I lived in Williamsburg (Brooklyn) for 3 1/2 years and would still live there now if the rent hadn’t been scheduled to double. During those years, I never once read more than two sentences of Vice magazine.
The Antic Muse articulates very persuasively the reasons it’s not worth a moment of your time.
Somewhat related: about a year ago I nearly got in a fistfight with a waitress at [name of Williamsburg restaurant expurgated] who was sporting a shirt with the confederate battle flag on it.
It don’t matter that you’re from Connecticut* and “just love the Dukes of Hazzard,” honey.
How about I punch you in the face a few times and then take a picture of it and make shirts that say “Dumb Fucking Bitch” and sell them on Bedford Avenue as an ironic statement about feminism and domestic violence?
You know, kind of post- post-?
* Please note that this is not a slam on Connecticut generally. The waitress just happened to hail from that state.