Archive for January 2018
trick atavism
Uh huh shattered, uh huh shattered.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There’s a long list of things which are looked for when one is out wandering, and shattered glass is one of them. Don’t know why, but it’s something I’m attracted to shooting, as I like imperfection and meaningless destruction. Spotted the shatter pattern above on the window of a shop along Queens Blvd.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The one above is from those walkways you’ll notice above the digester eggs of the sewer plant in Greenpoint. I was told that a “bird strike” caused the damage.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Somewhere in industrial Maspeth, which is the epicenter for illegal dumping, these windows were abandoned on the sidewalk after being accidentally arranged in an esthetically pleasing pattern.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That used to be a mirror, which was similarly ditched in industrial Maspeth.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One of the reinforced glass windows – which used to be installed at the old Van Iderstine property in Blissville – was encountered along the bulkheads of Newtown Creek one day, and a humble narrator found himself transfixed.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
apparent scope
Let’s take hatred back, folks.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Everybody likes to think that they’re saintly, and that all the negative emotional stuff in their heart and soul either needs to be or is already quelled and conquered in pursuance of evolving into a ball of vegan light or something. Me? I like all of my emotions, including that boiling cauldron of anger, lust, hatred, and jealousy I nurture. What are you without the “seven deadlies” after all? Lukewarm, a namby pamby, a jellyfish isolated in a tidal pool – that’s what.
According to the Christian text – Rev 3:16 particularly – “So then because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.” I’ve always thought that who you hate is at least as important as whom you love, and you don’t want to be lukewarm about either one of those categories in your personal or professional life.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Our label happy culture has used the adjective “hate” to describe groups with fealty to atavist political views – Nazis, right wingers, racialists, etc. Why on earth are we rendering anything over to those clowns, especially an important part of the emotional palette we were all born with? I hate Nazis, so do a bunch of my friends, so does that make my little clique of friends a hate group? We are, after all, a group of people that hates another group of people. Hate can be a good thing, and it’s a brilliant motivator. Don’t put down hate until you’ve tried it, same thing with punching a Nazi in the nose.
I hate street littering and finding garbage floating about in area waterways, for instance, and hang around with a bunch of like minded people. We hate it so much that we schedule meetings with the government to complain about it.
As a note: I also hate finding mushrooms on my dinner plate, but not strongly enough to really do anything about it.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I hate tyranny and bureaucratic nonsense. I hate the strong dominating the weak. I hate slogans, societal engineering, and calls to action by concerned citizens. I hate the do gooders and the do nothings. I hate baked coconut, am no fan of flavored coffees, or shellfish, and I’ve already mentioned mushrooms. I probably hate you, and certainly hate myself. I hate the whole interval around Christmas and New Years, and that weird drywall guy at the bar. I hate both the playah, and the game.
Don’t give up on hate, lords and ladies, in the dark hours of the night it might be all you’ve got. Take hate back from the bad guys and embrace your inner demons. That’s my advice.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
with astonishment
I’m not being paranoid, everybody hates me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Everywhere a humble narrator goes, people point and laugh. Some grasp at their purses, or point me out to their children as an example of what can happen if you don’t do your homework and behave properly. Sometimes, a mocking crowd will gather and hurl garbage collected off the street. The names I’m called by these assembled strangers are hurtful, because more often than not there’s a kernel of truth to their accusatory defamations. The guy above told me “You stink.”
The whole world is against me, I’m telling you.
from wikipedia
According to the DSM-IV-TR, persecutory delusions are the most common form of delusions in paranoid schizophrenia, where the person believes “he or she is being tormented, followed, tricked, spied on, or ridiculed.” They are also often seen in schizoaffective disorder and, as recognized by DSM-IV-TR, constitute the cardinal feature of the persecutory subtype of delusional disorder, by far the most common. Delusions of persecution may also appear in manic and mixed episodes of bipolar disease, polysubstance abuse, and severe depressive episodes with psychotic features, particularly when associated with bipolar illness.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sometimes, I’ll innocently greet a person whom I’ve met before. Instantly they will begin to offer excuses as to needing to be somewhere else, describe a sudden onset of nausea, or begin to speak in a different language. Shock and horror greet my arrivals, it seems. Often it seems as if groups of people have organized around ostracizing a humble narrator, forming into whispering circles with their backs turned towards me.
I don’t think I smell particularly bad, or at least no worse than other people.
from wikipedia
Paranoia is an instinct or thought process believed to be heavily influenced by anxiety or fear, often to the point of delusion and irrationality. Paranoid thinking typically includes persecutory, or beliefs of conspiracy concerning a perceived threat towards oneself (e.g. “Everyone is out to get me”, which is an American parochial phrase). Paranoia is distinct from phobias, which also involve irrational fear, but usually no blame. Making false accusations and the general distrust of others also frequently accompany paranoia. For example, an incident most people would view as an accident or coincidence, a paranoid person might believe was intentional.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One loves to argue, to be fair. A humble narrator will take on any argument, anytime, and if I had the funding to keep a legal professional on staff I would be constantly in court pursuing frivolous lawsuits over minor points. It’s my right to complain to anyone who will listen, after all, and especially so to government employees and officialdom. One did not like “the look” which a deputy commissioner of the DEP gave me one time back in 2011, and I’ve been saving up in my penny jar since to hire an attorney to pursue the slight.
Best served cold? Pfahh, what kind of revenge is served cold?
from wikipedia
In the legal profession and courts, a querulant (from the Latin querulus – “complaining”) is a person who obsessively feels wronged, particularly about minor causes of action. In particular the term is used for those who repeatedly petition authorities or pursue legal actions based on manifestly unfounded grounds. These applications include in particular complaints about petty offenses.
Querulant behavior is to be distinguished from either the obsessive pursuit of justice regarding major injustices, or the proportionate, reasonable, pursuit of justice regarding minor grievances. According to Mullen and Lester, the life of the querulant individual becomes consumed by their personal pursuit of justice in relation to minor grievances.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One spends a lot of his time wringing hands and gnashing teeth, which partially contributes to the sorry state of my dentition. Acquaintances such as the fellow pictured above have counseled me to just relax and forget about the slings and arrows lest I be branded a contrarian lunatic. He also suggested that I invest in some decent aftershave or cologne to cancel out the stench of sewage and garbage which I carry about my person.
from wikipedia
Stigma is a Greek word that in its origins referred to a type of marking or tattoo that was cut or burned into the skin of criminals, slaves, or traitors in order to visibly identify them as blemished or morally polluted persons. These individuals were to be avoided particularly in public places.
Social stigmas can occur in many different forms. The most common deal with culture, obesity, gender, race, illness and disease. Many people who have been stigmatized, feel as though they are transforming from a whole person to a tainted one. They feel different and devalued by others. This can happen in the workplace, educational settings, health care, the criminal justice system, and even in their own family.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This stimatization and social suffering sucks. It’s gotten so bad that a humble narrator recognizes facial postures such as the one above as being one of normal greeting. I’m not just paranoid about being socially isolated and rejected, it’s getting to the point where I’m not even sure of whose face it is staring back at me from the bathroom mirror at three in the morning, after my nightly hysterical fit. There’s some old guy in the mirror, where I’m supposed to be.
What’s real? I’ll tell you what’s real, people suck, and I don’t smell that bad.
from wikipedia
The most distinguishing symptoms of BPD are marked sensitivity to rejection or criticism, and intense fear of possible abandonment. Overall, the features of BPD include unusually intense sensitivity in relationships with others, difficulty regulating emotions, and impulsivity. Other symptoms may include feeling unsure of one’s personal identity, morals, and values; having paranoid thoughts when feeling stressed; dissociation and depersonalization; and, in moderate to severe cases, stress-induced breaks with reality or psychotic episodes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Numbed to such pain and rejection, what one truly worries about are the sometimes violent reactions people have when I’m near. When I say “I got stoned this afternoon,” it’s not a story of ingesting some cannibinoids instead it’s a report that people hurled chunks of masonry and rock at me. The whole world is out to get me, and not invite me to parties.
The fellow above, after accusing me of taking his picture, which I denied – punched me in the neck. Hard.
from wikipedia
Social anhedonia is defined as a trait-like disinterest in social contact and is characterized by social withdrawal and decreased pleasure in social situations. This characteristic typically manifests as an indifference to other people. In contrast to introversion, a nonpathological dimension of human personality, social anhedonia represents a deficit in the ability to experience pleasure. Additionally, social anhedonia differs from social anxiety in that social anhedonia is predominantly typified by diminished positive affect, while social anxiety is distinguished by both decreased positive affect and exaggerated negative affect. This trait is currently seen as a central characteristic to, as well as a predictor of, schizophrenia spectrum disorders, as it is seen as a potential evolution of most personality disorders, if the patient is above age 24, when prodromal schizophrenia may be excluded.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Social isolation, punches to the neck, hatred and thwarted vengeance, accusations of stink and carrying the odors of the tomb about wherever I go… I’m not sure why I leave the house sometimes. How do you think you would smell, if children were always hurling rotten eggs at you? What did I ever do to deserve all of this?
Maybe, I should get some aftershave? I’d have to shave more, or at all, then.
from wikipedia
In humans, the formation of body odors is caused my factors such as diet, gender, health, and medication, but the major contribution comes from skin gland secretions and bacterial activity. Humans have three types of sweat glands; eccrine sweat glands, apocrine sweat glands and sebaceous glandss. Eccrine sweat glands are present from birth, while the two latter becomes activated during puberty. Between the different types of human skin glands, the body odor is primarily the result of the apocrine sweat glands, which secrete the majority of chemical compounds needed for the skin flora to metabolize it into odorant substances. This happens mostly in the axillary (armpit) region, although the gland can also be found in the areola, anogenital region, and around the navel. In humans, the armpit regions seem more important than the genital region for body odor which may be related to human bipedalism.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
immediate presentation
Everybody’s always telling me what to do, man.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Public signage is fascinating to one such as myself. Sometimes, as is the case with the specimen above which was found on the George Washington Bridge several years ago, a sign has been installed which attempt the criminalization of something not otherwise prohibited. This allows for the “pretext” needed for law enforcement officers to perform an interview and possibly hand out a citation. Without the presence of the sign, there’s no pretext.
It’s one of those wrinkly bits, constitutionally. Signage of the type displayed above was spattered all over the bridges of NYC after the September 11th attacks. Enforcement of the sign’s sentiments has proven costly for law enforcement, in court case after court case against photographers, so changes in the rules have been instituted. MTA Bridges and Tunnels, as well as the Port Authority folks, have created the rule “Must follow instructions posted on signage,” so if you’re walking over Triborough or George Washington Bridges anytime soon and ignore a posted missive that says “Jump” you’re in legal jeopardy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As advised by the local precinct brass when an army of hobos and bums appeared along Broadway in Astoria a couple of years ago, after a humble narrator inquired as to why it was legal to pass out drunk in front of my house but it wasn’t legal for me to energetically encourage the departure of the inebriate, another wrinkle was revealed. If you don’t have a sign up specifically forbidding trespassing, the cops are limited somewhat in what they are enabled to do. One prefers the sort of gentle persuasion and good mannered physicality which the NYPD rightly enjoy a reputation for, when the sidewalk outside my domicile has been turned into the daily gathering place for half dozen drunkards, to a couple of cops nicely asking the bums to move on. If you’ve got a “No Trespassing” sign up, now, that’s a different story altogether.
Famously, the cops used carry a “nightstick” as part of their compliment of utility belt tools, but not too long ago I found out they used to carry a “daystick.” My query as to what the difference between the two clubs was, to a veteran of the NYPD during the 1970’s, was answered with “It was some kind of plastic, and like a nightstick, but smaller. You’d use it to hit people, but the nightstick was better for that.” What do cops carry these days, for use as a club? A frozen Toblerone, perhaps? The mind boggles.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One is always ready to fight, or give flight, as my brain commands the pancreas to manufacture all the fear and anxiety hormones and steroidal mixes it can manage. That means two things. One is that I “wake up tired” in the abdominal area found just above my small intestine and right below my liver, secondly is that a blind panic sets in as soon as the eyes flicker open from the interminable daily intervals wherein I pass out and wildly hallucinate for hours and hours.
Danger? Yeah, good morning.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
yellowed paper
Reaching into the archives, in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sidelined as I’ve been for the last few weeks by holiday obligations, food poisoning, and my vulnerability to extreme cold – a humble narrator has little new to share with you today but the show must go on. Reaching into the archives, the shot of a Night Heron above was gathered while in the company of the Audubon Society on North Brother Island in 2012.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A pod of Dolphins surfacing was witnessed while onboard one of the inaugural “Whale watching” trips offered by the American Princess boat company, which hails from Breezey Point, back in 2010.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In 2013, I met this kitten who was living in the rip rap shoreline of Staten Island, not far from the Staten Island Ferry terminal. Back tomorrow with something a bit more in depth, I hope, at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
The Newtown Pentacle 