In which The Gay Recluse suggests a link.
The most beautiful ads are always for dead companies.

Like this one we recently took on 35th Street between 5th and 6th Avenue.

Does this company still exist? We hope not, because we don’t want to have to think about buying anything.

New York City is filled with ads for dead [...]

In which The Gay Recluse reports on monthly traffic whoring metrix to the Board of Directors.
I. Summary
After a record month of whoring in March, we experienced a slight dip in April. But! It was still our second best month on record.
II. Traffic Whoring Metrix
WordPress
Total Views March: 13,957
Grand Total Number of Views: 48,973
Monthly Breakdown

[...]

In which The Gay Recluse leaves New York.

Last month we went to Pittsburgh for a few days.

Even though we “grew up” there, it was almost like visiting a new (as in unfamiliar) city.

We always lived in the suburbs, and almost never went into the city except to see the Penguins!

This time though, we stayed downtown [...]

In which The Gay Recluse documents the ruins of Washington Heights and self-referentially quotes an earlier post.
Date: April 6, 2008
Location: 161st Street between Broadway and Amsterdam

Hello, friendly lion! 100 years ago, you were not such a big deal, but now you would cost $50,000 at Olde Good Things. We’re glad you’re attached to the building; [...]

In which The Gay Recluse photographs shipwrecks lining the Hudson north of the George Washington Bridge.
Time and date of photographs: March 30, 2008 (afternoon)

As usual, there were those who did not survive the winter.

We tend to look at the wreckage with some disdain: “That could never happen to us!”

Yet! There is a mythological allure to [...]

In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station.

Consider the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest shades of gold and silver, all [...]

In which The Gay Recluse turns forty.
Today we received the following note from Harry, a reader in Washington Heights:
Subj: YOU
Mess: It is none my business to know, but! My curiosity is tweaked. Who are you? Have you posted something somewhere to give a more detailed bio? or do I have to continue to read between [...]

In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station.

Consider, if you will, one of the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest shades [...]

In which The Gay Recluse reads a book five years later and says wtf.
Last fall, after we posted our thoughts on the suffocation of the gay voice in American literature, a reader suggested that for the sake of comparison we check out The Yacoubian Building, by Alaa al Aswany, which said reader described to us [...]

In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with The George Washington Bridge.
Time and Date of morning photograph: March 21, 2008, 5:15pm-ish.
Notes: This is the view of the George Washington Bridge from the north, in the remotest and most abandoned part of Manhattan. We see the pilings of an old pier and — most [...]

In which The Gay Recluse rather quickly gets lung cancer.
Time and Date of morning photograph: March 20, 2008, 6:54am.
Notes: One benefit of living in Washington Heights is that it’s truly like the 19th century, not only in the architectural grandeur that splays across the rooftops, but the daily emissions of 100-year-old boilers in apartment [...]

In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with The George Washington Bridge.
Time and Date of morning photograph: March 20, 2008, 6:54am.
Notes: Seriously, don’t these clouds look a little “Poltergeisty”?

Time and Date of evening photograph: March 20, 2008, 6:54pm.
Notes: We appreciate the black smoke, which is so good for our asthma.

“The George Washington Bridge over [...]

In which The Gay Recluse posts an incisive reader comment.
This was left in the comments but we thought it merited a full post because it brings to light several important and interesting issues that are not unrelated to our obituary of Arthur C. Clarke, which — ahem — did not please everyone.
Vikram — a gay [...]

In which The Gay Recluse holds a contest. Sort of.
On the topic of hot gay statues, one of our readers — David from Queens — writes with an important observation/challenge:
Great contest, Gay Recluse. But it would be virtually impossible for our splendid nation to top the statue of Hercules and Cacus (attached) in Florence. I [...]

In which The Gay Recluse thinks about shit on the daily commute.
As we walk through midtown each morning and each afternoon, we often pause to observe a fading silhouette on a wall; while somewhat decrepit, it provides comforting evidence — of a sort we are always on the lookout for — that Andy Warhol did [...]

In which The Gay Recluse takes a field trip to Harlem and makes the case that the city should rezone the shit out of 125th Street.
Lately there has been a lot of press — from Curbed, The Times and others — about the city’s proposal to rezone 125th Street in Harlem. Much of this unfortunately [...]

In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station.

In which The Gay Recluse ponders two photographs of an immense white brick wall and doesn’t regret taking drugs.
Photograph 1: Here we see one photograph of an immense white brick wall. Like 90 percent of the architecture in Washington Heights, it is thousands of years old and on the verge of collapse. Note how [...]

In which The Gay Recluse contemplates four uncommissioned masterpieces from the walls of an uptown subway station and finds evidence of paranoia, conspiracy and entropy.

In which The Gay Recluse scores selected opinion pieces in The Times.
Paul Krugman/A Crisis of Faith
The Short Version: The financial markets are completely fucked and things are only going to get worse.
In his words: “Now, what wasn’t ever supposed to happen has.”
Score: B (Bleak)
This is a good analysis of the latest bad news from the [...]