Posts Tagged ‘Pickman’
wildly luminous
- photo by Mitch Waxman
In yesterday’s posting, a object d’art was found along Laurel Hill Blvd. At the foot of that ancient byway lies an intersection with Greenpoint Avenue, and the bridge named for it. The street lamps are often utilized by your humble narrator as “something to hide from oncoming traffic behind” and recently I’ve noticed some odd graffiti popping up on them.
Not your usual “gangsta” braggadocio or “tags” nor “ironic hipster commentary”, these involve the bible.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
The scrawl I’m referring to on this pole, which is on the western corner, is not the interesting tidbit about people of Korean abstraction which is written on the masking tape holding the pen- instead it’s the “Sin is the Devil” which caught my attention.
In the American King James version, at least, this correlates to 1 John 3:8
“He that commits sin is of the devil; for the devil sins from the beginning. For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil.”
Hmm.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Maybe I’m just stupid, but Psalms 141.6 doesn’t include the quotation above, which most likely comes from “Romans 5:13- For until the law sin was in the world: but sin is not imputed when there is no law.“
The Psalms quotation would be “Their rulers will be thrown down from the cliffs, and the wicked will learn that my words were well spoken“.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
DUGABO (or Down Under the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge Onramp), it would seem, can now boast of hosting a foe of evil.
Wonder what might happen should they spy the Blissville Banshee as she floats down the Newtown Creek, spy the occultists who make altars in area cemeteries, or wonder at the tales of an antique and quite spectral locomotive passing the Bliss Tower on its way to Deadman’s Curve at Berlin Hill?
Would we see an exorcism in DUGABO?
ALSO, this Friday:
My own attempt at presenting a cogent narrative and historical journey “up the creek” is up coming as well-
Your humble narrator will be narrating humbly on Friday, February 24th at 7:30 P.M. for the“Ridgewood Democratic Club, 60-70 Putnam Avenue, Ridgewood, NY 11385” as the “Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show” is presented to their esteemed group. The club hosts a public meeting, with guests and neighbors welcome, and say that refreshments will be served.
The “Magic Lantern Show” is actually a slideshow, packed with informative text and graphics, wherein we approach and explore the entire Newtown Creek. Every tributary, bridge, and significant spot are examined and illustrated with photography. This virtual tour will be augmented by personal observation and recollection by yours truly, with a question and answer period following.
For those of you who might have seen it last year, the presentation has been streamlined, augmented with new views, and updated with some of the emerging stories about Newtown Creek which have been exclusively reported on at this- your Newtown Pentacle.
For more information, please contact me here.
What: Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show
When: Friday, February 24th at 7:30 P.M.
Where: Ridgewood Democratic Club, 60-70 Putnam Avenue, Ridgewood, NY 11385
sober and solitary
- photo by Mitch Waxman
The other day, your humble narrator was seeking adventure and illumination amongst the mouldering tombstones and oil soaked sands of Blissville. This is an industrial stretch, closer to DUGABO than it is to DUKBO, with the cyclopean walls of Calvary Cemetery defining the northern side of the street and an unbroken facade of industrial buildings and warehouses on the the south, which is also the direction in which the fabled Newtown Creek might be found by those that seek it out.
This is formerly one of the most loathsome stretches of the Creeklands- home to oil works, distilleries, and fat rendering plants.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
On the gates of what was once the vast rendering plant of Van Iderstines, a noxious industrial combine which was reviled by its neighbors during the century it squatted squamously upon this spot, this artwork was observed. This was no mere graffiti scrawl, instead this was an affixed installation, one which was obviously prepared elsewhere.
Content and subject matter are curious… and more than curious…
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator grew interested upon noticing the presence of the double helix in the design, and the labeling which is meant to indicate the various amino acids which DNA is composed of. The “genetic code” as it is called, is actually represented by just four letters representing the chemical nucleotides which form the “double helix”- G,A,T, and C.
The four bases found in DNA are adenine (abbreviated A), cytosine (C), guanine (G) and thymine (T)
- photo by Mitch Waxman
A secondary piece was hung nearby, this one showed greater restraint than the first, but absent the chaotic charisma of the first.
Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if the fences and gated properties of the Newtown Creek waterfront became a sort of guerrilla gallery for local artists. Imagine mile after mile of bizarre conceptions and twee fever dreams installed in the dead of night by a virtual and quite fey army of artists. Not “tagging”, of course, just tacking up something on paper whose impermanence was part of its very composition. Do the art on rice paper or something that will just turn to pulp when it rains.
A friend of mine once did an ad agency mailing for some “green” client, and her gimmick was to use paper into which flower seeds were embedded at the paper mill (and it was printed using soy inks, of course), and you were meant to just plant the advertisement in a pot after reading it.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Being the sort of damaged individual that you’ve come to expect me to be, Lords and Ladies, an attempt was made to decode this particular painting. It soon became apparent that expertise in organic chemistry would be required to profoundly critique it, something which it would be foolhardy to attempt. A cursory scan of the various formulae revealed that some of these are indeed actual chemical descriptors for amongst other things- restriction enzymes.
The usage of the infinity symbol and the other text is a mystery to me, but overall I liked the art.
ALSO, this Friday:
My own attempt at presenting a cogent narrative and historical journey “up the creek” is up coming as well-
Your humble narrator will be narrating humbly on Friday, February 24th at 7:30 P.M. for the“Ridgewood Democratic Club, 60-70 Putnam Avenue, Ridgewood, NY 11385” as the “Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show” is presented to their esteemed group. The club hosts a public meeting, with guests and neighbors welcome, and say that refreshments will be served.
The “Magic Lantern Show” is actually a slideshow, packed with informative text and graphics, wherein we approach and explore the entire Newtown Creek. Every tributary, bridge, and significant spot are examined and illustrated with photography. This virtual tour will be augmented by personal observation and recollection by yours truly, with a question and answer period following.
For those of you who might have seen it last year, the presentation has been streamlined, augmented with new views, and updated with some of the emerging stories about Newtown Creek which have been exclusively reported on at this- your Newtown Pentacle.
For more information, please contact me here.
What: Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show
When: Friday, February 24th at 7:30 P.M.
Where: Ridgewood Democratic Club, 60-70 Putnam Avenue, Ridgewood, NY 11385
thickening twilight
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Sickened by weariness and a youth misspent, your humble narrator nevertheless has been tormenting himself lately with regret and guilty nonsense. “Not working hard enough” is omnipresent in my mind these days, and accordingly, the length and depth of my wanderings through the Creeklands have expanded. A lack of physical exercise is deadly to a poor specimen like myself, something which is difficult during the winter months due to that certain allergy to cold which has manifested – and which has become amplified- in recent years.
It’s amazing the ways that your body changes as you grow older, sometimes it seems as if there’s some feeble alien creature within that is pushing and tearing a path to the outside world through your very flesh.
from hplovecraft.com
Y’ha-nthlei was not destroyed when the upper-earth men shot death into the sea. It was hurt, but not destroyed. The Deep Ones could never be destroyed, even though the palaeogean magic of the forgotten Old Ones might sometimes check them. For the present they would rest; but some day, if they remembered, they would rise again for the tribute Great Cthulhu craved. It would be a city greater than Innsmouth next time.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Carrying forth, however, is something compelled rather than desired. My team of doctors has advised me of decaying homeostasis, entropic processes, and general decline. Their suggestions are to step up, exert more effort, and seek even greater frequency for these long walks while avoiding the pleasures and poisons of the west. Luckily, the ancient pathways and avenues which surround and inform that nearby slick of languid infamy known as the Newtown Creek supply ample locations to inspect, never failing to intimate some hidden meaning or vaguely shadowed terror.
Who can guess, all there is, that might be buried down there?
from hplovecraft.com
“The nethermost caverns,” wrote the mad Arab, “are not for the fathoming of eyes that see; for their marvels are strange and terrific. Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head. Wisely did Ibn Schacabao say, that happy is the tomb where no wizard hath lain, and happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes. For it is of old rumour that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws; till out of corruption horrid life springs, and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth’s pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Paranoid wonderings, lunatic ideations, unnameable desires- all haunt me during the seemingly aimless steps. Delusions of self importance, hubris, and vast ennui are my only companions on these often cobbled streets. A discarded landscape with a lost history, this is a place given to the dead, the diseased, the barren… a perfect home for one such as myself. There seems to be a current in the air, a taste of anxiety on the tip of my tongue which is all pervasive, and it feels as if something is about to happen.
Ahh… I’m all effed up.
from hplovecraft.com
I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a daemoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons—the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.
demoniac alteration
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Fiery concatenation and syncopated horror haunt my steps whenever visting DUKBO.
Sarcastic and conceit laden, the label I give to this place is nevertheless apropos, for it is very much Down Under the Kosciuszko Bridge Onramp.
Welcome to DUKBO on the Brooklyn side of Newtown Creek- beneath the thrice damned Kosciuszko Bridge. It’s the sort of place which might best be described as either an “M1 industrial zone” or as a “literal hell on earth”.
Either way, it has been like this around here since around the Civil War.
from Harper’s weekly, Volume 38, 1894- courtesy Google books
AN INSALUBRIOUS VALLEY.
The city of Brooklyn, having purged itself of the malodorous political institutions that were so long a blot upon its southern border, might well turn its attention to some nuisances of a more literally malodorous kind that flourish along its northern border, a detailed description of which will be found in another column of the Weekly’. It appears that in an early day the valley of Newtown Creek, which is the boundary between Kings and Queens counties, was selected by various manufacturers as an eligible site for the location of factories. The location was then far on the outskirts of the city, and no doubt quite unobjectionable. A great variety of institutions were set iu operation here, including those useful and necessary but unpleasant factories whose purpose it is to transform the animal refuse of a city into merchantable produce. The gases generated by these factories had an odor almost unendurable, as any one can testify who was accustomed to travel on the Long Island Railroad from the Thirty-fourth Street ferry in years gone by.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Elucidating on J. Rosenberg’s “model tallow rendering factory”, or the infamous Night Soil Dock of Conrad Wissell, or the extant nightmares of the Kings County Chemical works would be superfluous if describing the 19th century industries located on either side of the Newtown Creek as “dirty”.
They were good guys, who at least attempted to reform their industrial practices. It was the smaller operators in the distillery and fat rendering trades who were truly vile, at least according to the historical record.
Describing the transport and storage of rotting butchers scrap, animal waste, rotten eggs, and dead horses- all of which sat stinking in the summer sun while waiting to be weighed by the rendering plant bosses- or envisioning the attendant plagues of insect and rodentine vermin which followed these redolent piles (whose numbers were checked only by the acid rain and those environmental calamities which were caused by unregulated petroleum and chemical interests) from points all over the cities of Brooklyn, Long Island City, and New York would surely be a form of macabre and historical pornography.
However, that’s what the businesses here used as raw materials.
from The Sanitary Era, Volume 1, 1887, courtesy google books
Newtown Creek — No city in the Union has so foul a pest hole at its boundaries as Brooklyn. The sludge acid discharged from the works of the Standard Oil Company seems to possess an ominous potency for stirring up the sewage in the creek, and its black and thickened current seethes with bubbles of sulphuretted hydrogen. The shores, banked with this acid and with nameless filth, empoison the atmosphere at low water, while every rising tide seems to free a new supply of sludge. When to the oil industry is added the manufacture of fertilizers and a plenitude of pigs along Queens County shore, the sources of supply for a great nuisance or a grievous plague are discernible to all but official eyes and nostrils. Newtown Creek should be filled up, though not with sludge acid, and the nuisance makers removed to a distance. Our, Health Commissioner is authority for the statement that “You might as well try to fight the devil as the Standard Oil Company.”
- photo by Mitch Waxman
There have always been jobs here, the sort of jobs which those who cannot find employment in conventional occupations covet. Topical observation of the area reveals the modern presence of scrap yards, abattoirs, warehouse and trucking concerns, and light manufacturing facilities. Of course, the gargantuan National Grid property is nearby, but that’s a horse of a different shade.
There are a LOT of scrap yards in this little slice, this angle between the neighborhoods of Greenpoint and East Williamsburg, which creates a concentrating point for heavy metals. Of course, this is still preferable to the lagoons of sludge acid and animal waste which distinguished the place 100 years ago.
from The City record, Volume 6, Part 4, 1878, courtesy google books
Newtown Creek for many years has been a source of nuisance. It receives the contents of several of the large sewers ot Brooklyn. From above Penny Bridge to the East river are factories of various descriptions, oil refiners, fat inciters, gut cleaners, distilleries, car stables, super-phosphate factories, ammonia works, varnish works, and last, but not least, immense piles of stable manure, stored for future shipment, the refuse from all of which runs into the creek, and polluting the waters to such an extent as to have killed all the fish.
At low tide acres of land, covered to the depth of several inches with fat, the refuse of the oil-stills, are exposed. At high tide the oily portion of this refuse floats on the surface of the water, still giving forth its characteristic tarry odor. To add to this, many oil works, when the storage tanks are full, run their waste alkali and even their sludge-acid into the creek; in the latter case giving rise to the well known sludge smell.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Faceless, those who labor here find themselves stained with “the colour”, an iridescent sheen permeating the Creeklands that no known detergent can easily remove. These laborers are exposed to precipitate from the endless truck and automotive traffic passing by on the highway and bridge above, a dusty particulate rises from tire shattered roadways, and the very air they breathe is a poisonous fume of industrial chemicals and spent fuel. Live poultry concerns, some quite large, maintain depots here as well. The birds, like the workers, quickly display the colour.
This colour is like no earthly hue, rather it is like something from out of space, and a stark contrast to the Shining City of the western horizon just a few miles away.
from nytimes.com
THE NUISANCES MUST GO; Gov. Flower Says that Newtown Creek Must Be Purified. FIVE FACTORIES ORDERED CLOSED Private Business Not to be Allowed to Jeopardize the Health of Brooklyn and Long Island City
proper turns
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Once upon a time, this wasn’t the proverbial “wrong side of the tracks”, rather this was the center of town. 18th century residents would ask “what on earth could have happened to Maspeth Creek” were they able, and “where is the Town Dock which DeWitt Clinton himself used- where is it”?
What happened?
- photo by Mitch Waxman
19th Century residents and passerby would inquire what disaster occurred, that Haberman’s and Nichols Chemical and all of Berlin and Blissville have disappeared and been forgotten? What has happened to the great factories, the mills, and the hustle and bustle? Where have all the railroads gone, can one paltry freight line actually be charged with servicing all of Newtown Creek?
- photo by Mitch Waxman
For your humble narrator, a good place to ponder this sort of question has always been the Clinton Diner.
This little oasis has hosted a full group from a bus tour I helped conduct, acts a central meeting point for all sorts of Newtown Creek functions, and has provided a much needed cup of coffee and clean rest room to a half frozen yet quite humble narrator on more than one occasion.
It’s also sitting pretty much on a shoreline that Maspeth Creek once flowed past.
- photo by Mitch Waxman
Accordingly, a “Happy Valentine’s” day shout out to the Clinton Diner is offered today.
It would be meaningless to offer you shots of its interior as it has been featured more than once in the cinema. Witness below the trademark dolly shot of Martin Scorcese in Goodfellas… The window booth that DeNiro and Liotta are sitting in is the one with the “Go Giants” signage in the shot above.
And a happy valentine’s day greeting is offered to you as well, lords and ladies… or a giddy Lupercalia.
The Clinton Diner is found at 5626 Maspeth Ave., Maspeth, NY 11378-2248 (718) 894-3475
