Posts Tagged ‘newtown creek’
a Newtown Creek Alliance meeting
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Newtown Creek Alliance Meeting – 12/5
When: Monday, December 5th, 6:00pm
Where: Williamsburg Community Center, 195 Graham Ave, Brooklyn
The Newtown Creek Alliance will be meeting to to discuss Creek matters. Everyone is welcome. We will be discussing the next steps in the Superfund cleanup process, the progress of the Brownfield Opportunity Area plan, NCA’s educational programming, green infrastructure and green jobs at Martinez Playground, and forming working groups on bioremediation, solid waste, and education.
metempsychoses and shudders
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Abjurations of fealty to self interest aside, your humble narrator is suffering some sort of delirium these days. Wandering thoughts and an inability to maintain focus plague my waking hours, and certain hallucinatory visions experienced during the nocturne haunt. Conversation has become difficult to follow or respond to, and paranoid imaginings or unheralded agitations at obviously minor issues color my days with fear, aggression, and anxiety. All I can see lying before me is devastation, hopelessness, and a slouching path leading to destruction.
I’m all ‘effed up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Were it possible that I could just be like the humans who infest this great hive, satisfied with loping along the streets whilst spouting colorful aphorisms, pronouncing vainglorious affirmations of personal worth. If only adorning myself with gaudy baubles or tailored garments, reflecting the height of current taste and fashion, could allow surcease from the diabolical internal dialogues which torment and disabuse. Such adolescent fury and desire is unacceptable in an adult, let alone one whose beard has gone white.
The waste meadows are where I belong, their devastating loneliness and abandonment mirror my own.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Apotheosis finds a home here, along the tributaries of the Newtown Creek. Artifice is struck down by the concretized reality of hubris, and the shape of the future can be discerned in studying the past. Notions such as this force me into a separate form of existence which is ruled by the dark emotions of fear, resentment, and anger. Such is my lot then, to exist as the broken, the barren, and at the dazed and disappointed edge of man’s world.
I must find contentment in my role as Outsider, it would seem.
dark and stern
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just the other day, one observed this crow walking down the center median of the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge. For the purposes of nomenclature, we’ll refer to him as the Grey Crow. Even by the standards of their kind, this particular Crow seemed seedy and more than a little “off”. For those of you new to the ongoing story of the Crows- if a piece of metal, or a mattress, or anything shiny- finds its way to the sidewalk anywhere in western Queens or North Brooklyn, itinerant metal collectors like this gentleman sweep in and grab it. Soiled and blackened by their occupation, these foot soldiers of recycling then make their way to one of the several scrap metal dealers in the neighborhood, where they sell the materials at market rates and by the pound. Often, these fellows won’t wait for metals to reach the curbside midden, and they will harvest whatever metals they might happen across- as recently documented by Ms. Heather at NY-shitty.com.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While one applauds the industry of the Crows, for they are a hard working bunch who operate in an invisible and unspoken economy at the absolute bottom of the economic spectrum, they are often the proverbial “rats in the walls” of our community. One need only walk through one of the 22,000 square acres of cemetery which distinguish western Queens to see the effects of their actions. Monument and mausoleum are part of their harvest, and the valuable white bronze and copper adornments which have been pried loose from century old graves are testament to their actions. Of late, manhole and gas main covers have been part of their harvest. The Grey Crow didn’t seem to be carrying any of this illicit cargo, but these sullen and solitary men (they are almost always men) are opportunist scavengers nibbling in at the edges of civilization.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dark in aspect and mood, existing at the edge of law and society, the Crows are growing in population- no doubt due to the worsening economic conditions which have been felt by all. This Grey Crow drew my attention due to the reckless manner in which he crossed the busy Greenpoint Avenue Bridge, walking down the center median of the traffic choked span which crosses the malign Newtown Creek between Blissville in Queens and Greenpoint in Brooklyn. Like many of his kind, when he observed a shabby man in a black trench coat pointing a camera at him, sneering commentary and verbal threats were offered to that photographic mendicant, who remains as always- your humble narrator.
crowned with withers
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Apologies for the paucity of communique offered this week, as catching up with sundry and mundane details of both personal and professional incarnation has been all consuming. The Creek tours of last month, in addition to psychologically exhausting a humble narrator famous for his delicate constitution and frail health, caused a surfeit of t’s to miss their crosses and undotted i’s proliferate. For the next few days, expect a few pretty pictures but nothing too hardcore until I’ve caught up. Thanks to all who have written inquiring as to my status, everything is fine.
into the world
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sleep has not come easily for your humble narrator of late, and dreaming offers little nepenthe. Days and nights it would seem, are consumed with images of the dread Newtown Creek and its insalubrious valley. English Kills in particular, the logical paramount of the waterway and the heart of darkness itself, draws my attention.
It is important to mention here that I am speaking from a personal point of view in this post and not espousing a majority opinion or policy of any of the “groups” with which the Newtown Pentacle has become affiliated. There are those I work for, work with, or work for me- who might not agree with statements made in this post offered to stimulate discussion on “common wisdom”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A decision which proved controversial this summer, on several Newtown Creek boat tours, was my demand that we no longer cross the Metropolitan Avenue Bridge with the general public on board. This is a deviation from prior years, but the prurient interest and wonderment of viewing the place is far outweighed by the risk posed to those who are exposed to its poisons. If you want to go back there, there are other options and other parties who will take you. Often it will be in a small vessel, often a kayak. Which is the point of this missive.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned, last week your humble narrator met with that staff of Manhattan doctors which have long maintained my delicate equilibrium. One of the topics of examination which the white coat crowd brought forward to me was the environmental exposure which my activities along the Creek brings, the long term consequences of same, and certain laboratory testing which they would like me to undergo due to my walking its banks. Paradoxically, certain interests involved in the ongoing story of the Newtown Creek held me to task for statements about water quality as related to recreational boating, fearing that my opinions might harm their particular interests and provide fuel for their critics in officialdom.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Everybody’s friends at EPA are still in the process of discovering all that there may be which is buried down there, and until the results of their analysis are revealed (which will be nearly a decade from now)– no hard and fast statement about the water quality can be considered reliable or sound. Apocrypha and incomplete discoveries, however, suggest that a witch’s brew of worst case scenarios are to be found all along the Creek- and especially in the section of English Kills which lies beyond DUMABO (Down Under the Metropolitan Avenue Bridge).
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The “numbers” which most use to discuss water quality in this place are relative to the presence of microscopic entities like the enterococcus, bacterial counts of which are calculated relative to recent rain events and so called “outfalls”. Famously, the rule in most of NY harbor is to wait 72 hours after it rains before swimming or boating because of a “high count”, and the folks at DEP calculate the success of their endeavors based on an accounting of the population of this particular microbial specie (a Federal Standard, they used to use Fecal Coliform). Virii and Prions are neither tested for, nor counted.
When a beach is closed, its usually because “the count” is high, for instance. The difference to the surrounding waters which Newtown Creek presents is that sewer borne bacteria are merely the tip of the iceberg which floats in this stagnant water.
Don’t forget- orange juice and ice do not a screw driver make, it’s when you stir in the vodka that you achieve a proper and singular cocktail bearing a potency beyond that of its individual components.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
An enormous waste transfer station acts as a concentrating point for the putrescent waste of New York City just back there, producing an excruciating stink. The shorelines of this particular valley are lined with state superfund sites, and large sewer outfalls feed millions of gallons of human waste into English Kills annually. That CSO “flow” also carries with it every chemical which has passed through a human filter- birth control and steroid pharmaceuticals, undigestable food additives and dyes, and all the runoff from the gutters which carries solvents, automotive drippings, and whatever washes out of the enormous acreage of cemeteries which distinguish the neighborhoods around the Newtown Creek watershed.
Not trying to “gross you out”, but facts are immutably facts.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Detractors would offer that your humble narrator is not a doctor, scientist, or much of anything at all. They would further inform you that I am a doomsayer, alarmist, and given to making unfounded statements based on a layman’s understanding of the complex chemistry which composes the so called waters of Newtown Creek. They call me a vulgar fool as well, but not to my face.
All this is true, of course, but it doesn’t mean that I’m incorrect.
The Newtown Pentacle 