For reasons that I’m likely too aged to fathom, the press has anointed as the internet’s premier forum for comment, analysis, and anonymous recrimination. Aside from an oddly alluring logo, I don’t quite understand what distinguishes the visually nondescript site from any other online bellowing hall. Anyway. I suppose it was but a matter of time before our increasingly high profile neighborhood was tossed out onto the dusty Coliseum floor for a ravenous Reddit vetting. Here are some highlights. ———– “Anywhere east of Flatbush over there is pretty scary at night.” “For better or worse, it’s a dangerous neighborhood around there now, and will before a


Screen Shot 2015-08-08 at 10.08.21 AM noted the mass incursion of journalists into the area a few posts ago and the trend continues unabated. A staff writer at the New Yorker magazine – along with his public defender spouse – successfully pitched $1.8 million to corral a comely white limestone on Maple Street at Rogers Avenue. As is policy at, we refrain from naming buyers unless they qualify as public figures. This has become an increasingly elastic notion in today’s climate but we stick to our instincts on this front. If the aforementioned gentleman ever shares couch space with Oprah while pushing his coming of age memoir then we’ll



Pablum dictates that broke artists are always the fat part of the gentrification bat. But there’s another notoriously insolvent sector of the professional workforce that can be relied on to forage at the fringes for manageable rent – journalists. Prospect Lefferts Garden is no exception. With notebooks in hand and insufficient funds receipts in their wallet, Fourth Estate janissaries have rumbled across the Prospect Park plains en masse and planted their pens in the dirt. It’s safe to assume that one out of every three people bibbing next to you at one of the local boîtes works in some form of media. Here is a partial list of news


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The absentee owner of PLG’s most notorious eyesore at 1914 Bedford Avenue finally sold the property to a Queens developer last month for just $250,000, according to records. The bombed out husk at the corner of Fenimore Street has been a graffiti-covered, weed encircled shell for more than a decade and will either be refurbished or razed for redevelopment. If the Yellow King from True Detective ever decided to embrace his inner hipster, this is where he would live. took a few interior shots of the building where trash, triffids, liquor bottles and cackling ghosts conspire to unnerve. The home was one of several stately three-story structures that were



As he’s done for the past half century, Rogers Avenue fixture Charles Clark spent his Sunday afternoon praising his lord and savior Jesus Christ. He’s convinced that those exertions paid dividends a few hours later. As he peacefully reclined in his living room amid Obama calendars and velvet wall maps of the Caribbean, a car jumped the curb outside his home, barreled through an iron fence and punctured the brick wall that separates his bedroom from the sidewalk. “I usually take a nap in there after church,” the shaken retiree told a few hours after the incident. “I just thank God I wasn’t in