Like the elusive Sasquatch, the Brooklyn Headbanger rarely makes appearances when quality video equipment is present
 
As a Brooklynite, I love him for being a part of the human pageantry that brought me to New York in the first place. I salute his passion, and I defend his public displays of frolic with all my heart and soul. Also as a Brooklynite, if he was ever on my train on a day where I was hungover or even slightly cranky, I would bury my head in my book and hate him… so… fucking… hard.

This is the paradox of New York—the communal nature of our shared space throwing us into an ambivalent love affair with humanity, along with all its potentially irritating, but sometimes jubilantly invigorating weirdness. Keep doing what you’re doing dude; I can’t promise I won’t hate you for it, but I can’t promise I won’t love you for it either.
 

 
via Gothamist