When Jared Kushner isn't busy firing some of the city's best reporters, insulting the remains of his staff, or taking the "sloppy seconds" approach to venture capitalism, he might be too busy to seek help in one of the New York Observer's more neglected blind spots: Equine Relations.

Lo and behold, then, the Heroic Destiny Squad, who thinks they (or he) can be part of a symbiotic relationship with the Observer regarding the salvation of the horses who escort tourists through Central Park on buggy rides. And also, because Kushner's a Jew, he already works for this dude. Your front-running nominee for Totally Batshit Correspondence of the Year, we present: the New York Observer's Crazy Horse Guy.

From: Justin Massler
Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2009 07:45:11 -0400
Subject: Important Message for All New York Observer Reporters

Good day reporters of The New York Observer, would anyone like to help save horses on this fine summer day?

I will explain the situation I am writing in regards to.

As some of you may know, many horses are currently imprisoned as slaves being forced to pull carriages in Central Park for the amusement of tourists.

My name is Justin Massler and recently I was appointed by Angels to be the King of the Jews in the tradition of previous Kings such as Moses, David, Solomon, and Jesus.

I have been ordered by the God of the Jews to free the horses who are enslaved as carriage pullers in Central Park for the purposes of restoring freedom to the lands, much like how Moses himself had to free the Jews from their enslavement in Egypt so many years ago.

I have decided to commandeer The New York Observer for this purpose which I can do since it's owned by Jared Kushner who is a Jew and therefore one of my subjects which makes his properties subject to emergency commandeering if it is deemed necessary for Divine Purposes.

Anyways, does anyone want to help with this cool elite mission of animal rights heroism? We can use The Observer to launch a propaganda campaign to ban horse carriages and influence public opinion against this unjust practice.

I am therefore recruiting reporters from this paper to take part in this noble cause.

The website of my hero team is http://www.heroicdestinysquad.com/ so you can see that I'm legitimate and not just making this stuff up.

Hopefully someone will respond to this in a positive manner and I won't just be ignored by every single person like has happened to me before in the past which is a depressing thing to have happen, but I suppose such are the trials heroes such as myself must endure in our quest for justice at any cost.

Sincerely,

Justin Massler

President of Heroic Destiny Squad

http://www.heroicdestinysquad.com/

P.S.

Also, does anyone know Jared Kushner's phone number or personal e-mail address? Or better yet, does anyone know where he hangs out?

I figure since he's the owner of The Observer I can commandeer it more quickly if I just get Kushner to agree to this plot himself.

I tried sending him a message before but I think he's trying to avoid me even though I'm his King which is like how sometimes kids try to hide from their parents. Is it true he lives at 21 Astor Place above the Starbucks? If so I can just try to find him at his house and talk some sense into him.

If anyone can give me any info on where this guy can be found it would be much appreciated.

Cheerio.

He is legitimate and not making this stuff up. Moses sent him! Or something.

He is also scary and possibly insane, and this is the kind of stuff we get routinely, too! Good to know all publications of all stripes can still find common ground in the batshit people who take time to write them this kind of stuff.

A Tisch student named Danlly Domingo has sent us a photo, of a behatted Mia Thermopolis—along with other members of the cast—offering slices around to the weary-but-committed ticket hopefuls.

Sure this might have been some carefully orchestrated PR thing—even though it was the last day of Twelfth Night, Hathaway will return to the New York stage in Promises, Promises and possibly a Judy Garland musical—but who cares. It's still pretty cool that at 3am the morning before her big final performance, the actress came out to say a gracious thank you to devoted theatergoers.

Good things do happen in New York! And sometimes, just sometimes, they involve celebrities. Give us your hat so we can tip it to you, Anne.

Brian Dooda, a Brooklyn film archivist, was riding his bike on East Dr. in Central Park at about 5 p.m. on Thursday when he says a grey SUV cut him off, nearly swiping his front tire. Angered, Dooda caught up with the car, which had "NYP" license plates designating its driver as a media representative, at the next red light. He positioned himself in front of the SUV and told the driver to slow down and observe the park's 25 m.p.h. speed limit. Here's what happened next, according to an account Dooda gave to the NYPD and posted on a cycling message board:

The driver then accelerated, lunging straight into me, knocking me and my bicycle to the ground and to the left side of his car. I quickly got to my feet and positioned myself in front of his vehicle to prevent him from fleeing the scene. I called out to bystanders to call the police and yelled at the driver that he was insane, he just hit me, and he can't leave. The driver again accelerated into me, with no intention of stopping, forcing me, prostrate, onto the drivers side hood of his vehicle. Riding precariously with a 4,000 lb wheel inches from pulling me beneath it, I screamed for the driver to "Stop!!! Please Stop!!" over and over. He continued to ignore my pleas for some 200ft. keeping a steady 5 or 10mph. He then stopped suddenly allowing me to fall off the side of the hood. Just as quickly as he stopped he violently accelerated again knocking me to the side. This time I managed to stay standing. The driver then sped off Northbound. At this point several witnesses came to my aid and reported his license plate.

Dooda emerged from the ordeal with only a scraped elbow, but another poster to the message board who claimed to witness to the incident, painted a pretty scary picture. (In fact, it was her post that originally prompted Dooda to come forward with the statement he gave to police):

It was a bizarre sight ... a cyclist was on the hood, shouting at the driver, to please please stop the car. That cyclist kept shouting to the guy to stop, he was saying/shouting, "You could have killed me. Stop, Please stop. This is my life." something like that. We saw his bike in the road, left behind, as the SUV drove on, with the cyclist on his hood.

When the cops arrived and told Dooda that the "NYP" plate meant that the driver who nearly killed him was a journalist, Dooda told Gawker he joked: "I wonder if he's from Fox News, because he was such an asshole."

He was!

Gawker tracked down the driver, Don Broderick, who says he is a news writer for Fox News (he was formerly a reporter for the New York Post). When we first called him to confirm that he was the man to whom the vehicle that dragged Dooda for blocks was registered, Broderick said, "I don't know what you're talking about," and asked if he could call us back. A couple hours later, he called to acknowledge that he was indeed the driver, but said that he was the victim of a "vigilante" bicyclist who had attacked him: "Whatever this guy is claiming, there's no truth involved—he punched me. And I left, because he was attacking me."

Dooda says he never laid hands on Broderick, whom, he says, stared with "cold psychotic intent" while Dooda was on his hood, and answered his pleas to stop with shrugs of the shoulders and the occasional "get the fuck out of here."

"He wasn't like hanging out the window screaming 'you fucking pussy!'" Dooda says. "He spoke with his car."

Both men agree that the altercation started because Dooda was riding his bike in the left-hand lane at roughly 25 m.p.h., which caused a line of ten or so cars to back up behind him. Broderick's was the last car to get around him, which is when Dooda says Broderick tried to send him a message by abruptly cutting back over into the left lane in front of him, coming close to his tire. "He initiated the whole encounter by almost running into me," he says. "I'm sure he felt like I was antagonizing motorists because I was in the left lane riding a bicycle. But did I attack him? If he considers me pointing out that he is an aggressive and dangerous driver to be an attack, yes. Otherwise, no."

No matter who started it, actually hitting someone with your car, and then hitting them again, and then dragging them on your hood for 200 feet, and then driving away can't be legal! Dooda, who was only slightly injured with some scrapes and bruises, filed a police report with the Central Park Precinct, and says a detective has been in touch. Broderick says he hasn't been contacted by the police, and an NYPD spokesperson couldn't immediately confirm that an investigation is underway.

New York Press license plates are issued to members of the working media who can demonstrate that they are employed by a news organization—in Broderick's case, Fox. They let reporters park in special reserved spots in New York City and avoid tickets for illegal parking if they're actually covering a news story. They also let road-ragers get tagged as media employees, which sparks the interest of bloggers.

A Fox News spokeswoman didn't immediately return calls for comment.

[Illustration by Steven Dressler; if you have actual photos of the incident, please send them our way.]

And his wife responded, "She said she likes daddy's show." Very nondescript and laid back.

(Sheep Meadow in Central Park, above, via)

Bryant Park. via

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Sheep Meadow. via

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The Twinks of Sheep Meadow, via

The Extra-Dirty Twinks of Sheep Meadow, via

He was walking with a female friend with black hair. He seems (as usual when you see stars in reality) a lot smaller in person. Very cool and relaxed. He looks great.

She looked amazing yet normal as the wind kept blowing her shawl off her shoulders. I was walking the same way as her up until 58th Street where she went down Broadway.

[pic via NYT]

This is where all little uptown girls learn how to ride and where their mothers' hair turns grey to the naked eye as their little princesses get bucked off. They also rent horses by the hour to ride in Central Park. Who is going to use the Bridle paths in Central Park now? Will Bloomberg's daughter rent her horses out for canters through the park?

Destination: Central Park Zoo.
Guide: Adriana Vink, baby gentrifier.

I was not aware that New York City was in such a temperate zone. Where I come from, 60-degree days are pretty rare in mid-December — thanks, Al Gore! — so I decided to take advantage of the dog days this week and get outside while the sun was still up. I heard there was a zoo hidden somewhere in Central Park and wanted to check it out, but I also didn't want to hang out there by myself like some loser. So in an effort to seem less creepy, I borrowed a little kid from a friend.

The main attraction at this zoo is the sea lions. In a very un-New York twist, they are clearly visible from outside the fence, so you can watch them from afar without paying admission. What kind of business model is that?

I bought a ticket anyway and went inside, but the sea lions refuse to come out of the water unless they're being fed. See? Even marine mammals understand that no one gets somethin' for nothin'. Not in this city. Adriana couldn't really see them through the plexiglass anyway, so we moved on.

We headed for the polar bear enclosure and suddenly I became quite depressed. It's like staring into a cubicle at Wall Street's most boring bank, only no cube dweller anywhere in this city could possibly hate his life as much as this bear. For starters, it's 58 degrees and sunny and he probably hasn't seen snow in a year. He has rocks to climb on and a diving pool with a waterfall, but he's sleeping on a plastic floor mat and his chew toy is an empty gas can. If all that wasn't enough, a sign on the glass informs us that zookeepers hide his food, so that he has to hunt for it. He's not miserable enough, so you have to make him work for his dinner? I hope they're at least mixing Zoloft in with it.

I watch him for ten minutes and he doesn't move a muscle. I like to imagine that he was dreaming about claws ripping through human flesh. At this point, I'm pretty sure that Adriana doesn't even realize there are animals at this place.

Next is the turtle pond, which is almost as big as the polar bear cage and just as exciting. I believe the Central Park Zoo has more turtles per capita than any place outside the Galapagos Islands. That's them on the log.

Trust me, they're even more vibrant in person. Adriana, of course, didn't see a thing.

The zoo's real strong suit is birds. They have penguins, puffins, swans, parrots, exotic ducks, and some kind of flamingo looking thing, but Adriana was most impressed by the pigeon exhibit, which encompasses the entire park. These guys roam free among the visitors and you can practically reach out and touch them! It's even better than the indoor rain forest, though the birds in there nest right above your head, providing an excellent opportunity to be shit upon.

Our last stop is the children's zoo, where little kids come to stare at other little kids. Seriously, they could save a lot of money if they just did away with the animals altogether. Squirrels and pigeons are free, they can feed themselves, and toddlers are only truly interested in each other.

Finally, as we were about to leave, Adriana discovered her favorite part of the whole zoo. It was the only thing that held her attention for more than 30 seconds, and it was all I could do to tear her way.

Goat food vending machines. The one animal no child can resist.

Earlier: Harlem

With regards to "It's All Happening at the Zoo, Especially Racism", please note that the website (www.centralpark.com) has no official connection to the Central Park Conservancy or the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation and does not reflect the views or opinions of the City of New York. The official Central Park website is www.centralparknyc.org.

So the City of New York takes no position on the existence of the secret, English-speaking cabdriver exhibit at The Central Park Zoo.

We're getting into Area 51 territory here, people.

Earlier:It's All Happening at the Zoo, Especially Racism

[Photo: Adorablog]

The new zoo is divided into several different sections which provide the animals with homes as close to their natural habitat as possible. These include tropic, temperate and polar zones that house everything from tiny leafcutter ants to the hugely popular polar bears. The zoo is also actively involved the preservation of endangered species, providing a home for rare tamarin monkeys, Wyoming toads, thick-billed parrots, and red pandas. Rumors of a secret exhibit featuring English-speaking cab drivers have never been confirmed.

Jesus, we must have been out of town the week they announced the hiring of Pat Buchannan.

Central Park Zoo [Central Park]