By
Mike Vilensky
Writer Tao Lin has to live in his 'fridge.
The Times takes a look at a sampling of New York-based twentysomethings living in New York City today. That appears to be the entire premise of the story, though it just so happens that they all live for cheap in small apartments. But what do they really have in common? Ambition. A passion for the arts. Cuteness. And melancholy coupled with a vague sense of optimism. There's a lot of 'em, according to the Times: "New York City was home to nearly 1.28 million people in their 20s last year, up from 1.21 million in 1980." And their homes are smaller than ever: "Battered by the one-two punch of persistent unemployment and the city’s high housing costs, they are squeezing into ever smaller spaces and living in neighborhoods once considered dicey and remote," the paper reports, as if this is sudden. Stefan Rurak, a twenty-six year-old furniture maker in Greenpoint, explains: "I came to New York after college. I never planned on staying this long, but I did various things. It's not that I like New York so much. But things happen here that wouldn't elsewhere."
Let's meet the rest of 'em.
By
Mike Vilensky
One of the ads in question.
Officials at the prestigious Brooklyn Law School rented the school's library to the fashion brand Diesel for an undisclosed fee, "expecting a tasteful photo shoot," because apparently they've never seen a single Diesel ad, and didn't bother to Google it. Shocking: True to its brand, Diesel's resulting ads aren't even Dolce & Gabanna-style suggestive, they're just quirky soft-core porn stills. In this case, the images are a whole bunch of campy, fairly cute library fantasies, featuring "students" wearing underwear reading "Tonight I am your teacher," and mounting each other on bookshelves. (See diagram.) One would think a place like Brooklyn Law might welcome this sexy attention, but no! Some uptight students now claim the ads are "gross" and "embarrassing," and the school might sue the brand. It's not yet determined whether the ads will even run outside the Diesel website, since Brooklyn Law claims they're a breach of contract.
Interim dean Michael Gerber is displeased.
New York's Suzanne Mozes was in negotiations to work with Full Fathom Five, the publishing company created by the controversial author James Frey. (You can read the full story here.) The company ended up rescinding its offer, but not before sending one of its unusually restrictive contracts, which offers authors a mere $250 up front. Veteran publishing attorney Conrad Rippy said he had never seen anything like it:
It’s an agreement that says, “You’re going to write for me. I’m going to own it. I may or may not give you credit. If there is more than one book in the series, you are on the hook to write those too, for the exact same terms, but I don’t have to use you. In exchange for this, I’m going to pay you 40 percent of some amount you can’t verify — there’s no audit provision — and after the deduction of a whole bunch of expenses.”
Read the contract in full.