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Where else would we turn to for a story about Hollywood's colonizing barbarians at Venice's gates but the NY Obserrver? A piece in today's Observer details tensions of artsy locals (and colorful crack smokers) as they helplessly watch their beach paradise be overrun by fleets of Mercedes carrying industry suits looking to snap up overpriced real estate and separate themselves from the differently-flavored yuppies of Brentwood:

International Creative Management agent David Unger had just finished an organic brunch with his fiancée Melissa at Axe (pronounced “AH-shay”) on Abbot Kinney Boulevard in Venice, Calif. They were crossing Main Street, en route to their $2 million Steven Ehrlich–designed loft just off the boardwalk, when he saw the sign: “YUPPIES GO HOME.”

Whatever beach cred Mr. Unger thought he had acquired by relocating from the Hollywood Hills to this bohemian beach Mecca vaporized as swiftly as the morning dew on his black 2005 CLK 500 Mercedes.

“I was embarrassed—because I'm the yuppie,” said the baby-faced Mr. Unger, 33, whose actor clients include Val Kilmer, Mickey Rourke and the allegedly buttocks-grabbing bad boy Christian Slater... “But I moved here to get away from them,” Mr. Unger continued, stabbing at his red snapper. “Now I feel like I'm the generation that's corrupting Venice. And that's heartbreaking to me.”

It's nice to see a Hollywood type with enough self-awareness to recognize that "Yuppies Go Home" sign was directed at him and his ilk; separate signs reading "Agents Go Home" or "Producers Go Home" would unacceptably blight the beachfront landscape. Later in the piece, the quotable Unger goes on to describe the cognitive dissonance brought on by seeing crackheads and Aston Martins side-by-side in his neighborhood, discuss his early fear that Venice was "like the ghetto," and assert that he didn't even know his new home was "cool or interesting" until after he moved there. (We have to ask: Then did he move for the crackheads or a desire to be in "the ghetto" ?) Those quotes follow after the jump.

“There are guys smoking crack in our alley; meanwhile, I've got clients pulling up in their Aston Martins coming to visit me,” he said. [...]

When Mr. Unger, the ICM agent, was looking to move out of his 1920's post-and-beam in the Hollywood Hills four years ago, he says, “I was like: Hollywood or Brentwood?” When his client Mr. Rourke suggested a loft in Venice, he says, “I literally didn't even know how to get to the place. I was scared. It was like the ghetto.” [...]

Asked if he got any 'tude from the old-timers about having a flashy Young Turk on their turf, Mr. Unger said, “Yeah, there's cynicism, I'm sure. But I came here for the very same reasons they came here. And I appreciate it for the very same reasons. And I didn't come here because it was supposedly cool or interesting. I didn't know it was cool or interesting. I only found out it was cool and interesting after the fact.”

Make sure you click through and read the article, lest you miss director Rob "XXX" Cohen describe the feelings of alienation brought about by his Hollywood peers' lack of interest in the morning's surf report.