Wendell Jamieson’s essay in last Sunday's NYT’s travel section is the antithesis of Fucked in Park Slope. “Why’s that, because it’s actually well written?” you might ask. Funny, dick. No. Jamieson walks through Brooklyn and sees it with a loving eye, talking about what he thinks are positive changes and pointing out old businesses and cultural centers that still thrive here. And he’s completely earnest. We, on the other hand, tend to come at it like a bunch of immature assholes who can only express ourselves sarcastically. We talk shit about every new idea and whine when we can’t have something we didn’t even care about until we were told we couldn’t have it.
When Jamieson says “Brooklyn has come to represent: stylish yet relaxed, ironically embracing its industrial roots,” he generally means it in a positive way. “Of course, there are more than two Brooklyns, and it’s impossible to visit or name or know all of them... But these worlds feel in sync now. I wonder how long it will last,” the motherfucker writes later in the essay, as he actually enjoys living in the present and seeing the good in things.