping Haitian rum from plastic cups inside a four-story building on Lenox Avenue. The humid spring night marks the first evening of the second run of the “Haiti in Harlem” film series at the Maysles Cinema and Film Institute, and the eclectic gathering includes Harlemites, Haitians, cinephiles young and old and Aboudja, a voodoo priest and drummer who’s been tapped to lead a concert after the film in the downstairs lounge of the pint-sized theater. Read more

Wake up, New York! You’re supposed to be the city that doesn’t take any bullshit, the city that chews up the phonies and spits ‘em out! Are you really going to be bamboozled by a bunch of pseudo-hipsters from Portland, Oregon? Are you really going to fall for Stumptown Coffee? I’m an East Coast refugee myself, having just finished up four years of college here in Portland. I’ve been indoctrinated into its style and, more importantly, its most popular coffee roaster and chain of cafés, Stumptown. Since owner and self-styled coffee guru Duane Sorenson opened his first Portland roastery in 1999, he has overseen a massive expansion throughout the hipper zips of the Pacific Northwest. Read more

While evangelical Christians might claim there’s only one path to getting on God’s guest list—repent your sins and accept Jesus as your savior—I found an easier way, without the repenting and the accepting and the fear of relapse: I’m a New York Yankee season-ticket holder. That’s how I discovered Joel Osteen’s “A Night of Hope” would be barnstorming at the Stadium last month, anchored at second base, flanked by a full-throated choir and televised worldwide. As a secular New Yorker whose phone number was long ago discarded by the faithful fold, I have no interest in disparaging those who seek the comforts of Christian Fellowship, but a worm of wonder did crawl into my consciousness when I received an email from the Yankees announcing the event. Read more Read it in print

Just west of Fourth Avenues longshuttered Brooklyn Tile Supply Corp., along the shores of the Gowanus Canal sits a neighborhood that seems to be waking from its grimy, industrial slumber. Flanked from the east by an expanding Park Slope and from the west by the Smith Street renaissance, signs of change have lately arrived to Gowanus in the form of summertime kayakers who are committed to the revitalization of its murky inland waterway. Read more Read it in print

The economic crisis hit the city like a fat kid belly flopping in the kiddie pool, and I, like many, have been surviving under a cheery banner of strife. In November, I was briefly hired (then fired) as a staff writer for a publishing house in Manhattan. Ever since then, unemployment checks have been my sole source of income. Read more Read it in print

The clienta young woman in her twentieshad opted for a Brazilian rather than laser removal, which is offered for the entire spectrum of skin pigments. Its biracial, Friedman added. Read more Read it in print

1. TEPLITZKY’S, THE CHELSEA HOTEL Feel like you’ve stepped into a Brady Bunch episode. The diner is located in The Chelsea, and the authenticity is frightening—with waitresses looking like something out of Twin Peaks.While the menu offers healthier stuff for breakfast (a protein shake), you can also gobble down chocolate French toast, Belgian waffles or pickled herring on a bagel with a strong black coffee in retro-cool pitchers. It’s probably the most comfortable place to nurse your hangover—far from the ching-ching of the slot machines. Read more Read it in print

A steakhouse, a Chinese restaurant, several bars and a Hilton are clustered near the corner of West 36th Street and Eighth Avenue. It’s a stark contrast to the shuttered storefronts, “For Rent” signs and grungy parking lots further west at Ninth Avenue. David Pincus believes it’s no coincidence that the Theater Building—which houses The Barrow Group, The Abingdon Theatre Company and The Workshop Theater—is situated at the heart of this revived micro-community. Read more