Bloomberg to Racist EMT: ‘Learn How the Internet Works’

Have you gotten a good chuckle yet about how the New York Post made this big dumb cue ball of an FDNY employee weep and wail when they confronted him about his racist Twitter screeds, written under the alias “Bad Lieutenant” and an avatar of Hitler? Because this is schadenfreude at its guilt-free best. Anyway, leave it to Mayor Bloomberg to miss the point.

As the Post reports today:

“I don’t understand why people don’t understand that anything you write, anything you send out is going to be re-tweeted, re- Facebooked, re-this, re-that,” Bloomberg said one day after EMT Lt. Timothy Dluhos was suspended for 30 days without pay as the FDNY probes his postings. … Bloomberg offered this Internet-age version of the Golden Rule: “Write down, No. 1, only things you believe, and, No. 2, think about how it would look if somebody else sees it.”

Um, what the shit? Pretty sure this dude’s problem was not that he failed to follow rule No. 1. And: think about how it would look? WHAT ABOUT JUST NOT BEING RACIST, THEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT WHICH OF YOUR TOXIC BELIEFS ARE ANATHEMA TO SOCIETY. I just can’t believe that reeducation on retweeting is supposed to get us anywhere on the basic human empathy front—though trying to confine casual sexism to Reddit is going pretty well, I suppose.

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Bloomberg To Hillary Clinton: “All This Will One Day Be Yours”

New York mayor-for-nearly-life Michael Bloomberg, the Times confirmed yesterday, encouraged secretary of state Hillary Clinton, who is departing her current post, to run for his position in 2013, insisting that she’d be ideal in the role. Hillary, in rebuffing that advice (threat? offer to pay for a coronation ceremony?) set in motion a Shakespearean political drama.

Because as Hill Clinton “retires” to upstate New York—or maybe Clinton Hill, if she feels like making things extra confusing—Bloomberg will continue to look for someone to back as his successor better than the “Christine C. Quinn, the City Council speaker, who cleared a path for his third term by backing a change to the city’s term-limit law.” That kind of dynasty looks pretty shady, no? So he’ll be getting Macbeth-level desperate to secure his legacy and continued power.

Meanwhile, Hillary will be plotting her 2016 run for president on the tail end of Obama’s miraculous economic recovery and realize that she’s going up against Jeb Bush. Who the fuck needs to go to war with the rival clansmen again? At the eleventh hour, the Clintons ride into Manhattan to Bloomberg’s rescue. Together the three of them rule the islands of New York as a sovereign state, a Vatican City of neoliberalism. Heck, they might even decriminalize big sodas. 

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Watch Mayor Bloomberg Perform a Broadway Number with Nick Jonas

New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg is known to don a Broadway costume and bring out his singing voice each year during the city’s Inner Circle charity dinner, and last night was no exception. Bloomberg performed alongside How to Succeed in Business Without Even Trying stars Nick Jonas and Beau Bridges in a custom-tailored spoof of the hit Broadway show. Here’s "How to Succeed by Bloomberg."

You were a great sport, Mayor Bloomberg, but I wouldn’t recommend quitting your day job (not that you need the money).

Now It’s Serious: Mayor Mike & the Yankees

Now it’s serious. The re re-election of Michael Bloomberg seemed inevitable until actual election results showed it to be a close call. Although most people I know would have thought he did a great job if he went quietly into the night after his second term, the “redefining” of the election rules allowing him a third term left most squirming. Back in my poli-sci college years — yes, we used stone tablets, and Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble were my dorm-mates — we thought that the best form of government was a benevolent dictatorship. Well, let’s hope that is correct, for we certainly have one now. Mayor Mike has certainly been better for clubs than Rudy Giuliani, but despite what most people believe, I say Rudy was way better than David Dinkins. Under Giuliani, there was at least a dialogue, and business considerations were … considered. You could get the ear of someone making decisions. It wasn’t always perfect, but it wasn’t usually a disaster. The Dinkins administration was a mess. Community groups and special interests rammed through their agendas, and as I remember it, nightlife fell victim to this bureaucratic anarchy.

The last year under Bloomberg, club life has been better for most. Some clubs, such as Pacha, seemed to be under constant attack by the city’s bulldogs, but a day in court cleared things up, and Pacha thrives once again. Clubs, bars, and fusion restaurant/lounge joints have sprung up all over in the last year as a working relationship between the nightlife industry and the municipal gods seems to have been brokered. A new state liquor authority honcho seems to pave the way for better times. Even community boards, normally a rubber stamp “no” to most new license applications, have mellowed out as of late.

Bloomberg’s monumental act banning smoking in 2003 had more side affects than the secondhand smoke banished by the legislation. As smokers poured out of the clubs and into the streets to enjoy a smoke, neighbors were treated to the loud idle chatter and laughter of revelers outside their windows. Clubs’ security guards have proven ineffective in curtailing the noise, and this conflict needs to be addressed. What I would like to see happen during Mayor Mike’s third term is firstly the allowance, finally, of the “paid detail.” Banks, shoe stores, even private events can hire a uniformed police officer under the “paid detail” program. Clubs have been denied access to these officers, even though they could greatly improve relationships between joints and their neighbors. A man or gal in blue can order a cab to stop honking, he or she can convince loud patrons to keep their banter to a whisper, they can stop disturbances from escalating to a brawl, and they would be a protective entity on blocks deterring pickpockets, litterers, and even those who might want to take a quick tinkle on a lamp post. In the past, the administration cited possible corruption of their officers and denied the availability of the paid detail to night spots. Let’s hope this is reconsidered.

Secondly, the repeal of the nuisance abatement act. Cops go into places undercover, purchase small amounts of drugs, go to court, say that the club is a clear and present danger to the public, and get a judge to shut the joint down. This always happens on a Friday night, so clubs lose their weekend revenues and are therefore punished before a hearing decides the value of the police action. Under this administration, clubs can be shut down and harassed without due process. Armies of city officials basically invade clubs in the middle of a night. Flashlights are pointed in taxpayers’ faces, IDs double-checked, bars inspected for violations, fruit flies are sought out, pounds of paperwork are meticulously pored over. All in all, it’s a very police-state-like happening. The resulting tickets often result in serious fines, suspensions, or even closure. Now, there certainly is a need to regulate nightlife. There are bad eggs operating out there. Here’s hoping this new term brings fair play to the administration of nightlife.

Now it’s serious. The Yankees are back home and need to end this thing. From a nightclub point of view, the fall classic is not a great thing, as games go late and everybody is watching. If they win, people will go out and celebrate, but most have already hoisted a few at home or at local bars or parties. If they lose, some will certainly want to drown their sorrows, but many will stay home to sulk. I love baseball — in fact, it’s the only sport I watch at all. Back in the day when I would have a place, I liked to talk shop with players who would come by from time to time. Once, a superstar outfielder and his playmates told me that “home field” advantage was a bunch of bunk. He said that baseball players have been hitting, throwing, and catching on all sorts of fields under all sorts of conditions since they were babies. It doesn’t matter if they’re here or there or if the park is this big or that small. For the most part, they’re so synched in, concentrating on the moment, that they don’t notice the yelling or cheers.

The biggest advantage the home team has is they are home with their wives and girlfriends. Players told me the opposing team of young rich studs is out every night whoring and drinking and having a good time. My experience suggests there is truth to this analysis. I have carried all-star pitchers up precarious stairways in questionable states at 5am and watched them flame out on the mound during their 1:30pm start the next day. I saw one hero night after night partying hearty until he couldn’t throw the ball anymore. I’ve seen injured players well enough to get a buzz on, but never returned to the lineup long after their arms have mended. I’ve watched legends falling down drunk at night strike out 4 times the next day while their drinking-mate teammate dropped a foul pop-up. I saw a visiting team centerfielder have nine drinks and be barely able to stand up in the outfield the next day — in the World Series. He went to one knee a number of times while his pitcher warmed up.

I’ve seen rehabbed married idols leave my club drunk with a questionable lady who told me the next day she cut up their cocaine with his credit card. I’ve saved marriages by chasing stripper chicks from players’ tables because wives were “coincidentally” showing up for a dance. Clubs don’t burn their sports stars. I’ll never tell which three Hall of Fame quarterbacks dropped their pants while dancing on tables and wagging their willies to the DJs offerings. We need our stars to be above all that. We need them to be the purist warriors. Now it’s serious. The World Series game 6 will keep many of us home tonight. It’s a great opportunity to get a meal at that hard-to-get-in restaurant which might be impossible after the boys of summer have gone.

New York Falls for Water

Danish-Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson is taking over New York. His exhibit “Take Your Time” currently spans MoMA and its edgier Queens appendage, P.S.1. His work is included in the recent Icelandic Art exhibit at the Scandinavia House. And his Spatial Vibration show Tanya Bonakdar Gallery just closed in early June.

And now he’s got these waterfalls. Don’t even pretend you haven’t heard of them. They’re 90 to 120 ft high, and there was so much fanfare in the weeks leading up to their unveiling yesterday that we wanted to be able to brush it off the way we brush off Mary-Kate sightings.

But truthfully, they’re kind of cool. Even cooler than Mike Bloomberg’s last pet project, Christo and Jean Claude’s The Gates in Central Park. The Gates never had a hydraulics designer, and there’s something about water that everyone can relate to (we are, after all, mostly composed of it). And while we probably won’t want to be caught in their spermicidal spray, it’ll make many a weekend picnicking by the East River that much more pleasant. They’ll be up through October.