The Newtown Pentacle

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Although mysticism and the esoteric are dismissed casually (except for the dogma of organized religious denominations, of course, whose every fantastic claim of metacognition and supranormal “logic” is widely accepted as “gospel”), both the syncretic belief systems of foreign born peasant magick and long held folk superstitions are as much a part of the landscape of Western Queens and North Brooklyn as the concrete and steel which form it. The colonialists who conquered the western tip of Long Island were positive that witches, ghosts, and curses existed. Perhaps they were right, and perhaps we disregard their viewpoint at our peril. To wit, check out a posting which appeared here two years back- describing a haunting in Astoria.

The White Lady of Astoria, from a Halloween two years previous.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Personally witnessed, the vast cemeteries which distinguish and define western Queens and form the so called “Cemetery Belt” offer nocturnal privacy and ritual sanctity to 21st century sorcerers and other bizarre conjurors. Strange altars, burnt offerings, odd bits of symbolically knotted cord are so often observed by your humble narrator in these centuried polyandrions that scarce mention is made of them. One of the more obtuse and bold practitioners of the mystic arts used a certain hilltop in St. Michaels cemetery here in Astoria for rites that seemed to be tied to a lunar schedule for better than a year.

Pale Garden gathered together a series of postings on the weird activity at St. Michael’s Cemetery.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Found on a hill of Laurels, nearby that Lethe of New York City which is known as the Newtown Creek, First Calvary Cemetery was consecrated by the Archbishop of the Romans- Dagger John Hughes- in 1848. Visitors are warned not to spend too much time here, lest that which cannot possibly exist notice you. Sensitives and psychics avoid the place, for it is a font of buried ambition, and those who lie here refuse to be forgotten. Sanctified ground, the odd ceremonies which are observed at St. Michaels cannot take place here, due to the power of Dagger John’s wards, but still certain old world traditions and their leave behinds are observed in lonely corners and atop wind swept hills.

Remember the witch knots at Calvary, which were described in “Triskadekaphobic Paranoia“?

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The high art of a prelate like Dagger John, or the disgusting practice of degenerates like Aleister Crowley find commonality in highly intellectual and overtly ritual observances. Peasant magick, however, whose tradition stretches back to the debauchment of slavery and the colonial oppression of the aboriginal cultures of the Americas may be observed everywhere one goes. Whether it is the “blue eye” talismanic wards of the Hellenes or the corner store Botanica of the Latinos, peasant magick surrounds and infiltrates our modern communities. Not long ago, this altar of handmade artifice was observed.

Little Memories described the odd altar encountered on Broadway and 43rd street in Astoria.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Your humble narrator grows increasingly concerned that the dime store spiritualism of pop culture “ghost hunters” is propagating both an acceptance of unblinking credulity and “magical thinking” in our culture. Skepticism and high standards of proof are required for extraordinary claims, and pseudo scientific methodology masks the propagation of a mystical world view which has led the nation to the current circumstance which threatens not just our personal liberty but the very existence of constitutional republicanism. Don’t forget that the last President of this Republic started a war based on the notion that his personal Deity had put him in office to do so. Accordingly, one morning I set out for Calvary Cemetery with the intention of capturing a “ghost photo”.

Scenes familiar, and loved presented what might be a “ghost orb” or “dust” at Calvary Cemetery’s Almirall chapel.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Happy Halloween, folks, and if you’re looking for me today- I’m heading down to the Newtown Creek and will be searching high and low for all evidences of the Blissville Banshee.

I’ll be listening to this on my headphones, and would remind you that the old adage “The best trick of the Devil is convincing you that he doesn’t exist” is most often repeated by scurrilous and ambitious prelates trying to convince the gullible that their particular avatar of divinity does exist.