Growing up, before I ever traveled there in person, my formative impressions of the New York City of my imagination were shaped by three things:
The gangs, graffiti, drugs and gunplay of movies like West Side Story, and later Superfly or Serpico; novels of the gritty urban experience of '60's ghetto life like "Down These Mean Streets" by Piri Thomas, who passed away just recently; and music by bards of the street like The Last Poets and Gil-Scott Heron who in spoken words and minimal harmonies described the dark core of the Big Apple.
Watching the massive march of a Halloween parade that passed by my apartment on its way up the Avenue of the Americas this Fall, and the lo-fi imagery I was able to capture with my Diana camera of these denizens of the dark, brought back nightmarish memories of this earlier era, when urban legends of LSD-laced candy and razor blades hidden in apples put the trick in trick-or-treat.
Could anything be scarier than....
...a gang of Smurfs?
Enjoy (sort of)!