Population of New York,
Pursuant our new citywide policy of cancelling everything based on the idea of weather, the following theoretical disasters will now result in immediate cessation of the municipality of New York City (proper). Please contact Live Nation for all refunds. Refunds will also exist only within the realm of the imagination.
Tornado Warning: A sunny disposition and a wry take on relationships is not the only thing that Taylor Swift has brought to our city. As she is from (we guess) the Midwest, and, as we now have a citywide directive to make her more comfortable than any other citizen, the city has petitioned to be made an honorary member of "Tornado Alley." The combination of the violently rotating air that is perpetually emitting from Donald Trump’s tornado hole will combine with cumulous body of work that is 1989 and theoretically produce vortexes of imaginary wind. Everything is cancelled.
Alligator In Sewer Warning: Like all urban myths, the Alligator In Sewer should and will be taken by all city officials as prophecy. As entire neighborhoods in all five boroughs are populated entirely by members of the National, panic is the only logical response. Make all the beard and kale jokes you want but those teeth are sharp probably and therefor all DJ nights with tasting menus between now and 2025 are cancelled by order of the Office of The Mayor.
Biblical Firestorm Warning: First Deputy Mayor Tony Shorris saw balls of liquid flame hurtling from the heavens. Upon further review, said fireballs were determined to be the glint of light from a piece of tinfoil carried by a solitary squirrel. Having the public’s safety as a paramount concern however, the mayor has decided that all bars below 14th Street are to be closed indefinitely and be replaced by squirrel resistant homes for ex-cast members of the popular Netflix sitcom, "Friends". Mr. Shorris says, "Ross is cool."
C.H.U.D. Warning: Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers, forced out of their irradiated lairs by NYU’s need for dormitory space and failing to procure any of the open intern positions at Captured Tracks, have returned to the bad old days of dining on teacup dogs and oogles. Or maybe Dante is just going through a Daniel Stern phase. Either way, we’re not taking any chances. All subways and the basement band room of Mercury Lounge closed.
Various Plague Warning: Whether it’s locusts or EDM party promoters, the City Of New York is on constant alert for threats to our infrastructure. All New Yorkers, both native and delusional transplants, should remain in a perpetual state of panic over the changing nature of their surroundings and, at all costs, avoid becoming “lit.” Brunch is cancelled until further notice.
Flood Warning: It happened recently and will definitely happen again. Probably right now. The lines to Whole Foods will be submerged in East River murk as artisanal ukulele players recreate the cover of that They Might Be Giants album. Citizens are encouraged to prepare by deleting all unnecessary photos from their phones.
Bodega Cat Uprising Warning: Cats, nature’s libertarians, have long bristled at the confines of shelves overstocked with skunk Corona and Galactic Snacks. No longer are they content to be called “Fella” or “Nacho.” Now they prefer “Boss Kitty.” This is entirely plausible and therefor being on the streets after dusk will result in a fine of no less than $150. Bike messengers please take note: any nonemergency vehicles that could conceivably be mistaken for a feral cat will be shot on sight.
Interpol Being Traded to Los Angeles Warning: Despite Paul Banks’ professed love of New York hip-hop and despite, or perhaps because of, the band’s well-documented trauma with adverse winter conditions, the Offices of The Mayor has every reason to believe that New York’s pride, Interpol, plans to move to the Coachella grounds for good. To sweeten the pot and convince them to stay there is hereby a citywide ban on all other bands sounding anything remotely like Joy Division. Ugh, fine…The Chameleons. The Office Of The Mayor loathes pedants.
The Return of "Real" Hip-Hop Warning: The Office of the Mayor doesn’t know what this means but enough irritating people discuss it that we’re sure it’s bad. As a precautionary measure, The New School at Parsons will be indefinitely shuttered.
Wind Warning: A slight breeze against our cheeks, like the handing over of payment to Charon, ushers in doom, endless doom. Bill felt a fine mist on his windbreaker and the city is responding accordingly. Your DIY show is cancelled. Your reading of maritime poetry is cancelled. Need to work late and live in the Bronx or Queens? Eat shit, pal-o. We’ll kick Steve Dunleavy’s ghost in the nuts before we let The Post drag us for this. Move to Connecticut if you want food on the grocery shelves so bad.
New York City No Longer Being the Center of the Known Universe Warning: Perhaps, judging by social media, the most fabulous of disasters, but we are prepared. Henceforth, everything but designated centers for the discussing of whatever minor calamity is currently inconveniencing our residents will be closed. Episodes of Girls, for the purposes of replenishing our tax base, will continue to air.
Patrick Lynch Warning:Very real. Fucking run.
Again, because of the impending threat of anything, New York City will be closed until further notice. In the meantime, please enjoy repeated viewings of The Taking of Pelham 123. Walter Matthau is a pip.
Sincerely Your Mayor,
Bill "#deblassiosNew York" De Blasio