Inside the Coke-Fueled Rise and Fall of VICE
Every morning, I log onto TikTok and scroll past a video that triggers my complex post-traumatic stress disorder. Most of these videos consist of a Zoomer skipping down Bedford Avenue to a Dirty Projectors song, past what once were Williamsburg’s hip warehouse clubs and are now Whole Foods and banks. Caption: If I lived in Williamsburg in the 2010s and worked at Vice, I would be the happiest person on earth… Vice would never have hired most of these Zoomers, with their straight hair and HR personalities. Vice would have made fun of them. I would know: In 2012, I was the youngest worker at Vice, making fun of such people. The company formed the most influential and traumatic years of my life. Writing all of the trauma would take a book as long as Remembrance of Things Past. So, here’s a montage of the worst (but also funniest) moments, a montage one could easily set to an LCD Soundsystem song: My boss taking too much Adderall and forcing me to travel America interviewing former Real Hou