Anarchist utopia has been realized. It's on Walworth Street, in Bed-Stuy, just behind the Home Depot, nestled between a clapboard house and overgrown parking lot. You'll recognize it by the pile of bikes chained outside and the trickle of community members wandering in and out on the otherwise empty block. And, of course, by the black flag with an anarchist "A" flying proudly out front. This utopia is known as the Brooklyn Free Store.

The space came into existence on July 1, and held its official grand opening on September 11. Like a Freecycle incarnate, it's a place where anyone, at any time, can leave something they don't [...]

On Monday night, Pete's Candy Store-on Lorimer Street, in Williamsburg-was packed. Flannel shirts, skinny jeans and thick-framed glasses with people inside them filled every seat, blocked the door and spilled out into the street. Outside the bar, there were two cops wearing "Community Outreach" jackets and also a smattering of Hasidic men. This was because people in Williamsburg really care about bike lanes, and so they had all showed up for a "debate" about a recently-disappeared Bedford Avenue bike lane.

A woman is onstage, dressed as Dolly Parton, leading the audience in a group yodel. Everyone sings and stomps, seated in the haphazard arrangement of chairs and tables scattered through the jumbled room. Records line the walls; antiques, lamps, toys and antique serving dishes that invented to gather dust in your packrat grandmother's basement clutter all available counter space. Christmas lights and dolls hang from the ceiling. Piles of books and records overwhelm the entrance.

Brooklyn had about 12 craft fairs this weekend, with four or five taking place in Williamsburg-Greenpoint alone. There was the 3rd Ward Fair in Williamsburg, and the Hearts and Crafts Affair at Cafe Grumpy, in Greenpoint. These are often grandiose affairs, like Etsy on acid, with DJs and gift bags, and someone serving happy hour-priced mixed drinks and Colt 45 in juicebox-size bottles. For sale, everything from clothing to recession-based holiday gifts, like keychains for keys to things you do not have. It makes sense, of course. With so many struggling artists per capita, why not connect them with the masses desperate to buy that one unique [...]

On Saturday night, about ten men and women in white body paint and blue lips were standing on a stage; they wore knitwear short shorts made from recycled sweaters. Only one was wearing a furry bunny mask but they all held croquet mallets. Surf music played in the background as styrofoam "snow" fell from the ceiling. Then Arthur Arbit bounded onstage holding a tallboy can of Pabst Blue Ribbon and welcomed us all to Williamsburg Fashion Weekend.

Joe is a bearded 24-year-old who tends to wax philosophical. Julian is 18 with a cloud of frizzy hair who plays drums for 13 bands. On a recent Saturday, I ran into both of them at a Bushwick swap meet. This was held in a warehouse. There were 4-dollar Bloody Marys, David Hasselhoff tote bags, used t-shirts and furniture that you could only pray didn't come from someone's bedbug-infested loft. Joe and Julian were monitoring the influx of used CDs at the swap meet's used music section. Neither can remember their first concert, only that they've always been going to shows.