Author Archive
monstrous guilt
The farbissina hunt rides again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Eschewing the behavioral requirements by which social graces are enforced amongst those who aspire, the qualities of polity and well mannered conviviality are not normally mentioned when the subject of discussion is your humble narrator. Oft has this lack of civilized manner called down unexpected storms- which offer, induce, and deliver personal angst and derision. The path I walk and life I’ve lived has been pedantic and painful at best, and many have volunteered that my personality is tolerable only in short doses. Vast physical inadequacies, and the social status of an ineluctably feckless quisling, demand that one such as myself retreats when trouble comes. There is no chance that a stand will be taken and instead to the shadows will I flee.
From my hermitage of shadows, lurking amongst the night, do I stab at and shun the world that surrounds. Humbug.
from wikipedia
Shunning can be the act of social rejection, or mental rejection. Social rejection is when a person or group deliberately avoids association with, and habitually keeps away from an individual or group. This can be a formal decision by a group, or a less formal group action which will spread to all members of the group as a form of solidarity. It is a sanction against association, often associated with religious groups and other tightly knit organizations and communities. Targets of shunning can include persons who have been labeled as apostates, whistleblowers, dissidents, strikebreakers, or anyone the group perceives as a threat or source of conflict.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
When this- your Newtown Pentacle- first appeared on the vast interwebs a few years ago, the accusations hurled my way were many and varied. Some said that I was some sort of shill for the real estate people, given the wonderment expressed about western Queens. Shortly thereafter, some said that I was a pompous windbag pontificating to a nearly empty room of slack jawed Hipsters. Next up, I was accused of being some sort of sleeper agent placed by deep pocketed and borough wide political gangs with shadowy goals. After that, a sudden wave of auto cthonic attention from the press caused some to characterize me as a careerist and carpet bagger. Can you see why I stick to the shadows and shun a world populated by crazy people? If I was any of the things above, wouldn’t I be able to afford to own a car?
It’s mostly night time in December anyway, and I’ve always hated being asked to drink any flavor of Kool-Aid. Back in the old neighborhood, in Brooklyn, we just called it bug juice.
from wikipedia
“Drinking the Kool-Aid” is a metaphor commonly used in the United States that refers to a person or group holding an unquestioned belief, argument, or philosophy without critical examination. It could also refer to knowingly going along with a doomed or dangerous idea because of peer pressure. The phrase typically carries a negative connotation when applied to an individual or group. The phrase derives from the November 1978 Jonestown Massacre, where members of the Peoples Temple, who were followers of the pro-Communist cult leader Reverend Jim Jones, committed suicide by drinking a mixture of a powdered soft drink flavoring agent laced with cyanide.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What this little invective has to do with the photos presented in today’s post, captured nearby Manhattan’s Flat Iron district in the east 20’s, is surprisingly simple. These were the thoughts roiling and boiling between my ears while I was shooting. It has been a long, long time since I’ve allowed myself to feel anything at all- let alone allowing an old and familiar cauldron of hatred and bile to come to a simmer. Here’s the deal, lords and ladies, and I’m saying it for the umpteenth time: There is no hidden agenda, nor guiding principal, nor shadowed paymaster behind the scenes around these parts. I show you what Queens and the Creek show me, that’s it. I take shots of seemingly significant structures and locations out in the field. I go back to HQ, research to the best of my ability, and present them here. Sometimes, I’m wrong, and count on the wisdom of crowds to point me in the right direction when I am.
Meanwhile, I’m busy shunning the whole world for awhile. Bah.
from wikipedia
Green Infrastructure or Blue-green infrastructure is a network providing the “ingredients” for solving urban and climatic challenges by building with nature. The main components of this approach include stormwater management, climate adaptation, less heat stress, more biodiversity, food production, better air quality, sustainable energy production, clean water and healthy soils, as well as the more anthropocentric functions such as increased quality of life through recreation and providing shade and shelter in and around towns and cities.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
something coming
Maritime Sunday returns.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Given that its Thanksgiving weekend, Maritime Sunday must have some other corporate sponsored name. Black Friday was a day or two ago, Cyber Monday is tomorrow. If the Sunday after Thanksgiving doesn’t have some officially sanctioned nomenclature, I suggest “Cannibal Holocaust Sunday.”
Today’s shot is another from the archives, depicting DonJon’s Meaghan Ann tug maneuvering into the towing position indicated for a fuel tanker, and was captured along the reliable Kill Van Kull. A happy and a healthy Cannibal Holocaust Sunday is offered accordingly.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Project Firebox 98
An ongoing catalog of New York’s endangered Fireboxes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sharply attired in stainless and scarlet, this guardian of the public trust was encountered over in Jackson Heights nearby 34th avenue. It only speaks a single tongue, is not vibrant, but is kind of diverse as you don’t see stainless steel used all that much for municipal street furniture. Sparkle on, firebox 7864, sparkle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
recognized turnings
Wandering and twirling, evermore.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
No direction home, that’s me. Found this scene on Northern Blvd. somewhere out in Jackson Heights or Woodside… who the hell knows where these neighborhood borders are anymore anyway? Can’t we just have the realtors paint some sort of yellow or orange line delineating the space? What about a sign, which vultures can sit on?
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
writhing sharply
Give thanks, or else.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For the holiday weekend, which is ultimately a vestigial harvest festival celebrated by some post industrial nation state that occupies a third of a continent (and militarily speaking- most of the planet- for those extraterrestrials and Otaku who might be reading this), Newtown Pentacle will be in single image mode.
Now, go eat the things you are supposed to, then go do your patriotic duty and shop. Our enemies in east Australasia would prefer if you did nothing instead, and just continued to grow fatter. Your job is to go eat a bird which is native to the continent, so get to it.
The shot above depicts another sort of endemic creature infesting North America, the humble Cormorant, which is lucky enough to not be considered food by the well fed masses.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
