We Agree With You, Di Fara Sucks.

Ever had a band-aid on your hairy arm (or genitals for that matter)? Ever rip that band-aid off? If you're anything like us, that wasn't a lot of fun. And neither is writing this piece. It might even get one of us shot (like that poor boss from Spumoni Gardens) and we've heard that feeling is even more painful than eating a slice from Di Fara Pizza in Midwood. We hate to be the bearers of bad news; especially in a world already full of punch-in-the-gut, downright sad and oppressive bullshit. So we're not going to fire off too many rounds of dissapointment or angry tirades about what a pizza should or shouldn't be. We're just here to offer a little help.

In this case, we feel compelled to mention a simple piece of heartfelt advice: never cave to "popular" opinions. When Charles Darwin presented his ideas to a room full of contemperaries, they scoffed, ridiculed and borderline excommunicated him from the scientific community. As you probably know, the tables eventually turned in his favor and, his contributions to science changed the world forever. So, don't be ashamed when your opionion doesn't match the masses.

We humans are often misinformed by eloquent salesfolk and believable psychopaths of all sorts. It should come as no surprise that we often choose the opinions of least possible antagonism. And who can blame us? Most people are struggling to survive! It ain't easy to provide for a family, pay a mortgage or figure out how to finance a 70" flat-screen-tv with a BestBuy Mastercard and a 400-point credit score. Much less, make self-directed decisions about which ad-fueled pizza blog to believe.

It's ok to be wrong! AND, it's ok to be part of the masses sometimes. Not every opinon of ours is worth dying for, especially not one about a random pizza joint in Brooklyn. But suffice it so say, we've had it up to "here" with this notion that we should celebrate run-of-the-mill flavor or that tax evasion and mouse invasions are N B D. So, this is our measly and unimportant "r/unpopularopinion":

Di Fara Pizza is "eh" at best and, on some days, just down right not even good.

The founder of the spot; late Dom Demarco is held in unquestionably high regard. He handled his haphazard fame and well-deserved fortune with humility and grace. That's the penultimate human existence as far as we know and he is a Saint of the City because of it. However, one man doesn't make a pizza shop great forever and it's time overdue that someone liberate you from feeling obligated to worship this average pizza experience.

It was a beloved and adorable scene while it lasted--some 70-odd-year-old Italian man cranking out 1 pizza every thirty minutes. It was one of those experiences in life like seeing the Great Wall of China or Times Square for the first time. It's enigmatic and impossible to replicate. Certainly his supporters should be proud of the legacy he created. But today at Di Fara, you'll find pizza on par with scores of other regular shops in the city--not quite worth a trip even for the most die-hard pizza fanatic. The shop uses ingredients of fair quality but nothing of noteworthy distinction. It's hard to tell what might've changed from the early days of lore. There's many stories from long-time Brooklynites about what surreal deliciousness once departed those ovens many moons ago. If you go today and you're not impressed; we want you to know you're not alone.

You should be proud of your opinion because you might have a unique idea amongst your peers. You're like Darwin or Tesla or even Dom DeMarco himself. In fact, the New York Times once wrote,

"Maybe Mr. DeMarco is a true contrarian, a guy who does things his way without regard for public opinion."

If there's one thing New York City celebrates, it's the most money-making idea. Sorry, we meant to write "the BEST idea," but started thinking about reality.

Your perspective is your reality. Maybe you deserve to believe in it for yourself. The (once)-highly-regarded Golden Rule might help you win peace of mind and some good karma in life but, when your eyballs are bleeding from reading one too many who-goes-where-why-what-best-char-cup-saucy-yum-yum-doodingy-top-five articles from Eater or Spork; don't rely on Big-Advertising's opinion of reality. You're better off relying on yours. There's no such thing as "the greatest" (or possibly even 'objectivity' at this point) but, there is such a thing as pay-per-click-horse-feathers and you're too smart to believe it all.

In conclusion, don't take our word for it. We're probably biased or dumb (likely both!). Instead, take the undiscovered Q-train on any random weekday, a fucking hour deep into the backwoods of Brooklyn, stand on line for 45-minutes, order yourself a couple slices, pay in god-dam 1978 subway tokens if you don't have cash, and hope they write your name down even half-legibly on the back of that greasy nine-inch paper plate. While you await your reward, we'll be at Lucia, Margherita, or even some lucid 99-cent joint; eating pizza served in the only fashion New York made famous: in, out, and on our way. Because we (and probably you) have more important things to do in New York Fucking City, than pray for an imacculate slice at a blog-struck cathedral of Bread, Tomatoes or Mozzarella-cheese.