Archive for the ‘Queens’ Category
rhythmical promise
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Recently, occasion carried me down to Long Island City, where my stated goal was to catch the venerable East River Ferry and attend a meeting in Brooklyn Heights. It is somewhat ironic, to me at least, that the only mass transit pathway between two points on the western tip of Long Island that doesn’t involve transversing Manhattan is to use a ferry service set up to carry folks from the former to the latter. Unfortunately, just as I arrived at the dock, the boat was leaving, which in many ways is a metaphor for my entire life.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was no tragedy, as it offered an opportunity to linger and play around with some of that night photography I was talking about at the start of the week. Manhattan can be quite lovely when viewed from outside of itself, and some effort went into the endeavor. The Empire State Building, a shining beacon of hope erected during the deep despair of the Great Depression, never disappoints.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For some reason, the Freedom Tower will always be the name I call the building at One World Trade Center. Future generations will just call it whatever name they inherit from us, and Freedom Tower reminds me of those early days of the Terror War when terms like “blowback”, “freedom fries”, and “new normal” were coined. I think it’s important to remember that time, and that some symbolism is valuable even for the jaded mindset of modernity.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Such ruminations came to end, when the East River Ferry showed up. Their service has really matured in the last year, although the dock at Long Island City is in dire condition. It is temporary, of course, as the Hunters Point South development project surrounds and engulfs all in a shroud of ongoing construction.
fortunately verifiable
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
“Choose your battles” is what the old man used to say. Then he’d remind me of how I physically compared with other members of my peer group and advised “pick up something- a brick, pipe, garbage can lid- throw it at their head, and then run away as fast as I could”. Following this advice over the years, I’ve learned something. I am not a fast runner.
Walking, however, is something I can do for hours at a pop.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Choosing the battle, however, during the short and dark days of the winter is not always up to me. Complicating my life, the recent multiple day long spurts of rain has made getting out something of a luxury. One can withstand some amount of cold, or a limited quantity of wet, but not both. In recent years, your humble narrator has developed a nearly comic book level “vulnerability to cold”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s a funny thing. The various groups I work with along the Newtown Creek and New York Harbor have a lot of meetings which I am compelled to attend, whether it be out of interest or obligation. More often than not, these meetings take place far from home, and I will take advantage of “getting there” via scenic routes in order to collect photos and tour certain locales. Unfortunately, during the winter months, darkness begins as early as half past four in the afternoon, and these meetings often start more than hour or two after sunset.
Unable to follow the old man’s advice and choose my battles, as I cannot throw a brick at natures head, an attempt is underway to improve my “hand held at low light” photgraphic skill set.
bleak ice pinnacles
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Happy Christmas, don’t eat too much and end up like the guy in the shot above.
day’s gropings
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In the bizarre world which your humble narrator inhabits, a Christmas Eve post is as good a time as any to expand on a little enigma which has been bugging me. As you all well know by now, the long walks around the pentacle often offer bizarre or odd details which torment and tantalize ones imagination. On a recent perambulation, I noticed yet another one of the single shoes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My curse is to notice things like this. For much of 2012, I have been observing shoes- always singular, never in pairs- discarded along my route. Once or twice, I’ve seen multiple examples of castoff footwear, but even then- orphaned individuals rather than matched sets.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The shots above were gathered at 43rd street, off Northern Blvd. in Queens. Satisfied that I had documented this oddity, I continued on my path to a destination down in Long Island City. In accordance with habit, I found a moment to photograph and add to my library a few shots of the Megalith. Walking along Skillman Avenue, I was scanning the ground for more shoes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was around 36th street and Skillman that it occurred to me, suddenly, that I should look up. What did I spy, with my little eye?
Have a merry one lords and ladies.
ex oblivione
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Somehow, I’ve always known that I was destined to write the eulogy for the human race. Like yesterday’s posting, this one was written a couple of days in advance of the Mayan Apocalypse as Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself have sealed ourselves away in a sub astorian survival bunker with our little dog. Can’t imagine who might be reading this, or how, but epitaphs are required, I suppose.
Mayan Apocalypse Countdown: just 0 days left until the 13th b’ak’tun ends, initiating the Mayan Apocalypse. Today is December 21st, here comes the end of all there ever was and will be. Sayonara.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The devastation must be unendurable up there, with glowing clouds of radioactive dust illuminating the sooty black fumes billowing from an incinerated city. Has the cannibal instinct kicked in yet for the survivors, or do they yet cling to some myth of civilization?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The terrifying part, for the scientifically minded, must be the presence of the beasts of revelation. Those impossibly huge brass shelled locusts, the abominations of the sea, the fleets of alien warships plying the skies. Nibiru must be occluding the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself, rendering a permanent twilight with sooty gray clouds underlit by the crimson and orange of vain glory and hubris.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Down in the bunker, Our Lady and I plan on making hot cocoa today. Ruminations about our former lives are undoubtedly going to be a topic of conversation. The still suits we ordered from Amazon will provide us with an endless cycle of reclaimed urine, and the tons of MRE’s we have stockpiled should keep we apes and the canine happily fed.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The purpose of this posting, which Im sure will never be read by purely human eyes, is to eulogize the planet and all life upon it in general- not to gloat over my own safety and preparedness. In my former life on the surface, I once had the pleasure of meeting Douglas Adams- author of the Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy, who was a fine and clever chap. The ending of human civilization merits a quotation from the great satirist, I believe, so here goes: “So long, and thanks for all the fish”.
I will keep posting as long as the power holds out, good luck to all of you on the surface, and I- for one- welcome our new alien overlords.
Welcome to the 14th b’ak’tun.
