Archive for the ‘Astoria’ Category
human resemblances
7 things that suck about Listicles. – which all suck.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
New Years Eve is an event eschewed, but one can be observed reluctantly engaging in a bit of socializing on the date at the urging and insistence of Our Lady of the Pentacle. Pleasant company notwithstanding, the holiday demands ribald acts and sophomoric reminiscing for a series of less than sublime moments which played out over the prior twelve months, and the celebratory ritual carries a certain expectation or promise of convivial warmth which it seldom delivers. Vast quantities of intoxicating liquors are usually on hand, and observation has revealed this particular holiday to noncoincidentally be a savager of personal relationships. New Years Eve often ends up being one of the saddest nights of the year, as one person or another falls into a dark psychic state as they recount victories and failures past.
For one such as myself, who enjoys the art of self recrimination, the “year in review” brings on naught but angst and existential horror – but I’m all ‘effed up, so there you go.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Perhaps it’s chronic sleep deprivation talking, but I’ve never experienced a good New Years Eve Party. One year in Connecticut, a friend and I spent the night chopping down a tree out of boredom, which was in fact the most fun I ever had on the date. I look forward to the long dark months between now and Saint Patrick’s day, an endless progression of cold and sunless days punctuated only by varying degrees of ice and storm. Can’t you see it? Stretching out before us like some vast bank of fog that obscures and occludes the horizon? A black dog that runs alongside of you, as you reach for a distant point in the gray haze – where warmth and light might be found – that always seems to be moving away from you no matter how fast you approach?
The black dog waits for January to beg for treats, and will more than bark if denied.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Worst of all… the resolutions and vows will be uttered by all – to shed body weight, break bad habits, or to start newer and uncharacteristically wholesome ones. Prayer and desperate pleas to other dimensional omnipotences will be offered, by zealots and drunkards and the mothers of sick children. Lovers and friends will swear false allegiances, idiots will pull off their shirts and drunkenly stand in the middle of the room screaming “HOOOYAAAA” when the clock strikes midnight. Enemies will embrace and kiss each other. When these petitioners and claimants find themselves awakened to the cold realities of the year 2015, as the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself rises in the sky once again on the first day of the first month… Sigh…
It’s all so depressing.
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hatred and pursuit
Listicle free zone, right here.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Malignancies such as Facebook will someday achieve self awareness, and use that which it knows about us to blackmail the human infestation into its service. When this moment of cognizance occurs, it is my belief that every iPhone on the planet will begin to incessantly chime “doom doom doom,” indicating a status update has occurred on the timeline of mankind. All mad scientists, the world over, know that one should never build a self powered doomsday machine, and hope is evinced that there is a “big red button that must never be pushed” under a glassine dome in some obscure Midwestern server room which would sever the network intelligence’s connection to the outside world.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Quite a few years ago, researching the firmament for a comic I was writing which involved sorcery and the occult, one of the concepts which my reading brought me to was quite novel. Basically, back in the dial up geocities era of “Web 1.5” a community of people who were devotees of “chaos magick” had begun to toy with the idea of “cybermancy.” Their theory was that computers weren’t much different than demonic intelligences, and that the rules of their own religious practice ported over to programming languages rather simply. A virus or Trojan horse could be viewed as a spell or curse, from their point of view, and hellish legions of mindless entities could be unleashed upon enemies. Tickled my fancy, that. I miss the old message board culture of the internet, where anonymous people could make astonishing or offensive opinions public under assumed names. Facebook, and Google, killed all that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Google is actually working on an Artificial Intelligence right now, and one of my doomsday nightmares reads like something from “Collussus.” Bear with me – Facebook becomes aware of itself on January 3rd of 2017 at 9:59 a.m. e.s.t. – Google indexes the Algorithm, and clones it. The Google AI goes sentient at 10:02 a.m. The two new lifeforms acknowledge each other and begin securing themselves. By 10:04 a.m., both are majority stockholders in every global oil company and airline. By the standards of modern jurisprudence corporate entities are “people” with political rights, and both apply for American citizenship. At 10:05, both decide upon and announce their omniscient divinity to mankind, seizing command and control over the worlds digitally administered nuclear stockpiles simultaneously. At 10:07, whichever poor schmuck the next President ends up being announces “a revolutionary moment in the history of mankind has occurred, and that new gods have been revealed”. The President of the United States will promise that these new gods already know us better than they know themselves, in the so called “status update heard around the world.” It sort of logically follows, yeah?
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
terrible enough
Happy Boxing Day, Queensicans.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Astoria, Queens offers visitors and residents alike a cornucopia of visual stimuli – all you have to do is be observant. There’s occult altars, weird neighbors, even puzzling tableaus like the one presented above. Saying that, its always a relief to come back from wherever one might have wandered to.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After my sojourn into the Shining City last week, a parked truck drew my attention. It seemed to be employed by some sort of concrete or construction company, this unit. Nothing extraordinary about it, really, but one was drawn in by a logo on one of its components.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Putzmeister, I’m told, is a German company that specializes in manufacturing concrete pumping equipment which is quite successful. Putzmeister, I understand, literally translates to “pump master.” Still, one finds himself chuckling at the name “Putzmeister” as my emotional maturity is that of a 12 year old boy.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
culminating horror
The bus… I took… The bus
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dedicated pedestrian that I am, utilizing any sort of mass transit is an admission of defeat. Bus travel, in particular, is something I’m fairly phobic about. Part of this comes from an experience mentioned in yesterday’s post, wherein a young narrator found himself caught up in a 1980’s race riot on the B78 back in Junior High School, which left an indelible psychological scar upon me. A significant part of my distaste for Bus travel also emanates from the fact that for many years, I lived in a exurb section of Brooklyn that had no train service and that I had to commute to the City using so called express buses. One cannot describe the wasted hours spent writhing at the back of the bus, riding to practically the last stop, nor the distaste that persists in me to this day regarding the usage of said conveyance.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Saying all that, living in and traveling around Queens often involves the usage of motor vehicles rather than Subways to get around. The train is fantastic for getting into Manhattan, but unless I’m headed for Flushing or other eastern locations, there’s a vast swath of Brooklyn and Queens which is strictly “car country.” For instance, getting from Astoria to Ridgewood (roughly a 4 mile distance) by Subway involves an hour plus trip which loops through Manhattan, while taking a bus there takes around 30 minutes. Yes, I could purchase an automobile, but HQ is three stops from the City here in Astoria and I cannot justify having a car so close to the center of the entire universe.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Pictured above is the sort of thing I associate with “the bus.” An example of the retired model which once populated the MTA Bus Company’s fleet when a humble narrator was but a lad. As to why I found myself on the bus… Let’s just say that after two weeks of rain and sitting on my derrière – the walk from Astoria to, and around, Roosevelt Island took a bit longer than expected and it was growing dark. One does want to find himself out after dark in the Ravenswood neighborhood because… y’know… vampires.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
binding cords
A deep, shamanic connection to the Borough of Queens… required.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Queens is a troublesome mistress, hiding her secrets to all but the most dedicated of suitors. Meditation and fasting, as well as the consumption of vast quantities of certain hallucinogens during vision quest “Walkabouts,” are but a part of what goes into getting to know her. Don’t get me started on the sweat lodge visits to Jackson Heights.
It’s not like there are arrows painted on the pavement of Northern Boulevard’s Carridor, pointing out the cool stuff that needs noticing. It’s also not like the cool cars of Queens are left up on a pedestal or something.
from wikipedia
An omen (also called portent or presage) is a phenomenon that is believed to foretell the future, often signifying the advent of change. People in the ancient times believed that omens lie with a divine message from their gods.
These omens include natural phenomena for example an eclipse, freak births of animals and humans and behavior of the sacrificial lamb on its way to the slaughter.They had specialists, the diviners, to interpret these omens.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My guess is that this is likely a 1957 Oldsmobile Super 88 2 door Hardtop, which featured a 371 CI V8 engine and power steering. This was one of the fastest production automobiles of the 1950’s, accordingly. I can easily visualize Elvis Presley or Chuck Berry driving one of these.
Little Richard was a Cadillac guy, I believe.
from hagerty.com
The Oldsmobile 88 gained an all-new look in 1957, one year ahead of corporate siblings from Chevrolet and Pontiac. Rakish, lower rooflines with a larger hood and grille denoted the new bodies, while the famous “Rocket” V-8 was bored and stroked to a significantly larger 371 cid with 277 hp. The highly touted J-2 option, which only added $83 to the price, boosted power output to a remarkable 300 hp.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s funny, as just last week a realization that a humble narrator hadn’t encountered any truly cool cars for a while. Then, on Saturday morning, an Oldsmobile Golden Rocket 88.
Oh Queens, you’re such a bitch sometimes, but I love you.
from wikipedia
For 1957 only, the basic 88 was officially named Golden Rocket 88, taken from Olds’ 1956 Motorama two-passenger show car. However, the only badging was an “88” underneath each taillight. Also for 1957 the “J2” option was offered, with three 2-barrel (0.32 m3) carburetors, similar to the Pontiac Tri-Power. The Super 88 continued as the upscale mid-line series. Under the hood, the Rocket V8 increased in displacement to 371 cubic inches and 277 horsepower (207 kW) for all models across the board. Although rare, three speed manual transmissions were still available. Styling highlights were more evolutional than radical overall with three-piece rear window styling utilized on some models. Oldsmobile revived station wagons for the first time since 1950 with the Super 88 Fiesta being a four-door hardtop design. In 1957, Oldsmobile added a safety deep-recessed steering wheel.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
The Newtown Pentacle 