L.A. Times: One step forward, two steps back

[tags]green la girl, los angeles times, emerald city, christopher hawthorne[/tags]

You go, girl!

Siel is now the Green L.A. Times Girl. Her hard work and insight on her own site, Green L.A. Girl, led her to become the Times’s enviro-blogger on Emerald City. This is a tremendous opportunity for a well-respected and popular blogger. Siel is very active with all things eco-friendly, and her enthusiasm is incredible. Siel has worked with MetroRiderLA on the Silver Streak ride report and the PSFK conference.

MetroReaders, let’s offer congrats to Siel for her new high-profile blog. And from MetroRiderLA, a rose:

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The items on L.A. Times are consolidated on one post, so while we got the positive out of the way first, the tone becomes much darker for the following two items. One pertains to architecture critic Christopher Hawthorne, and the other does not dignify a response other than to note that it is — without hyperbole — a compositional Chernobyl and a crime against journalism, the English language and thought.

MetroReaders, a preface is required, as the following requires an explanation, warning and an apology in advance for what is about to transpire. The explanation: normally, I try my best to avoid cheap theatrics in my writing, as my role here is primarily an informational one. I also have a style that can be best described as pedantic, as entries are typically rich with hyperlinks. This is also because items are designed to be self-contained and readers can peruse links to get background information and context. Also, I use profanities sparingly, not because of my own opinions of profane language, but because some browsers have filtering software that would block readership of sites with certain profane words.

Not here, and not now. The following contains langauge that would lead to this post being blocked on some browsers. The following contains no links and no background, as I feel this is a meme that needs to be actively suffocated, and people who have read the piece know exactly who and what I am talking about.

I have seen bad writing throughout my life. Bad writing comes in many varieties: sloppy, poorly thought out, factually flawed and juvenile. But for the first time I have encountered writing that actually made me feel somewhat ill. The writer even had the gall to affix a byline on something that would have been cute for an alt-weekly hoax story, since it’s expected. It’s not a pseudonym, and somehow said writer passed through the Times’s human resources channels. I won’t say the name of the writer, who for the purposes of this screed will be called Summer’s Eve. Only a serious douchebag could flush out such awful offal as what was written. Considering the level of thought Summer’s Eve put into one of the five worst fucking things the Times ever disseminated to the public in over 125 years of operation, ad hominem attacks are justified and warranted. The work was a pile of shit unprecedented in consistency, volume and stench that you have to wonder and look in revulsion at the asshole from where it sprung. And this was one of those shits that overwhelms the sense of smell, wafts into the throat where it can be tasted and triggers the gag reflex. The shit just calls too much attention to the shitter. The reason why this shit was so offensive was the shitter went on the narrative equivalent of an incorrigible ADHD-afflicted toddler given espressos and Red Bulls by lazy, irresponsible parents and let loose to make a mess and scream at people so all that energy can be expended. Even the most learning-disabled students can’t manage to put a thought forward and then contradict themselves every time they change a part of speech and then backhandeded insult everyone who reads the piece. Now that’s a trifecta of fucked-uppedness: a special-ed douche bag with rancid shit.

I really needed that out of my system. I am sorry, MetroReaders, that you had to go through that.

Now, direct attention to the Times’s architectural critic, Christopher Hawthorne, who recently panned the Wilshire/Vermont Station transit oriented development. Unlike the short-bus fuckpile above, Hawthorne has a more focused, clean criticism and shall receive a more appropriate riposte.

Hawthorne doesn’t care for the multifamily unit complex that replaced the large, bright sunken pit that was the Wilshire/Vermont subway station from 1996 to a few years ago. The spartan courtyard has nothing inviting for subway passengers, and many of the stores there have not opened. He also criticizes the architect for creating a “stucco box trying to avoid looking like a stucco box.”

Hawthorne then goes on to say that the project is uneven, because Wilshire/Vermont betrays Wilshire Boulevard’s history as the “car culture’s” crown jewel. Yet the buildings Hawthorne name-checks as paeans to the automobile (Wiltern and Shatto) incorporate some of the most pedestrian-friendly designs because of their age. These are buildings which are set close to the sidewalk, with main entrances close to the sidewalk. Even on the Miracle Mile. Wilshire/Vermont tries to recapture this, but Hawthorne derides this is as modernist. Is this as modernist as say, the Wiltern’s next-door neighbors on Oxford Avenue; one of which has a giant lawn and the actual building set back closer to Seventh Street, and the other a pair of twin mid-rises that uses a street-level sidewalk to distract people from the obscured office entrances? Not only are these buildings wasteful with land, but they are meant to force viewers to acknowledge their monumentality and kneel before their superiority.

And ultimately, if Hawthorne dismisses Wilshire/Vermont as an unwarranted and poor challenge against L.A.’s car culture, what about the car culture paradox? That is, there’s no need for architecture — and architecture critics — in a city where Wilshire Boulevard is not the typical or even the best example of “car-chitecture” and the L.A. condition is one of Wilshire Boulevard pretensions and strip-mall realities.