The Newtown Pentacle

The Newtown Pentacle is back in session.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

One has been creeping and crawling about, here in Astoria and in those spaces beyond, in pursuance of certain – lets just call it “esoteric” information. Hidden amongst the dross facts, the conventional interpretations, and the expected interpretations are hints at the true nature of things hereabouts. Dark undercurrents flow beneath the pavement here in the Newtown Pentacle, following ancient pathways which were wisely buried and carefully occluded by those generations for whom the setting of the burning thermonuclear eye of God itself meant naught but shadowed terror. Once, wolves prowled freely across the sunken meadows and painted nocturnal terror across the stinking marshes of western Queens and North Brooklyn. The Dutch, and later the Angles, went to great pains to hunt down and exterminate these canid predators – eventually causing their local extinction.

Who is to say, though, what moved into that niche once occupied by the wolves? Or what old world horrors the seafaring Nederlanders and Britons unknowingly carried here from their far flung journeys to the Far East? The settlers of this area were heretics and rebels, cultists who rejected the orderly religious practices of their times. Did Thomas Case and his followers speak truly when they promised adherents to their bizarre form of Quakerism that bodily transmogrification and eternal life could be attained upon this plane of material existence?

– photo by Mitch Waxman

During the two week interval which saw this, your Newtown Pentacle, enter into a “holding pattern” – your humble narrator has been traveling non stop across the megalopolis in pursuance of carefully hidden reference. Uncommented private libraries have been visited, and the counsel of diabolist and clergy alike have been sought. It is once again the “most wonderful time of the year” as the liturgical wheel rolls towards Hallowmas and Samhain. Those hidden waterways which still gurgle and splash beneath the sunlit streets, dripping into night black grottoes and hidden voids perverted by modernity’s sewage and filth… Do the phantoms of those primeval wolves gather along them even now?

Who can guess, all that there is, that might be buried down there?

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The presence of occultists and magick workers amongst us has long been established by multitudinous postings at this and other publications. Long time readers of this – your Newtown Pentacle – will attest to the presence of ritual altars and offerings found along area streets, railway junctions, and even within the gates of the mortuary complexes which distinguish this section of the megalopolis. Consultation with souls braver than myself confirms the presence of subterranean populations of humanity living in abandoned tunnels and forgotten vaults beneath the pavement. Forbidden books suggest that they might not be alone down there, and members of the underground communities refuse to speak, other than in hurried whispers, of things which stalk in the shadows.

It is best, ultimately, that those of us who exist in the open air warmed by the emanations of the burning thermonuclear eye of God itself remain ignorant of such things… or so they say.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Were it to become generally known what exists in the dank earth, amongst the plumes of industrial chemicals and atavist stream beds which litter the deep city, if the truth behind all of those “lost pet” posters were to be acknowledged… It might be enough to depopulate the City of Greater New York and signal the descent of  humanity into madness and the glad acceptance of a new dark age.

The good news in that, however, would be that rents would likely go down.

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