"This Town Needs an Enema"

Philadelphia is changing. For the first time in decades, maybe even a century, we're topping national and international "best of" lists. Buildings are rising, neighborhoods are improving, and national businesses are coming to our front door. We're on the brink of electing a new mayor. We're streamlining civil rights laws. All in all, Philadelphia is becoming one of the best and most relevant cities in the United States.

Of course every time Philadelphia takes a step forward, its worn and tattered sponges start slopping out of City Hall to soak up their piece of the good press. 

Councilman and City Council President, Darrell Clarke, is no exception when it comes to the archetypical politician. He's made a career out of exploiting his voters, stymying productive development in his district, and perhaps worst, not giving a shit what anyone really thinks of him. He's not unique. The sleaziest of sleazy politicos seem numb to their public image. Perhaps they operate under the Kardashian ideal that any press is good press, or maybe they just don't bother Googling their own names. But the audacity and brass balls of our cities most loathed politicians is indicative of personalities completely out of touch with not only their city, but human beings in general. They're borderline sociopathic. 

Philadelphia: Mondays on Fox

Inga Saffron took Clarke to task in a recent article regarding the introduction of a bill stealthily submitted while everyone is focused on the mayoral candidates. As Saffron points out, the bill doesn't look bad on paper. But successful (not to be confused with good) politicians know that bills need to be decorated with bright stickers and scented with potpourri if they stand a chance of passing. Or they just need to be too verbose for anyone to bother reading. 

So what's in the bill? Well, off the cuff it explains why Clarke didn't bother running for mayor. More specifically it reorganizes City Hall to require City Council approval of the city's head of the Office of Planning and Development. Why run for mayor when you can draft your own legislation that essentially grants you so much mayoral power? 

It's hard to understand how some politicians live with themselves. They've either become so detached from the realities of a city that they simply don't see how villainous they're behaving, or they truly are villains. Not to geek out, but at least Gotham's mayor answers to the scrutiny of his actions however evil or unjustified. Our city's worst hide behind dangerous legislature that grants them a pass to the Man Behind the Curtain. 

We have a few good men and women running for mayor this time around, but if Clarke gets his way, there may never be a day in which they are allowed to prove themselves. Our new mayor will be taking the brunt of City Council's decisions with no ability to address the problems they Council will create. Our new mayor won't just be City Council's puppet, they'll be The Whipping Boy standing in for Council's punishment while politicians like Clarke play fast and loose with the future of a city we've worked so hard to fix.

A New Avenue of the Arts

While North Broad Street is technically part of the Avenue of the Arts, much of its presence is in name only. North Broad has found itself hosting every stage in the evolution of the American city. It was crisscrossed by industry throughout the 19th Century, its north central points home to Philadelphia's elite during the early 20th Century, it's been lined with grand hotels, and hosted grand houses of art like the Metropolitan Opera.

Unfortunately it quickly declined following the Great Depression. Its beautiful hotels became flop houses, its mansions were abandoned or burned, while residents left amongst its decline turned to religion, converting the Met into a church and the Divine Lorraine into a refuge for the uniquely devout.

Like much of the city north of Vine Street, officials accumulated vacant land for urban necessities. The Vine Street Expressway sutured the north side of town from its siblings in Center City, exasperating the region's decline. Vast tracks of land were razed for public housing and Temple's campus began to wall itself from its neighbors.

West Philadelphia saw paralleled decline, but its wealthy universities have since helped transform it into one of Philadelphia's more prominent addresses. With the help of interested developers, North Broad Street could soon see a similar renaissance. Bart Blatstein's Tower Place at Broad and Spring Garden has brought new life to a once sketchy corner, new development is inching its way eastward from Eastern State Penitentiary and along Ridge Avenue, and Eric Blumenfeld is securing funding for the rebirth of the Divine Miss L.

But the city is also excited about the potential rebirth of Philadelphia's once great, now forgotten corridor. Councilman Darrell Clarke is working with developers to create a non-profit organization to assist with its redevelopment, including tax abatements and loans to incentivize growth.

Councilman Clarke's LOVE Park

Councilman Darrell Clarke is perhaps best known for his district's acres of inexplicably vacant land and surface parking lots. He has a knack for getting re-elected largely by pitting wars between yuppies pushing lofty condos into his turf and blocks of subsidized residents.

He's a dick. But in American politics, being a dick wins elections.

Why is Philadelphia's favorite building, the Divine Lorraine, still vacant? Ask Clarke. But despite being a thorn in the ass of every private developer who wants a piece of his domain, his latest proposal is a complete departure from the man's effort to keep his neighborhoods looking like the opening scene from Trading Places.

Or so it would seem.

Clarke's LOVE Park

With a Chicago company's recent bid for the LOVE Park parking garage, renovation of the park above is still up in the air. Adorned with the city's Christmas Village, the park is a wonderful place. But eleven months out of the year, LOVE Park is a hobo camp dotted with European tourists wondering what that smell is.

It's Philadelphia, Björn. That smell is Philadelphia.

Clarke's plan wouldn't just clean up the park, it would turn the park's management over to his arch nemesis: Private Investors. Clarke sees a LOVE Park, with its lavish fountain and Robert Indiana's iconic LOVE sculpture, surrounded by seven indoor and outdoor restaurants, cafes, and bars.

It's a fantastic vision. With numerous Parkway improvements in place and a reborn Dilworth Plaza on the horizon, LOVE Park is really the last piece in the Renaissance between City Hall and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It's a great idea, but in Clarke's hands, will we see it?

Clarke is the heir apparent to the Mayor's office. In an all but one-party town like Philadelphia, primary elections determine our mayor. And since only seven people with half a brain bother to vote in those primaries, our city's Democratic party essentially appoints the victor. The Republican party on the other hand doesn't bother sending a worthy adversary to the arbitrary debates. I mean why send your A-game to a fight just to stamp "loser" on their resume?

However, the Philadelphia that has kept Clarke in office since 1999 isn't the same Philadelphia it was a decade and a half ago, particularly in Center City, Northern Liberties, South Philadelphia, and University City. The city is growing, and those moving to the city are educated, informed, and some even know the difference between a Philadelphia Republican and Ted Cruz.

Clarke's plan, if it ever comes to fruition, is certainly exciting. But the plan itself is Poli Sci 101. It's a sophomoric effort to grab some publicity outside his depressed and struggling part of town, an effort that many new voters can smell as easily as that weird poop smell coming up from the cracks between the unglued tiles of LOVE Park.

We likely won't see seven restaurants gracing LOVE Park within the next year and the mayoral election is less than two years away. If Clarke can glide this high into the Mayor's office, will he return to his worn ways and abandon his experiment, or will he cater to the broader scope of the whole city and fulfill the obligations he's laying out?