Archive for February 2014
Magic Lantern Show at Brooklyn Brainery
The Newtown Creek Magic lantern show returns.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On February 27th, your humble narrator will be narrating humbly at the Brooklyn Brainery – here’s the details. This is the 2014 version of the thing, btw, updated with newly learned information and recently captured images. In the past, this photo presentation and info dump has been offered to political clubs, historical societies, and to the general public at a variety of venues.
Come with?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Brooklyn Brainery is a swell operation, located in the nice part of Brooklyn nearby Grand Army Plaza and several Subway lines. I’ve worked with them a few times in the last year, doing walking tours, and they’re very cool folks. Also, the space they’re located in is very nice – physical comfort wise and such.
From their website –
We host classes about all sorts of things: from physics to Australian desserts, from HTML to shorthand and just about every nook and cranny in between.
All of our course topics are dreamed up and suggested by you, and our teachers are a group of awesome people from around Brooklyn and the whole city. Anyone can teach–you just need a passion for the topic and a desire to share it with others. We do all the planning, taking care of sign ups, marketing, and materials, so you can focus on the important stuff (teaching, duh).”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The presentation will be about 2 hours long, with the actual slideshow and talk occupying roughly one and a half hours. What follows will be a Q&A session, wherein questions will be offered that a humble narrator will endeavor to intelligently answer. Brooklyn Brainery is asking $12 for the class.
There are still a few tickets left, so click on through and join the conversation about Newtown Creek on February 27th at 8 p.m.
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alluded to
All text today from H.P. Lovecraft’s “Azathoth,” courtesy wikisource
– photo by Mitch Waxman
When age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of Spring’s flowering meads; when learning stripped the Earth of her mantle of beauty and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone forever, there was a man who traveled out of life on a quest into spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Of the name and abode of this man little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to say that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not to open fields and groves but on to a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned so far out and peered at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive a man to madness who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the tall cities. After years he began to call the slow sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existance no common eye suspected. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher’s window to merge with the close air of his room and to make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold, vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable depths. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men’s calendars the tides of far spheres that bore him gently to join the course of other cycles that tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore, a green shore fragrant with lotus blossoms and starred by red camalates…
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like shuddering
Winter is coming? Winter will never leave.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For the record, my fear is that a new glacial age has begun, and TV weather reports back up my suspicions. Problem is that I’m not that good with a spear, and when the mastodons return I’m going to get bossed around by a group of hirsute Pachyderms. This sort of humiliation would be fairly typical for me, as your humble narrator is extremely easy to bully, especially by those megafauna which prosper during Ice Ages. Luckily, I can definitely do the cave paintings, so there will be some rationalized utility by which the strong can justify keeping me alive. Of course, this scenario isn’t all that much different from normal life, as there’s always someone trying to boss me around.
from wikipedia
The energy balance of the snowpack itself is dictated by several heat exchange processes. The snowpack absorbs solar shortwave radiation that is partially blocked by cloud cover and reflected by snow surface. A long-wave heat exchange takes place between the snowpack and its surrounding environment that includes overlying air mass, tree cover and clouds. Heat exchange takes place by convection between the snowpack and the overlaying air mass, and it is governed by the temperature gradient and wind speed. Moisture exchange between the snowpack and the overlying air mass is accompanied by latent heat transfer that is influenced by vapor pressure gradient and air wind. Rain on snow can add significant amounts of thermal energy to the snowpack. A generally insignificant heat exchange takes place by conduction between the snowpack and the ground. The small temperature change from before to after a snowfall is a result of the heat transfer between the snowpack and the air. As snow degrades, its surface can develop characteristic ablation textures such as suncups or penitentes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s my own fault, being bullyable, as I was born “less than.” Vast physical cowardice, combined with a naturally ugly mind, renders one somewhat less than a “leader.” It has never been my joy to hit the game running home run, rather I’m the fellow who fouls out and sets up the hero for his or her savior moment at the bottom of the ninth. In an ice age overrun by giant Moose and hairy Elephants, it would be vainglorious to suggest that I’d be of much use to society, and admission is offered that one such as myself would have made a terrible Viking.
from wikipedia
Ice was originally thought to be slippery due to the pressure of an object coming into contact with the ice, creating heat, melting a thin layer of the ice and allowing the object to glide across the surface. For example, the blade of an ice skate, upon exerting pressure on the ice, would melt a thin layer, providing lubrication between the ice and the blade. This explanation, called “pressure melting”, originated in 19th century. It however did not account for skating on ice temperatures lower than −3.5 °C, which skaters often skate upon.
In the 20th century an alternative explanation, called “friction heating,” was proposed, whereby friction of the material was the cause of the ice layer melting. However, this theory also failed to explain skating at low temperature. Neither sufficiently explained why ice is slippery when standing still even at below-zero temperatures.
It is now believed that ice is slippery because ice molecules in contact with air cannot properly bond with the molecules of the mass of ice beneath (and thus are free to move like molecules of liquid water). These molecules remain in a semi-liquid state, providing lubrication regardless of pressure against the ice exerted by any object. However, the significance of this hypothesis is disputed by experiments showing a high coefficient of friction for ice using atomic force microscopy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Perhaps my bag in this new Cryosphere, or snowball Earth, will be to handle the weaker animals which will populate the nooks and crannies of our world. This wouldn’t put any meaningful protein on the table, but would be a service sought out by others by which some occupation could be found. Squashing bugs and chasing rodentine manifestations would at least keep me busy enough to stay warm. Also, like the Mongols, I could wear clothes made of sewn up amalgamations of Mouse leather.
from wikipedia
Ice sheets are bigger than ice shelves or alpine glaciers. Masses of ice covering less than 50,000 km2 are termed an ice cap. An ice cap will typically feed a series of glaciers around its periphery.
Although the surface is cold, the base of an ice sheet is generally warmer due to geothermal heat. In places, melting occurs and the melt-water lubricates the ice sheet so that it flows more rapidly. This process produces fast-flowing channels in the ice sheet — these are ice streams.
The present-day polar ice sheets are relatively young in geological terms. The Antarctic Ice Sheet first formed as a small ice cap (maybe several) in the early Oligocene, but retreating and advancing many times until the Pliocene, when it came to occupy almost all of Antarctica. The Greenland ice sheet did not develop at all until the late Pliocene, but apparently developed very rapidly with the first continental glaciation. This had the unusual effect of allowing fossils of plants that once grew on present-day Greenland to be much better preserved than with the slowly forming Antarctic ice sheet.
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blazing entity
Just a short one today.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sorry for the late update, got a lot of stuff going on today. Here’s a view of LIC and the Manhattan skyline from atop the Pulaski Bridge. Back tomorrow with something more substantial.
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literal resurrection
Old habits die hard, I guess.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There are certain shots which I can never resist, and amongst these are the easterly and westerly views from the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge. Pictured is the former Van Iderstine property, in Queens, alongside that malign reminder of generational neglect known as the Newtown Creek. Van Iderstine has been discussed previously, in the posting “virgin aether,” if you’re curious.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The former Tidewater property, which has also been discussed in a prior posting “central chamber,” and… wait a second… something has changed. Something odd and atavist has been added to a scene both familiar and loved…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I will confess that I was tipped off to this Standard Oil signage being installed on the Tidewater building a couple of days before these shots were taken (thanks, T. Willis) – but – what’s happening on Newtown Creek? Does anybody know? Fill a humble narrator in.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
The Newtown Pentacle 