Hi, I'm Choire Sicha, and the average distance that women in Africa and Asia walk to collect water is 6 kilometers. Oh, sorry, sir -- would you like fries with that?

I'm also the editor of Gawker, a website obsessed to death with Manhattan's media and culture, and a contributing writer at The Morning News. Certainly I do love me some freelance. Enquire within.



Recent essays and stories:

24 Hour Movie People [in Wired]. New York City's 24-hour digital film-making competition, with Xeni Jardin and Aliya Naumoff.



Entertainment, Weakly [in The New York Observer]. An evening with The Believer, in which -- go figure -- I find myself as conflicted as everyone else.



Meet Me On Joey Ramone Place [in The New York Observer]. Sometimes memorials have meaning; East 2nd Street gets a new name.



Chelsea's Crazy Hanging Garden [in The New York Observer]. West Chelsea may get an incredible -- or unincredible -- public park. But what do the landlords get?



French Film, French Film [at The Morning News]. After a decade in New York, every streetcorner, building, and section of the deli will remind you of someone you've been in love with.



Over the River And Through the Sleaze: Corcoran Uncorks [in The New York Observer]. Real estate queen Barbara Corcoran, conceptual artist Glen Seator, and a theory of the gentrification of Brooklyn.



The Media Lunch [in The New York Observer]. The California recall, porn star and candidate Mary Carey, The Day of the Locust, and the media profit centers do lunch.



Ronald Reagan and Reading Proust [at The Morning News]. So heavy hangs the head of she who wore the crown the night before: a three-day diary of literary celebrities, self-loathing, and the Wolfowitz Riots at the New Yorker Festival.



The Non-Expert: Broken Hearts [at The Morning News]. In this everchanging world in which we love in, to misquote Mr. McCartney, people get hurt every day. What we sometimes forget is that people get un-hurt every day too. Let's patch you up and get you back in the game.



The New York City Tattoo Convention [at The Morning News]. In a generation, body art has gone from subversive to suburban, so it now takes a lot more ink to stand out. Geoff Badner and I cover the permanently-etched tragedies that become comedies.



It Must've Been Something I Hate [at The Morning News]. I spent three days recently in New York City's prison industrial complex Criminal Court, being judged on whether I was the right person to judge others in a series of unseemly trials. Join me on an in-depth tour of jury duty in Manhattan, won't you? Just pass through this metal detector, check your politics at the door, and come on in!



The Complicated Art of Chelsea [at The Morning News]. Don't get me wrong: my middle name is Art. No really, after my grandfather. Anyway, I love the the stuff... or at least, I did. Join me on a three-hour tour of West Chelsea's art galleries.







block Saturday, December 27


 Recently I was invited to spend the night with two lovely ladies, writer Xeni Jardin and photographer Aliya Naumoff. We didn't sleep for a day and a half! Oh, the hilarity. Anyway, the result: a documentation of the 24-hour digital movie-making contest here in New York. To celebrate, here's a shot of Xeni, who by that point was powered solely by espresso and her iron will, stealth-discoing our non-sleep-deprived editor Rob at the Wired offices.

[24-Hour Movie People, Wired, January 2004]

stealth disco
⊕

block Friday, December 26


 Two great essays on Christmas, one on the pleasures and history of New York at Anil's and one on the slow disaster of family at Ernie's.

Me, I got the Christmas spirit very late on Christmas evening, but still in time to really, really get it. Thanks everyone, thanks everything. ⊕

block Wednesday, December 24


 Dear Everyone to Whom I Would Like to Write and Haven't and/or Can't:


7:45 a.m Sunday I woke up with the ugly TV at me -- always a horrible feeling, a greasy, junkie feeling. I came to at the scene in The Killing Fields where Dith Pran falls into a muddy Khmer Rouge pit crowded with the gushy spread of hundreds of human corpses.

That sets the tone well. Ka-bonk!

My life has become remarkably (particularly for tell-all tabloid me) private. 2003 zagged oddly from living very publicly to conserving my -- and more often others' -- privacy. At year's-end, I'm standing mostly A-OK, and around me some serious deadly shit goes on and I am, and concretely feel, powerless to do much about it.

I'm at the edges of some horrible, some astounding, and for now all absolutely untellable stories.

And so, slam shut the year! Wish there'd be some closure, but instead there'll be plenty of '04 wrap-around. 2003's been an awkward concert of self-involvement, concern, mistakes, boundaries, empathy, extreme pain and joy, and of course an absolute, unhumanizing discipline.

I went so far into busy that I've come out the ass end of the year almost ineffectual. For Christmas, I have twelve word-fat books here to speed-read through with a highlighter (purple!) and some post-its (pink!). Edits to digest. Phoners to phone. I've deliriously chomped off bunches.

I'm just masticating (har har) day and night. My teeth are getting dull. And now I'm flailing my arms like a stupid ugly bird. And from what I've heard, things have been wicked rough for you too. Well, you'll be okay; as long as we maintain our honor among cultural thieves.

So I'm gonna tell you some things next year that'll fuck you up, but in a good way. I hope.

And for that, maybe missing you will be worth it. My best wishes from semi-, demi-, hemi-exile. And if you want a copy of my music from 2003 CD, let me know, I'll burn you one. Wild phrase, huh? I'll burn you one.

/s/
cas/hs
12/24/03 ⊕



the xml feed is here, and if you really must, you can delve into the past here.
thanks for spending a moment with me. perhaps you'd enjoy seeing who i see:
my girl gang will totally cut you:
→blaise →elizabeth →jennie →jonno →lance →leslie →meg →philo


gangsters from the block:
→aaron →anil →ariel →ernie →faustus →lisa →lockhart →mom →nick →richard →steve


join me for a meeting in town hall:
→gothamist →the morning news →world new york


clock some mofos who can write:
→alison →bob →dana →dong resin →mary →matthew →michael →mimi →skot


about this site:
©2000-2003, choire sicha. i use blogger for posting automation. the rest is handcoded by my squirrels. i am hosted by kinetic medium. this page is validating css.




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