Archive for the ‘bee’ Category
mad and fantastic
Busy bees, and misanthropy, in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The insect above was busily raiding Our Lady of the Pentacle’s herb garden one recent afternoon. Accordingly, I chased it around from blossom to blossom with a camera and flash. Soon, it was chasing me around. Such is my lot. The bee was merely attempting to shoo a representative of NYC’s human infestation away, something for which I can hardly blame it. There’s too many of us.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One shouldn’t be surprised at the various indignities and inequities commonly experienced along the daily round, I suppose, given that many of the places I find myself have the word “hell” in their place names. Over in Manhattan’s Hells Kitchen, for instance, this taxi garage was queerly devoid of human habitation. A good start, I guess, but there’s still too many of us.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Down on the Lower East Side, in an area once known as “Jew town,” this laundromat scene reminded me of certain Edward Hopper paintings. The facility was offering the humans housed therein a chance to remove the soils and bodily excreta which had accreted into their textile garb – using a variety of semi caustic chemicals, detergents, and mechanically agitated hot water. There’s way too many of us, and I fear that what this city could really use is a good plague.
Someday a real rain will come and wash these streets clean…
Sorry for the misanthropy, I get a bit “Travis Bickle” when my back hurts…
“You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? Then who the hell else are you talkin’ to? You talkin’ to me? Well I’m the only one here. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
photo courtesy wikipedia
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Upcoming Walking Tours-
Saturday, September 27th, 13 Steps Around Dutch Kills
Walking Tour with Atlas Obscura, click here for tickets and more info.
Sunday, September 28th, The Poison Cauldron of the Newtown Creek
Walking Tour with Brooklyn Brainery, click here for tickets and more info.
inspired dreamer
124 years ago today, an outsider was thrust roughly into the world.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
If the squamous gods of our own world do not care about you, what causes you to believe that those whose realm is cosmic would even take notice of an unimportant mortal speck living on a muddy world which – from their unknowable and unguessable point of view – has only recently coalesced from star stuff and debris? Were you to find yourself lying prone, naked, and cowering before some galactic, universal, or pan dimensional deity whose regency includes whole galaxies – realizing the true horror of the universe in that moment, and the inconsequential role which terrestrial life plays in it – would you go mad with the realization of the futility of life itself or would a blood vessel burst in your brain? Would you rise to your knees, begging to join some hidden cult which worships the titan, or stare unblinkingly at its manifest radiance until your eyes boiled away? One is incapable of anticipating what ones reaction to a pulsing nucleonic horror found at the center of our universe that is called Azathoth would be, nor what beholding the so called “goat with a thousand young” which is both the gate and the key called Yog Sothoth might do to you, but one would certainly be forever altered and held under their sway afterwards. We are but men, lords and ladies.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
These star born – or Elder Gods – whose machinations stretch back billions of years and into other dimensions and realities where our paltry notion of the constancy of physics and the true nature of the universe are revealed as childish fantasy – enjoy the devotion of uncountable servitors. Their servants, who are the true rulers of the earth, are in the air and the water and burrow into the ground unmatched and unheralded. None inquire as to their purpose, for none have realized that theirs is a plan which has survived more than one extinction event. The cities of the Old Ones, at the so called Mountains of Madness in fabled Antarctica, and those of the ruggose cone shaped Elder Race (which drifted into their current position as the continents formed) in the deserts of Arabia and Australia demonstrate that at the end of all things – only the Conqueror Worm claims victory. The so called insects have a plan, and they created this biosphere of ours only to increase their food supply, as a stock yard. Deep below the Pacific Ocean, their paymaster lies not dead but dreaming instead.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One hundred and twenty four years ago, a set of ideas was born at 194 Angell Street in Providence, Rhode Island. The product of Sarah Susan Phillips Lovecraft and Winfield Scott Lovecraft, the child grew into a strange and lonely but quite erudite man who always considered himself an outsider in the world to which he was born. His name was Howard. His pen name was H.P. Lovecraft, and today (all this week, actually) we celebrate the day of his birth at this, your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
habitual association
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It is childish for me to believe in anyone or anything beyond myself, it seems. In truth, the number of good men I have known in my life can be counted on one hand, and I do not consider myself one of them. Do not think that this handful are or were saints, they just held to a code of ethical behavior and behaved in a consistent fashion with their moral compass. History teaches that such men are few and far between, of course, and that the vast majority of those within the human hive are merely degenerate refugees from the monkey tribe- cowardly, bestial, restive, and capable of nothing but criminal and personal defilement.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I have always believed in certain principles, attempted to adhere to some sort of personal code. Rules are rules, and one of mine is “Say what you do, and do what you say.” Watching those incapable of such turpitude wriggle and splash in the ooze would afford me amusement, were I an evil man. If religion or the rule of law were my trip, condemnation and punishment would be all consuming passions- but all I ever aspire to be is a good man, and seeing those who should know better transgress this threshold between right and wrong just makes me sad.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There are things you do not wish to invoke upon yourself. You never want to say any phrase containing the word “fuck” to an on duty New York City Police Officer, for instance, nor get into a drinking contest with Russians or Koreans. Never date a woman who is named after a luxury car, and if you find a dusty book of incantations in some cabin in the woods- do not read from that book aloud. You have no idea what it is you might call into existence.
Upcoming tours:
The Insalubrious Valley– Saturday, May 25, 2013
Newtown Creek walking tour with Mitch Waxman and Atlas Obscura, tickets now on sale.
The Poison Cauldron- Saturday, June 15, 2013
Newtown Creek walking tour with Mitch Waxman and Atlas Obscura, tickets on sale soon.
Kill Van Kull- Saturday, June 22, 2013
Staten Island walking tour with Mitch Waxman and Working Harbor Committee, tickets now on sale.
The Newtown Pentacle 