Love in the Time of Algorithms
The math here is a little fuzzy, so bear with us as we attempt to untangle this press release we received yesterday.
Apparently, ladies, by not agreeing to go out with men for money, we are losing money! In fact, according to a new website, New York is on the top three “Pickiest Women” list, and we’ve turned up our nose on a collective $5,692,285 last year alone.
Breaking Up is Hard
“A lot of singles said they want to have sex on a boat,” Patti Stanger of Millionaire Matchmaker announced to an audience full of journalists in the Flatiron Hotel on Saturday.
“What?!” Perez Hilton exclaimed over the crowd’s laughter. “Ew!”
The two were taking part in a panel on sex and dating, organized to Read More
“What does it mean to love someone?” 26-year-old Jessica Walsh mused Tuesday on the blog she created with her friend-turned-boyfriend Timothy Goodman. The couple had spent the two previous days at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, where they’d shared a pistachio ice cream cone, wandered through Fantasy Land and romantically sipped champagne while watching Read More
Just because you spend a startling slice of your waking life glued to a screen doesn’t mean you want a computer making complex decisions for you–particularly when it comes to your love life. Most dating enterprises operate upon sophisticated algorithms designed to match people with similar interests, but what’s lost in that digital approach is the ineffable human aspect to matchmaking, someone to look you both in the eye and make an informed match that will send so many sparks flying you’ll feel like you’re in an animated GIF posted to a teen girl’s Tumblr.
Poor G train. Nobody loves it. It’s short, it’s unreliable, it has poor personal hygiene. It lives in a bad area. It doesn’t have as much money as those big fancy Manhattan trains. It rarely gets to mingle with other trains, save for a few illicit southern rendezvous with the F train.
And now it’s Read More
Look at this: Time Out New York finally put faces on those Craigslist personals section, in its new “Single Men Willing to Be Photographed” slide show. We know you’ve had a tough time finding men recently, but we really think you’ll like this Williamsburg lawyer, Aaron. He is a very busy man, what with his bike training (it is what he does “all the time,” which makes us wonder when he does his lawyer work), so make sure you have your own “similar hobby/career/problem.” Because as they say, “similarities attract.”
Also, he seems to have some judgmental attitudes toward his mother’s yoga practice, but that is definitely something you two can work through, right?
The Buddy System
When you spend all day running from subway to subway with your head down, typing on your smartphone or listening to Maroon 5 or whatever you kids do these days, sometimes you miss the small wonders of life in the city. Like this message, posted near the entrance to the West Fourth Street station, offering a chance for “DATING” and “ONE NITE STANDS ONLY,” presumably with a dapper gentleman named either John or Zahn or Sean. (We couldn’t tell from his outgoing voicemail.) I mean, what kind of lady could turn down an offer like this?
(Full image below)
“Have you ever been handcuffed to a radiator?” A young man in a laboratory coat introduced himself to The Observer last Friday evening as we took our seats at the opening of the fall run of alternative singles night, Never Sleep Alone. Our reaction, or lack thereof, must have been transparent. “Sorry, I just need to ask you some basic erotic questions.” Oh, alright, get on, then.
It appeared that the point of this short survey was to detect our sexual energy, translated by the color of a mood mask we were given to wear for the duration of the evening.
The performance took place at Joe’s Pub, the quaint underbelly of the Public Theater—a low-lit, intimate space with a bar at one end, where the more reserved voyeurs sat, and a cluster of tables at the front, where brave singles positioned themselves vulnerably. The champagne flowed, a crucial aphrodisiac for the evening.
It quickly became clear that Dr. Alex Schiller, the sex therapist played by comedian Roslyn Hart, meant business. Dressed in black latex, there was no beating around her bush.
James Deen is the best. We couldn’t be more excited for the male version of Sasha Grey to become a mainstream sensation, especially if he keeps up the hardcore porn and amazing blog entries.
But we’re a little worried that Mr. Deen has been spending time with the wrong influences ever since Bret Easton Ellis announced the cast of The Canyons…
What happened to Playwrights Horizons? Once a bastion of the best and brightest new plays in the New York theater, this noble company has turned into a wobbly showcase for the kind of experimental writing that lives and dies in workshop productions on college campuses in Vermont. Having barely survived a pointless farrago of office politics called Assistance, I have now squirmed my way through The Big Meal, a boring case history of family life as symbolically reflected through three generations of revolting looking menu items that six adults and two children must consume until their plates are empty. The play has been quickly erased from my memory, but the heartburn lingers on.