The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

knot of

with one comment

Today’s post is for the birds.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Found myself walking into an infestation of rock doves on 43rd street recently, and decided to keep shooting as I penetrated their crowd. Generally speaking, the rock doves – or pigeons – I encounter as I march about don’t always acknowledge my presence. Usually, I walk right through them with no reaction from their assemblage.

I’ve always found this odd, and it reinforces a sneaking suspicion I’ve had that I might actually be dead and just a spirit condemned to spend an eternity rattling my chains in Western Queens.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Putting this theory to the test, I got them to react to me when I charged forward and right into their flock, which caused them to explode into the air. This confirmation of corporeal presence allowed me to indulge another one of my little ideations – the one where everything that’s happened to me in the last decade is some sort of last gasp in a hospital bed, symptomatic of an oxygen starved brain desperately clawing at the last milliseconds of life.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

I mean, how do you know what’s real? Are you dreaming that you’re reading this? Am I dreaming I wrote it? Are both of us part of somebody else’s nocturnal hallucinations? How can you know? Is that top still spinning?

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Written by Mitch Waxman

June 2, 2016 at 11:00 am

One Response

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  1. Hate to break it to you but you’re really just a vaporous cloud of molecules that’s only vaguely aware of itself. We all are so don’t feel too bad about it.

    What is real is nothing more than what a majority of humans agree upon based on their matching subjective perceptions. And these perceptions are nothing more than analogs and rough approximations of information our brains receive from our nervous system. I don’t think it possible for us to even contemplate, let alone perceive and grasp all scales and dimensions of an absolute reality if it even exists.

    The question of being alive or dead, or what we think in one’s mind is a continuing life although at the point of death is one explored by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ambrose_Bierce&quot;.Ambrose Bierce in his short story “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” upon which the film Jaccob’s Ladder was based.
    I highly recommend them to the readers.

    If the sentient mind can be said to be information as a property of matter and energy (as quantum physics defines information), then the ghost as information is possible and may perhaps retain sentience.
    Then maybe, the difference between being a sentient cloud of molecules that is said to be alive in a physical, organic state and a ghost might be nothing more than perception or belief after all.

    Interesting side note about Bierce: He is assumed to have either died or was killed in Mexico in 1914 although no one actually witnessed his demise nor were his remains ever found. The premise of Carnival of Souls. One wonders what if…

    “I’ve always found this odd, and it reinforces a sneaking suspicion I’ve had that I might actually be dead and just a spirit condemned to spend an eternity rattling my chains in Western Queens.”

    Ah, no. With my class B poetic license driving prose at speed to Doppler effected purple, methinks The Pentacle Wizard rightly fears straying to the south, the bastions of The Techno Mage and the fell power of his electronic necromancy. And he quails at the thought of the East, being humbled under the googie shadow of The Great Globe and Dread Towers. That place where earlier Great Techno Mages cast nameless spells and brought forth from the desolations there The World of Tomorrow. In the process, all roads in the county were turned to lead to the mighty Trylon and Perisphere which dominated the skyline of all Queens. There easily seen from the banks of the Newtown Creek overwhelming all therein even in memory to this day. Or should he trespass upon the territory of and match wits with The Great Lore Master of the East, Keeper of Forgotten Knowledge of which others speak of only in hushed whispers. Thus he stays in the West.

    …That and the Pentacle Wizard’s staff doesn’t get any Wi-Fi reception out there. Doh!

    Don Cavaioli

    Cav

    June 2, 2016 at 2:34 pm


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