My night in “Mamdani-Ville”

“A lot of the people here are gone now — they came and moved us out.” So said the woman standing next to a squalid tent residence that has sprung up at the corner of 46th Street and 11th Avenue, on the far west side of Manhattan. Skeletally thin, eyes almost popping out of her wan, sunken face, she’s hunched over trying to light something as I approach. “Jane” (not her real name) looks like she could fall over any second. A strong gust would do the job. But she keeps it together, somehow. We’re across from the Intrepid, the WWII-era carrier that serves as a floating aviation museum, beloved of tourists and younger New Yorkers, like my 9-year-old son, Max. When I visited this area a fortnight earlier — so Max could watch the action-sci-fi classic Independence Day on the deck of the Intrepid