Posts Tagged ‘Long Island City’
learnt tongue
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly downtrodden, your humble narrator suffers from his own company. Often has one been told that he is best taken in limited dosages, but for me there is no escape, and I am forced to live with myself. Like a canine with too much zeal, accordingly, efforts are made to tire myself out on long walks in an effort to save the furniture from being chewed on. Recent endeavor carried me through Long Island City on a particular and brightly lit day.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly erected by the scions of the Real Estate Industrial Complex, the glass and steel horrors which loom like Polyphemus over the ancient buildings of the neighborhood nevertheless act as reflectors and illuminate the shadowy warrens of a post industrial landscape. Refraction and specular effects throw arcs of cold light about which change by the minute.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly envisioned, the master plan for this part of the universe demands that these towers shall rise to challenge the clouds. Someday, perhaps only a decade away, the sky will be occluded by these oblique residential boxes of glass. When the shadow falls, and a permanent pall overlies the ancient streets of Western Queens, where will one bathe in the light of the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself? What succor will there be found in Long Island City save that of artisanal baked goods and from the purveyors of craft beers?
Project Firebox 54
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly grafiti’d, the sentinel stands on the corner of Van Dam and Hunters Point in Queens. It witnesses thousands passing by daily in motor vehicular transit. How many in turn acknowledge it?
trembling protest
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just the other day, one was strolling along Jackson Avenue in Long Island City and enjoying the late afternoon haze of auto exhaust when I decided to avoid a group of rough and aggressive looking youngsters by ducking down a dead end called Dutch Kills Street. Haughty and diffident, these unscrupulous looking minors had perhaps reached the third grade, but realizing that they have spent their short lifetime playing violent video games and were therefore potential killers, your humble narrator decided to walk the familiar path of ignominy and hide from them.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Such physical cowardice has often proven to be the better part of valor for one such as myself, a shunned and awkward thing which resembles a man. Dutch Kills Street, where the native art form of Queens (illegal dumping) is practiced wholly, is overflown by structures sprouting out from the Great Machine at nearby Queens Plaza. Vehicular traffic departing and approaching the mighty Queensboro bridge hurtles along overhead, and the street grade lanes end at the fence lines of the titan Sunnyside Yards..
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the end of the street was observed another of the curious shoes which I’ve been noticing scattered around in similarly desolate locales over the last few months. Odd bordering on obsequious, the presence of just one half of the mated pair- again and again- just makes a little bell go off in my head when I see it. It is common to see all sorts of domestic and personal goods scattered about the neighborhoods surrounding the fabled Newtown Creek, but the homogeneity of these singular shoe sightings simply suggests something sinister and suspicious.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The rough looking group of third graders had noisily passed the intersection of Jackson and Dutch Kills, heading towards Tower Town down in Hunters Point. They were assembled in a “skirmish line” formation, walking abreast of each other while in the company of a group of women who seemed to have some measure of control over their movements. Some of these women had far younger children with them, who were being transported in bizarre cart like machines- whose appearance I did not like, I should add- which I found disconcerting. Your humble narrator hid behind a pile of trash for awhile, then fled the scene with haste.
found unconscious
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Whilst roaming about Long Island City recently, one has come to the realization that the long economic doldrums affecting and stultifying the rapacious desires of the Real Estate Industrial Complex have seemingly come to an end. A recent flurry of high profile constructions, demolitions of centuried warehouses, and industrial tumult points to this fact.
Accordingly, this means that several long standing structures are likely not long for this world.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator has little need for sprockets, bearings, or pulleys. However, this business on Jackson Avenue hosts a charming mid 20th century bit of signage which answers some need which dare not speak its name within me. A resume and history of “Century Rubber Supply” is beyond my capability or desire to delve into, and I’ve never shopped there, I just like their signage. Enormous construction efforts are underway all around the diminutive structure, and the rest of the block it occupies has shed itself of tenants.
In Long Island City, this indicates that the bell is tolling.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The malign ideation that dwells within the Megalith and its infinite army of acolytes seem to be on the right side of history. Sooner than later, one fears, the idiosyncratic wonders of Long Island City will soon be entirely replaced by shield walls of glass and steel.
Bland homogenization which stinks of the Crypto Fascist theories of LeCorbusier ruling the future is my fear, but that’s an opinion, and like the anus- everyone has one.
A singular question which will stain the lips of all the still unborn Queensicans of future times, I fear, will be: “where might I buy some sprockets?”. The very old folk who remember an earlier time will remain silent when their children offer this query, lest what else may have been lost is asked about.
shines thinly
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Early will your humble narrator be rising today, with intentions of loitering about the neighborhood for an extended period. It’s been a few weeks since my last merry perambulation carried me across the Pentacle and I look forward to where my feet may take me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Supernal glories abound, sights to see and inventory. Queens is calling.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Of course, that thing which cannot possibly exist at the cupola of the Sapphire Megalith in Long Island City will be watching. What’s a Saturday without a sense of latent menace and paranoia, after all?
The Newtown Pentacle 