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The San Franciscan's Guide to New York Neighborhoods

So you’re moving from San Francisco to New York. You liked your cute neighborhood and tasty burritos and you hope to replicate this existence somewhere in the Big Apple. Well kiddo, that’s impossible. Everyone knows there is no such thing as a good burrito in NYC.

This was the fate of a friend of mine a few weeks back. When she described her desires to a broker, this broker responded with, “you’ll probably like Williamsburg.” So this friend gets in the broker’s car and heads over a bridge to another part of town. Her reaction, later over email: “I expected it to be cute. Williamsburg is not cute.” Yes, Williamsburg is definitely not cute. It’s sort of like the Mission, and I’m sure almost anyone from SF would agree that the Mission is also not cute....

(Courtesy of Cameron Marlow at Yahoo. See also: Manhattan Elsewhere at kottke.org: The Errant Isle of Manhattan at RadicalCartography.net.)

The things you find when you least expect them

Instant badfic. Just add adjectives. (And a few other parts of speech.)

The Lunatic Stranger

The sun was high and the trees stirred lightly in the breeze. Nita strode along the path, making for Hardy Castle with all speed. Hidden from the eyes of man and beast, she carried the Amazing Hippopotamus, which no other must touch until it could be delivered into the safekeeping of the Wizard Eye.

A rustling of the dried leaves beside the path gave her warning and she drew her abundant chicken just in time to face the terrible man who flew at her with such grace that she was almost dazzled.

The man struck utterly, and Nita barely raised her chicken to meet the attack. They fought long and unhappily until all the air rang with the sound of their conflict.

At last, Nita found herself forced to one knee, the man's chicken pressed to her naive nose. "I am Ronan of Hardy Castle," he said. "You are an unworthy guardian for the Amazing Hippopotamus. Prepare yourself, for I am about to send you across the street."

But Nita had been waiting for such a chance and, bringing up her chicken with a twist, overpowered Ronan and pinned him to the ground. "What say you now?" Nita said, looking down upon him.

Ronan's leg shimmered like waves rushing to the shore. "I have underestimated you, Nita. I was sent to test your fitness for this task. To you I pledge my loyalty...and more."

Nita's desire was enflamed. Her nose throbbed and all her thoughts were to whack Ronan like a coelocanth. Nita caressed Ronan's wicked leg and he responded. They came together indubitably, and their joining was as resplendent as their battle, and also much louder.

"Ah, my sweet banana!" Nita groaned and whacked Ronan as bizarrrely as she could.

"Ouch!" he yelled. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh," Nita said. "That's where I put the Amazing Hippopotamus for safekeeping. Sorry."

When they had finished their romp, they drowsed desperately on the grass, forgetful of all but their fragrant love. "We will stay together forever," Ronan said, and they began all over again.

And so it was that the Wizard Eye never got the Amazing Hippopotamus and the forces of evil overwhelmed the land and nobody was happy ever again, at least until the sequel came out.

UH huh.

Today's coined word: Literothanatophobia

Or, "The fear of death in literature."

A British book retailer plans to set up a counseling hotline for all heartbroken fans of Harry Potter, in case he dies in the much awaited next book.

As a former psychiatric professional, I can kind of see the point.  ...But I do start wondering, sometimes... Are human beings actually less robust, more fragile, than they used to be -- or are we just being encouraged to believe we are? 

And I remember clearly the resilience and fortitude of my younger patients as compared to the so-called "adults". The kids were endlessly more pragmatic and better at handling pain than the grownups. Any bets on the percentage of over-eighteens who wind up being counseled, as opposed to the under-eighteens?...

Leave it to Cleo

Cleolinda has a gift for finding the right word. Or, when necessary, inventing it.

Like the new word for July 21, 2007:  Potterdämmerung.

(Edit: and now I see that I'm shortsighted as well as nearsighted. The usage goes back to at least 2005: behold the earliest incidence I can find, by the original coiner [or friend of the coiner], dragonscholar.)