Posts Tagged ‘Pickman’
Burgundy Crow
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Wandering along the border between Ridgewood, Brooklyn, and Maspeth one afternoon- heading for one of the demoniac terminus points of the Newtown Creek’s tributaries found on Metropolitan Avenue, I realized that I was very much on the wrong side of the tracks.
from wikipedia
The majority of the neighborhood covers a large hill, more than likely part of the glacial moraine that created Long Island, which starts at Metropolitan Avenue, rises steeply for about two blocks, then slopes down gently. A good example of just how steep the hill is can be found at Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal Parish. The Front Entrance of the Church, which is at street level on 60th Place, is almost level with the second floor of the Parish school right next door.
Major streets in Ridgewood include Forest Avenue, Fresh Pond Road, Myrtle Avenue, and Metropolitan (“Metro”) Avenue. All of these streets are narrow two-lane roads (with parking lanes), and the high volume on these streets can cause traffic tie-ups during rush hour. The intersection of Fresh Pond and Metropolitan is especially notorious for being a bottleneck. The main shopping areas are on Myrtle Avenue and Fresh Pond Road. Other, smaller shopping strips are located on Metropolitan Avenue, Forest Avenue, and Seneca Avenue.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Shabby and poorly kept, these industrial neighborhood scenes observed in this angle between neighborhoods bred paranoia in your humble narrator, who is always given to musings and imaginings.
The people who work here, and even worse- those who live in the shadowed alcoves between buildings and along the rail culverts- would care little for the gentle ways and informed manner of one like myself. There are people, and other entities, which enjoy things around these parts exactly as they are.
from wikipedia
The area known today as Maspeth was chartered by Dutch and English settlers in the mid-17th century. The Dutch had purchased land in the area known today as Queens in 1635, and within a few years began chartering towns. In 1642 they settled Maspat, under a charter granted to Rev. Francis Doughty. Maspat became the first European settlement in Queens. The settlement was leveled the following year in an attack by Native Indians, and the surviving settlers returned to Manhattan. It wasn’t until nine years later, in 1652, that settlers ventured back to the area, settling an area slightly inland from the previous Maspat location. This new area was called Middleburg, and eventually developed into what is now the town of Elmhurst, bordering Maspeth. Following the immigration waves of the 19th century, Maspeth was home to a shanty town of Boyash (Ludar) Gypsies between 1925 and 1939, though this was eventually bulldozed.
The name “Maspeth” is derived from the name of Mespeatches Indians, one of the 13 main Indian tribes that inhabited Long Island. It is translated to mean “at the bad waterplace” relating to the many stagnant swamps that existed in the area.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My wanderings have brought me into contact with the high minded, the educated, and the entitled. From their offices in Manhattan, they spin a tale of “brownfield remediation” and “environmental reclamation” about the creek lands. They believe in policy, and regulation, and the force of law. Many have never walked these streets, and to quote a professor from a certain Manhattan university who was the institutions expert on this place- “ewww, it smells”.
She said this directly before one of her assistants, who wore sandals to Newtown Creek, stepped into a pile of animal droppings.
They also know nothing about the Crows.
from wikipedia
The scrap industry contributed $65 billion in 2006 and is one of the few contributing positively to the U.S. balance of trade, exporting $15.7 billion in scrap commodities in 2006. This imbalance of trade has resulted in rising scrap prices during 2007 and 2008 within the United States. Scrap recycling also helps reduce greenhouse gas emissions and conserves energy and natural resources. For example, scrap recycling diverts 145,000,000 short tons (129,464,286 long tons; 131,541,787 t) of materials away from landfills. Recycled scrap is a raw material feedstock for 2 out of 3 pounds of steel made in the U.S., for 60% of the metals and alloys produced in the U.S., for more than 50% of the U.S. paper industry’s needs, and for 33% of U.S. aluminum. Recycled scrap helps keep air and water cleaner by removing potentially hazardous materials and keeping them out of landfills.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This Crow, who we will refer to as “Burgundy Crow” or “BC”, was visiting a scrap yard with his load of cast off mattresses. I have witnessed, although I was to cowardly to use my camera to record it, such men burning the bedding in Greenpoint to free the steel coil springs from the fabric- and I have seen the end product being sold as scrap. “Red Crow” was mentioned in a Newtown Pentacle posting a while back, as was “Blue Crow“.
This is not the sort of industry that the people who run Manhattan believe to exist, and represent an underground cash based economy of subsistence labor which most would prefer not to mention at cocktail parties. It wouldn’t matter to them anyway, as the Crows currently do not deal or compete in speculative Real Estate- which is all that Western Queens represents to them.
from a recent Queenstribune report
A recent achievement is a new grant program that will use financial incentives to spur the cleanup and redevelopment of contaminated lands known as brownfields. More than $9 million in City funds will be available over the next several years to fund environmental planning, investigation and cleanup.
“As our population continues to grow, turning contaminated land into usable space will allow us to develop new housing, create more open space, and spur new job growth,” Bloomberg said. “By awarding grants to those committed to cleaning up and developing brownfield sites, we can start revitalizations that may not otherwise have occurred, and that will bring real benefits to local neighborhoods.”
bodily encumbrances
A personal note, and a “moving forward” statement of intent:
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sporadic will be the best case description of postings over the next few weeks. Binary forces, personal and professional, are exerting their pull on my attention and capabilities. Newtown Pentacle HQ (and our little dog Zuzu) is in the process of moving to a larger, brighter, and slightly cheaper domicile here in Astoria.
The exertions and cost of the move are complicated by the unique circumstance of needing to maintain a functioning studio, earn a living, and maintain some level of normalcy for the dog. Climbing back upon the corporate ladder (the above shot is the actual staircase at an ad agency called Digitas where I was employed for a while) to cover expenses is paramount. Freelancing is not the joy it once was, given the state of the economy and certain repressive regulations imposed by the federal government in order to guarantee extra- national agricultural workers the right to pay a social security tax they will never be eligible to collect during the last half of that abhorrent admixture of crypto fascist incompetence and corporate welfare led by a certain ex governor of Texas which is colloquially referred to as “The Bush administration”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dwindling, the small amount of treasure which greased the wheels of existence for your humble narrator needs replenishment. Dreams of caviar and champagne are not dancing in my mind, of course, I’m just hoping to continue to offer the dog an occasional “Jimmy Dean” and make sure the missus has something to open on Christmas morning.
Plans along this course introduce the notion of monetizing my efforts online, something I’ve always resisted, but certain realities have to be acknowledged. The whole “Gilman” thing with the tax people has created a new bill to pay, and belts are as tight as they will go- even with the several new holes hand punched beyond those that came pre installed when it was purchased during fatter times.
To this end, there will be a series of Newtown Pentacle products- photo books at first, probable introduction of advertising on the site (there are a LOT of you reading this blog these days), and a few other ventures which are at early stages of development. I’m not attempting to become crass, or commercial, but a humble narrator has to eat too. When I have a personal stake in something, i.e. I stand to make a couple of bucks off of it, I’ll state that flat out.
If this manumission to capitalism does not appear- in a notice about a working harbor, or Newtown Creek Alliance, or Newtown Historical Society event, know that its just “a get out the vote” or “put asses in the seats” effort on behalf of something worth doing.
uncanny light
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Disillusioned, desolate, and diseased– the endless byways of the Newtown Pentacle beckon- calling out to me- the barren, the confused, the discarded.
Always, it seems, an Outsider must keep to the shadows. This is best.
Paranoid, absent minded, and an unreliable physical coward– the feckless quisling who serves as your humble narrator once more offers devotions and attention to a great pattern etched beneath the cement, marching across its sunlit reality like some obsequious pilgrim. Certain realities have been made abundantly clear over the vernal months, confirming specific fears and betraying closely held beliefs. A stalking horse walks my lands.
While lost in the above soliloquy one afternoon, I was walking from Astoria to South Street Seaport‘s Pier 17, when I found this scene in Long Island City.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another crew of workmen were observed standing in a similar pit on the other side of the street- 23rd street, if you’re curious. My assumption was that they were feeding this copper tubing from one side of the street to the other, for some purpose of which I cannot hazard a guess. Perhaps the acolytes of that which does not think, or breathe, yet hungers; that thing which is rumored to exist in the crown of the nearby Citibank Megalith– desired to have a constant connection to the Court Square diner’s coffee station.
Who can guess, all there is… that might be down there?
cleanly picked
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On one of the periodic Working Harbor Committee trips across the estuarine expanses of New York Harbor, your humble narrator became paralyzed with terror when a benthic shadow slid alongside the vessel which carried my withered husk. The shape, as that’s all I saw of it, made no sense to me and matched no phyla or phenotype familiar to my admittedly limited experience. Imagination working, it was decided that the best course of action to steady my faltering sanity would be to focus in on those things material, tangible, and engineered according to the familiar laws of physics.
In this case, it was the Tugboat “Miss Gill” cruising in photogenic splendor against the mist wrapped backdrop of the shining city of Manhattan.
from norfolktug.com
The Miss Gill spent a year at Main Iron Works in 2005 having various tanks, exterior plate and bulwarks renewed. During this yard period her winch was completely rebuilt and two new 2′ cables were installed. We bought her during this shipyard renovation, operated the her for 24 months and in mid 2008 took her back to the yard for further investment. We replaced her main engines with Caterpillar tier II technology that make her an honest 3000BHP, her reduction gears were replaced with ZF technology, and new John Deere/Kohler generators were installed. These tier II engines are the most advanced electronic platform available.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The shadow, or shape, that I had spied was long obscured when a Coast Guard vessel suddenly burst into view. Fully armed, one of the redoubtable guardians of the archipelago’s frontier was manning a high caliber weapon and the boat was moving at a fantastic rate of speed, punching its way through the heavy wakes of ferry, tug, and ship alike. Recognizing that it shared some design characteristics with an NYPD harbor craft described in a recent post here- at your Newtown Pentacle- “exhalted beyond thought“, I noticed it was being followed by an even larger Federal boat.
I believe this to be a Defender class “Response Boat Small”.
from uscg.mil
Developed in a direct response to the need for additional Homeland Security assets in the wake of the September 11th terrorist attacks, the Defender Class boats were procured under an emergency acquisition authority. With a contract for up to 700 standard response boats, the Defender Class acquisition is one of the largest boat buys of its type in the world. The 100 boat Defender A Class (RB-HS) fleet began arriving at units in MAY 2002 and continued through AUG 2003. After several configuration changes, most notably a longer cabin and shock mitigating rear seats, the Defender B Class (RB-S) boats were born. This fleet was first delivered to the field in OCT 2003, and there are currently 357 RB-S boats in operation.
The 457 Defender Class boats currently in operation are assigned to the Coast Guards Maritime Safety and Security Teams (MSST), Maritime Security Response Team (MSRT), Marine Safety Units (MSU), and Small Boat Stations throughout the Coast Guard. With an overall length of 25 feet, two 225 horsepower outboard engines, unique turning radius, and gun mounts boat forward and aft, the Defender Class boats are the ultimate waterborne assets for conducting fast and high speed maneuvering tactics in a small deployable package. This is evidenced in the fact that several Defender Class boats are already in operation by other Homeland Security Department agencies as well as foreign military services for their homeland security missions.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was followed by a second and larger vessel, also with a manned weapons platform. If I’m correct, this is the Coast Guard “Response Boat Medium” or “RB-M”. Vessels of this design will automatically right themselves after being capsized, incidentally.
Whether or not these federal watercraft had arrived on the scene in connection with the subsurface apparition I had witnessed is anyone’s guess.
from uscg.mil
State-of-the-art marine technology makes the RB-M a high performer with waterjet propulsion, an advanced electrical system, and integrated electronics that allow greater control from the pilot house.
Technological and design features will improve search object tracking, water recovery efforts, crew comfort, and maneuvering/ intercept capabilities for defense operations. With the latest developments in integrated navigation and radiotelephony, command and control will be greatly enhanced, as will crew safety.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For such a busy waterway, modernity upon the Harbor of New York has not been kind to folklore. In the 19th century, lurid accounts of odd benthic organisms served to titillate and excite the attention of small boy and adult alike filtered in from the trans-atlantic routes. Stories of the Ottoman territories, and far away China, and the exotic British Raj.
There aren’t many tales I can point to which might describe anything like the shape I saw, suffice to say it was something like an egg all caught up in wriggling ropes. Most of the 19th century reports describe literal sea-serpents, but such saurian behemoths would be easy prey for the Coast Guard.
from wikipedia
The response boat-medium (RBM) is a 45-foot (13.7m) utility boat used by the United States Coast Guard. It is intended as a replacement for the Coast Guard’s fleet of 41′ utility boats (UTB), which have been in use by the Coast Guard since the 1970s. The Coast Guard plans to acquire 180 of these RB-Ms over a 6–10 year period. The boats will be built by Kvichak Marine Industries of Kent, Washington and Marinette Marine of Manitowoc, Wisconsin.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It has always puzzled me, the way that New York City is nearly devoid of supernatural lore, while its counterparts- Boston to the north, and Philadelphia to the south are so rich in it. Connecticut and the corridor of towns and cities that line the Hudson all the way to its font in Lake Tear of the Clouds compose one of the great occult highways. Utopias and experiments in urban planning line the river, as do tales of hessian horsemen and ghostly ferries and trains. It all stops at the Bronx, though.
Perhaps its the financial realities of New York City, the no nonsense and to the minute mentality, or maybe its the street lighting- but London is very much in the same vein of city as we are, and they’re the original inventors of gothic spooky.
Maybe it’s that in New York, you’re biggest fear isn’t what goes bump in the night but rather losing your job, or getting into trouble with some all too human monsters.
for an overwhelming example of the defense industry’s love of CGI and fancy web design, click here to check out the USCG sitelet for the RB-M, which includes an interactive 3D model and fancy graphics.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The shadow I observed seemed to be heading toward Red Hook, but the likely explanation was that the nearby Staten Island Ferry had simply cast a refracted image of itself or that the wake of a passing tuboat had disturbed some riverine sediments. The coincidence of the arrival of two armed Coast Guard vessels was just part of some regular patrol schedule, not a response to some unknown thing which could not possibly exist down there.
Right?
from wikipedia
“Burned-over district” refers to the religious scene in upstate New York in the early 19th century, which was repeatedly “burned over” by religious revivals of the Second Great Awakening.
The term was coined by Charles Grandison Finney who in his 1876 book Autobiography of Charles G. Finney referred to a “burnt district” (p78) to denote an area in central and western New York State during the Second Great Awakening. The name was inspired by the notion that the area had been so heavily evangelized as to have no “fuel” (unconverted population) left over to “burn” (convert).
When religion is related to reform movements of the period, such as abolition, women’s rights, and utopian social experiments, the region expands to include areas of central New York that were important to these movements.
Remember, remember the 23rd of August
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Supernal terror greets the calendar’s arrival on the Vulcanalia – or the 23rd of August, a chilling sense memory of forgotten anniversaries and lost worlds. Woe to we unlucky few, when the question raised by that hated phrase- “for whom the bell tolls?” – may only be answered by glancing in a mirror. In that moment, when an abominable eidelon of degenerate appearance appears within the framed glass, remember 1967 and 1968.
Realizing, some days ago, that this year’s anniversary of that annum horriblum was once more upon us- and worse still- that the abundance of cemeteries which garland the Newtown Pentacle would provide ideal conditions for a virtual army to form up virtually undetected. In the name of the community at large, I contacted expert advice, hoping to gain some reassurance that those events of the winter of 1967 and spring of 1968 which played out in the back woods of Pennsylvania would not be repeated.
Into balls of crystal was the gaze of a humble narrator cast.
from wikipedia
Radio reports explain that an epidemic of mass murder is sweeping across the eastern seaboard. The creatures are consuming the flesh of their victims. A subsequent broadcast reports that the murders are being perpetrated by the recently deceased who have returned to life, dubbed ‘ghouls’. Experts, scientists and military are not sure of the cause of the reanimation, but one scientist is certain that it is the result of radioactive contamination from a space probe that exploded in the Earth’s atmosphere. A final report instructs that a gunshot or heavy blow to the head will stop the ghouls and that posses of armed men are patrolling the countryside to restore order.
from youtube:
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Roma woman who read my tea leaves in her store front chapel began to sweat profusely when my query for divination was put forward. “Who asks such things?” she said, and told me to leave. Oddly, she threw a broom down on the floor and spit upon it, while performing a wild gestural dance with her hands.
I think that she may have been flashing me some kind of “gang sign” but I’m not that into Hip-Hop, so I don’t know.
Cursing my inability to interact with my fellow travelers upon this mortal coil, I decided to visit with a group of birds in Astoria whom I believe are attempting to communicate with us via a language of musical notation. Whether they are agents of an external sentience or have developed some sort of telepathic group mind, I cannot say, however when a question is put to them the entire flock will rearrange themselves into different patterns.
Strange, unfortunately- another of my deficiencies is the ability to read musical notation.
from wikipedia
According to the tenets of Vodou, a dead person can be revived by a bokor, or sorcerer. Zombies remain under the control of the bokor since they have no will of their own. “Zombi” is also another name of the Vodou snake lwa Damballah Wedo, of Niger-Congo origin; it is akin to the Kikongo word nzambi, which means “god”. There also exists within the West African Vodun tradition the zombi astral, which is a part of the human soul that is captured by a bokor and used to enhance the bokor’s power. The zombi astral is typically kept inside a bottle which the bokor can sell to clients for luck, healing or business success. It is believed that after a time God will take the soul back and so the zombi is a temporary spiritual entity. It is also said in voudou legend, that feeding a zombie salt will make it return to the grave.
from youtube:
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At Calvary Cemetery, whose hallowed ground will most likely (and paradoxically) be the safest location in the Greater City if events unfold like the flower of some loathsome Lily, the Groundling Burrowers were consulted. It is whispered that is they who convey the messages of the living to the underworld, and that sometimes they will bring something back to the surface from those below, if the right sort of payment is offered. Costly, their price is paid nevertheless and assurances were offered by certain subterrene potentates who would prefer to remain anonymous that this would be a year like any other.
But, all rabbits are tricksters, even the demonic kind.
from wikipedia
The zombie apocalypse is a particular scenario of apocalyptic fiction that customarily has a science fiction/horror rationale. In a zombie apocalypse, a widespread (usually global) rise of zombies hostile to human life engages in a general assault on civilization. Victims of zombies may become zombies themselves. This causes the outbreak to become an exponentially growing crisis: the spreading “zombie plague/virus” swamps normal military and law enforcement organizations, leading to the panicked collapse of civilian society until only isolated pockets of survivors remain, scavenging for food and supplies in a world reduced to a pre-industrial hostile wilderness.
The literary subtext of a zombie apocalypse is usually that civilization is inherently fragile in the face of truly unprecedented threats and that most individuals cannot be relied upon to support the greater good if the personal cost becomes too high. The narrative of a zombie apocalypse carries strong connections to the turbulent social landscape of the United States in the 1960s when the originator of this genre, the film Night of the Living Dead, was first created.
from youtube:
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Finally, “that which might exist down there”- swirling about the shadowed bottom of Dutch Kills, in the oneirontic clays and black mayonnaise which distinguish the soft bottom of all the tributary waterways which connect to the lacerated flow of the Newtown Creek- was consulted.
From a throat whose gentype and phyla is not speculated upon, suspected, or even proposed to exist- an unknowable, indescribable, and unguessable gelatin approximation of human speech – voiced in a manner which one does not hear, but instead perceives from a series of monotonous sense impacts- spoke.
Apparently, we’re going to be OK today. All sources agree that the Zombie Holocaust will not begin anew in 2010, on this 42nd anniversary of the famed “Night of the Living Dead”.
And writing this post on my Birthday is a little present to myself, just in case you thought I’d finally gone off the deep end of the Creek.
from youtube.com
