The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

extirpate everything

with one comment

Death, annihilation, hatred… in today’s post.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

A few of you lords and ladies have commented on the dark mood which a humble narrator seems to be in, which is a correct assessment. Last weekend, I did my last “official” tours of 2016, and one does not allow himself the luxury of maudlin thoughts during tour season – as I have to remain upbeat while describing the sobering industrial history of Newtown Creek and its surrounding landmass, for fear of snapping the stoutest chord whilst describing the pneumonic cattle stables of LIC’s Blissville, or the Brooklyn side glue factory of Peter Cooper (where Jello brand gelatin was invented, as an aside).

Once the season is done, however, it’s as if some sort of great rubber band has snapped back into its primal shape and I can allow the black dog to roam and wallow in hopeless misery and spiritual darkness for a short interval. Home sweet home.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Now! Now is the time to unleash the very worm that gnaws! Now is the time to creep through the shadows of the megalopolis in a filthy black raincoat, scuttling from corner to corner, and skittering along the masonry walls of cylcopean factory buildings and across disease cursed bulkheads in the manner of some sort of wandering mendicant. Now is the time to shine a light into the sewers and other dark recesses while asking that age old question – “who can guess, all there is, that might be hidden down there?” Now!

For some reason, I think inserting a “bwah-hah-hah” into this post would be appropriate.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

One has a long held belief that if you’re suffering from the flu, the appropriate thing to do is to stay in bed and let the illness run its course. It’s the same thing with “feeling bad” between the ears – indulge yourself for a few days, lay down in the muddy puddles of the psyche, and allow the psychic fever to rage. The trick is not allowing that to become your “thing” and spending months or years staring into the mirror at three in the morning wondering why your mommy didn’t love you enough, or getting lost in morbid self obsession.

I believe you should, at least, pretend to be like and enjoy the company of the humans. Otherwise a dark mood can lead to outré expressions of loneliness.


“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle

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Written by Mitch Waxman

October 19, 2016 at 12:00 pm

One Response

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  1. Me too…I need a good laugh:

    georgetheatheist . . . laugh and the world laughs with you

    October 19, 2016 at 1:03 pm


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