Posts Tagged ‘Queens Plaza’
innermost monstrosities
I know things, I tell you, things!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Owing to it being Columbus Day and all, one got to thinking what the old boy might have seen were he to have ever made it to Newtown Creek. Columbus, of course, never got anywhere even remotely close to NYC – but if today’s post was a thought experiment designed to picture a spot that the Dutch Kills Tributary of Newtown Creek flowed to prior to European colonization… well, 40th avenue between 29th street and 30th is a darned good place to visit. Just saying.
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fancying that
The new normal, the way we live now, and so on.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The recent imbroglios surrounding breaches of security in and around the fabled Brooklyn Bridge does not surprise one at all. For several years, your humble narrator has been pointing out that there is no security whatsoever – outside of highly visible areas within Manhattan – being provided to NYC’s infrastructure other than “security theater” which is a sort of kabuki. Billions have disappeared into the black hole that is “homeland security” over the last decade, and when officialdom is asked where it has gone the response is often a play on “if I told you, I’d have to kill you to maintain the secret.” Meanwhile, within a period of just a few weeks over the summer, foreign nationals have managed to penetrate the so called “ring of steel” at the Brooklyn Bridge twice.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One cannot count the number of times that this blog has discussed this “apeshit security situation” – whether it be fences left unlocked and unguarded at the Sunnyside Yard on holiday weekends (or any of the hundreds of unmonitored infrastructure sites in LIC which are left to fend for themselves) or the abrogation of any semblance of sense that allows anonymous cars and trucks to be parked directly under the structural elements of area bridges. If a group of German hipsters can swap out the flag on the Brooklyn Bridge, they had time… and opportunity. Should a bad actor have gotten up there, and not some Russian tourist hoping to take a selfie just a few weeks after the flag incident, we’d be having a very different conversation than whether or not the Mayor’s family danced well at the Caribbean Day Parade or not.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m reminded of a presentation and speech offered by a certain Lieutenant in the NYPD Counter Terrorism Unit who showed up in Astoria at a community meeting around a year and a half ago. The officer instructed the citizenry that should they witness anyone taking pictures of the various area bridges, a call to the Police should be made, intoning that photographers are probably working with foreign Terrorist organizations as scouts. This fellow turned up in combat gear, wearing an aviation jumpsuit and sporting a speed holstered automatic weapon rather than a standard NYPD duty or even dress uniform. It should be pointed out that despite his rhetoric, and the billions that have been poured into securing the vital infrastructure of NYC, I still could have done whatever I wanted under the Queensboro bridge when shooting these pictures of its underpinnings just last week (and on the very same day the NYPD Commish announced a tightening of the reigns around such structures). There are no cameras, drones, sensors, or even some schmuck cop who has been consigned to walking a beat keeping an eye on things down here. Where has all that Homeland Security money gone? Are we allowed to know, or is that a state secret?
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This weekend-
Saturday, September 6th, The Insalubrious Valley of the the Newtown Creek
Walking Tour with Atlas Obscura, click here for tickets and more info.
furious delirium
Your music sucks, why do you play it so loud?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In the midst of everything else, a humble narrator has to worry about getting the laundry done, which is not always as easy a proposition as it sounds like. More often than not, indecision about the logical process by which one arrives at some sort of conclusion about whether a soiled garment should be considered for the “colors” or “darks” bags reduces one to gibbering madness. Crouched in the corner of the room, wild eyed and slaked with cold perspiration, I often find myself impaled on the horns of dilemma. That navy blue shirt… where does it belong? Does it belong? Where do any of us belong? This is why I largely dress in black.
All ‘effed up, me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dire portent abounds. A general tension is palpable, and even the normally laconic army of bicycle delivery guys seem tense, here amongst the raven tressed hillocks of Western Queens. As one sorts his socks and towels, preparing them for drop off at the local laundry shepherd, a distinct sensation of dread permeates the atmosphere hereabouts. Even my little dog Zuzu seems to sense approaching calamity, as she drums her claws across the worn floorboards. At least the humidity seems to have broken.
I fear the polar vortex itself might return, carrying with it certain things which Esquimaux legend only hints at, and am quite unsure if I should send certain articles of Our Lady of the Pentacle’s wardrobe to the laundromat or segregate them out for dry cleaning.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Were this the 21st century that a humble narrator was promised, when still an innocent moppet – the one which had jet packs and moving sidewalks and flying cars – we’d all be dressed in self cleaning space age fabrics which would obviate little need for the services of the laundry shepherds. These were supposed to be “onesies,” or speed suits as Dr. Venture would refer to them, whose coloration would be indicative of social rank. Unfortunately, the world we’ve got is neither “Brave” nor “New.”
Oh no… what do you do with a sock that has red, white, and black stripes? Oh dear lord… the horror of it all…
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
to fade
The Stygian depths, in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After a glorious day, enjoying the emanations offered by the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself whilst wandering about the heart of the human infestation, one was forced into entering the underworld to return home. Neither heroic journey, nor some Campbellian metaphorical archetype, your humble narrator entered the vast network of verminous tunnels that underlie the metropolis with the intention of riding within those contrivances which ply them. Unfortunately, as one of those periodic service interruptions which plague the weekend was underway, the trains were crowded… and with families. Large families with hundreds of kids.
As a note, were I to have behaved in this manner in public – with or without my parents present – as soon as word of it reached them, they would have murdered me where I stood. A homicide – and I’m not kidding – and it would have been my mother who ended me.
Statements like this are how I know that I’m getting old.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Upon arriving at Queens Plaza, where my personal radar or “Spidey Sense” always tingles, I discovered three things.
The first was this rather bold graffito, whose meaning or intent is something unknown and that I can only speculate about. There are organized crime elements, of fearsome reputation, who use the number 13 as part of their “trade dress” or “branding” at work in western Queens – this might be them. As an old and solitary fellow, I really have no clue about such matters, although one suspects that more than a few could identify the tag and provide a back story.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The second thing encountered was what seemed to be a broken arrow, or perhaps the snapped wooden stick of a flag. It was arranged nearby the graffiti, so I like to think that some clandestine drama had played itself out here on the local side of the platform. All sorts of urban scenarios could have occurred, many of which might have ended with the above scene.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The third thing I found was a neighbor that was also returning home after a day spent out and about. The fellow greeted me and asked how I was doing. Tersely spoken, my reply was “that this city could use a good plague.” I could have offered “people walk around like they’re safe or something,” or one of the other favorite mottoes of youthful times. He seemed disturbed by my answer, and queried if I really meant that.
The human infestation can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, for a creature like myself.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
There’s a Newtown Creek walking tour, and a Magic Lantern show, coming up.
Wednesday, June 11th, Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show with Brooklyn Brainery.
Click here for tickets and more info.
Sunday, June 15th, DUPBO – Down Under the Pulaski Bridge Onramp
A FREE tour, courtesy of Green Shores NYC, click here for rsvp info
likewise thought
From Dutch Kills, the neighborhood.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Marching home one recent afternoon, a humble narrator was confronted with a scene that beggared description. A taxi pulled over to the side of the road, 39th avenue actually, and the driver jumped out and went into a bodega. He left his car door wide open, and the engine running. “Steal me” was the first thing that came to mind, but bear in mind that I grew up in Brooklyn, so I think “Steal Me” a lot.
Please, steal me, is what this scene says.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Lucifer lays little Easter Eggs like this in front of me all the time. Temptation, temptation. I’m certain that I would be sitting in the back seat of an NYPD crusader shortly after jumping in the front seat of this cab, but… man alive… this is two blocks from Queens Plaza, and you leave your door not only open… but the engine running as well? The taxi should have been stolen just to teach the guy a lesson.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The driver eventually sauntered out of the bodega – emerging with a cup of coffee. The fellow resumed his station behind the wheel, and turned back into traffic. A humble narrator blurted out, using my best Brookleiner accent, “Hey, dis is New York City, Yo. Da fuck were’s you tinking?”.
He replied that since nothing happened, I was crazy, and inquired whether or not I needed a ride somewhere.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
There are two Newtown Creek walking tours, and a Magic Lantern show, coming up.
Saturday, May 31st, Plank Road with Newtown Creek Alliance.
Click here for tickets and more info.
Saturday, June 7th, 13 Steps around Dutch Kills with Atlas Obscura.
Click here for tickets and more info.
Wednesday, June 11th, Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show with Brooklyn Brainery.
Click here for tickets and more info.
The Newtown Pentacle 