Posts Tagged ‘queens’
coffin shaped
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Back in November, two of my pals from Newtown Creek Alliance – Willis and Gil – got it into their heads to organize a street end cleanup at the Borden Avenue street end in Queens’ Long Island City section. This allowed me to bust their balls by calling the duo “Gillis” for the day, so win. Luckily, the NYC DEP wanted to help and they arranged for a series of dumpsters to be trucked in to support the effort. About 50 people showed up to perform the labor, including a decent number of teenagers. One of those teens dug the creepy baby doll pictured above out of the poison loam surrounding this distaff tributary of the fabulous Newtown Creek.
For the whole set of shots from the effort, wherein you’ll be able to witness the astounding four dumpsters worth of junk that the community gathered during the day, click here.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The group’s labor came to an end when a magnificent band of thunderstorms blew through LIC. The high flying Queens Midtown Expressway, whose steel truss roadway hangs some 106 feet over Dutch Kills, provided us with some shelter, but everyone was huddled up against the sides of trucks and wooden fence panels to avoid the horizontal rain. A massive amount of water poured out of the atmosphere, but as is the case with such weather, it was all over in about a half hour.
That’s when we heard a rushing/roaring sound.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Found alongside the Borden Avenue street end is a storm sewer which empties into Dutch Kills. This particular one drains a couple of large industrial properties as well as a couple of streets and a section of the aforementioned Queens Midtown Expressway section of the Long Island Expressway. Thousands of gallons of storm water were ploughing out of the pipe and discharging into the waterway.
What fun.
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retreating figure
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Five thousand four hundred seventy nine days ago a humble narrator was having a pretty bad morning (that’s about one hundred thirty one thousand and four hundred ninety six hours, if you want to get granular). When you learn to think about your life in terms of days rather than rounding up to years, it changes the perspective. My bad morning knocked me off the self chosen path I used to be on and set me on the current one. Ultimately, that bad morning resulted in the shots you see in today’s post being gathered on a cold November night in Queens Plaza by a wandering mendicant cloaked in a filthy black raincoat.
As a note, there are vampires residing in the steel rafters of the elevated tracks in Queens Plaza. You’ll be walking along minding your own business when a bluish white arm suddenly thrusts down at you, snapping its hand open and closed in a desperate attempt at clutching on and pulling you up to feed its need. It’s best to carry a garland of garlic in your camera bag when scuttling through at night, lest you get got. Because of buried streams all around Queens Plaza and the nearby Sunnyside Yards, the Vampires get stuck in this area, as they’re unable to cross over running water. That’s something I’ve learned in the last 5,479 days.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve learned to notice everything around me in this interval. Up, down, all around. Not to take things or people for granted, how not to be cruel or cowardly, and to always be curious. Amazing individuals have entered my life, including several exemplars whom I refer to as “the real thing.” I’ve found myself walking amongst princes and potentates, over bridges and through tunnels, and have seen things which only a handful of other people even know about. It’s been an exhausting 5,479 days, during which I’ve captured and published some 87,186 photographs of what I refer to as “the study area.” What you’re reading right now is the 3,390th posting of the Newtown Pentacle.
Nothing in Queens Plaza is real. The entire place is a built environment, and even the ground you’re walking or driving on is the roof of a structure. Tunnels shoot through the loam, allowing shiny metal boxes to move about below. There’s running water, streams and creeks which only the Lenape had names for, somewhere at the bottom of it all. That’s the flowing water which precludes the Queens Plaza vampires from invading the dense residential communities of nearby Sunnyside or Astoria. There’s also the Mafia, of course, who had long been at war with the undead back in Sicily. The Ottomans brought the Nosferatu plague to them, which then spread out into Eastern Europe on Turkish trade routes. When both vampire and mafioso came to North America in the 19th century, a new front in an old war opened up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
131,496 hours ago – which translates to some seven million, eight hundred eighty nine thousand and 760 minutes – my very bad morning occurred. There’s multiple timelines which can branch out of that moment, and someday while attending a trans dimensional Council of Mitch’s meeting I hope to explore what happened to all of the other versions of me that walked out of the moment. I’m hoping that one of us pursued mad science and there’s a reality where a “me” has his own army of Atomic Supermen and has taken over the world. I imagine I’d be a real Dick if I had absolute power. I can’t picture myself going “full Hitler” but that’s the thing about me – the second France stepped out of line, I’d likely send the Atomic Supermen in to teach them a lesson. Next thing you know, death camps and I’m attacking Russia during the winter. It’s inevitable, really.
For the curious, the Council of Mitch’s meets once every three years. We all go to a hotel in Puerto Rico, where there’s a ball room that hosts a dimensional nexus. I missed the 2020 one because of COVID, since I live in the reality where that genie got out of the bottle and the other Mitch’s have been spared the experience. We Mitch’s normally get together and explain obvious things to each other, complain a lot, and then compare bits of NYC historical trivia that we’ve uncovered in our individual timelines. It’s all quite pedantic. We all claim to be “Mitch Prime” but acknowledge that we might be wrong about that. We’re all also a bit jealous of each other, but pretend that we’re happy about each other’s achievements and sarcastically passive aggressive about them. All of us agree that it’s been an odd and interesting 5,749 days.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
good test
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While scuttling home from my beloved Newtown Creek one fine evening, I noticed this industrious fellow doing industrial things in Long Island City. That piece of equipment is called a Bobcat, and I’ve always wanted one – in case of zombies. The Bobcat has a safety cage to protect the operator from construction mishaps, which would prove a fine barrier to the living dead. The scoop currently installed on the Bobcat pictured above can be changed out, and you commonly see a snow plow installed on these units during winter months. Imagine outfitting an industrial meat grinder on the front. That’ll come in handy for Zombie plague COVID OMEGA – the last Covid you’ll ever need.
I always thought Zombie movies were unrealistic. People don’t act like that in a crisis, thought I. One also opined that after the shock of the Zombie plague ameliorated a bit, America would sort that shit out quick using our usual cocktail of explosives and engineering. Imagine it – six or seven Bobcats outfitted with meat grinders moving down Fifth Avenue and behind them FDNY using fire hoses to pulse the gore into the sewers.
Always figured that’s how we’d handle a plague, no matter how grim, in the American way – with guns, industrial engineering, and municipal union labor operating on overtime.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Instead; we got Jewish Space Lasers, Murder Hornets, Nanobots, something about Nancy Pelosi eating babies to stay young, and drinking bleach. Also, Liquor can now be ordered off the internet and delivered to your house.
I had to show my face at a political event last night, and what I noticed is that everybody who works for the Government was tightly masked up, and not once did they pull it down – even during “picture time.” “They know something they’re not telling us and crossing their fingers right now” went through my mind. Despite the fact that I was booster vaxxed, and that the organizers and establishment were literally and conspicuously checking vax status at the door, I did not feel at all comfortable in the room. Split early, after getting in a brief ass kissing session with a term limited “Lord of this World.” If you say a term limited and now retired politician’s name, they return like Voldemort, so I won’t.
I’ve also found out, as I’ve been making my holiday calls to glad hand and commiserate with allies and opponents, that the recent spike in Covid numbers isn’t a myth. Neither are the tales of breakthrough infections.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On my way to the political “room” where I executed my ass kissing, I walked past my local bar and was informed by a friend that “tonight, it’s the Christmas party, and the owner of the bar was asking where you are.” Now, this particular fellow is the one who had potentially infected me with Covid back in September, which was thankfully a false alarm for all involved but especially him since he’s an anti-vaxx. His version of the conspiracy theory revolves around Bitcoin, Bill Gates, and Biden. He’ll end all of his explanations about the incredibly complex and perfectly actuated plot to attenuate your freedoms by exclaiming “NINE-ELEVEN” at the end of his messaging. Another friend of mine recently opined that Jan. 6th was a Civil Rights March.
I spent the rest of Thursday night wandering around Long Island City’s industrial sections, all by myself.
Bobcats with meat grinders. Trucks with meat grinders. Trucks made of guns, that shoot smaller guns instead of bullets. Guns that shoot pickup trucks out of their barrels. That’s the American way.
Maybe if we started describing the vaccines as ammo? Say that there’s a shortage of vaccine ammo because Nancy Pelosi wants China to dress your kids up for church in girl’s clothing and make them listen to woke comedy so the frogs turn gay? The only way to defeat Pelosi’s agenda is to annoy her by getting ammo’d? Own the libs by getting ammo’d and showing them what snowflakes they are?
I just don’t understand anything anymore.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
uncounted billions
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Back in the saddle again, as it were.
It seems, after returning from my various journeys, that a humble narrator has had a bit of a fire lit in the seat of his pants. Within three days of returning to NYC, circumstance demanded that I needed to travel all over the place, and that’s when the malevolent sentience of NYC penalized me for leaving her behind for the interval.
A City based memorial get together in honor of a recently departed friend saw me standing on the subway platforms at Queens Plaza afterwards, which is when the 7 train shot above was captured. I got to talk to the cops about this one, while some asshole was smoking a joint about twenty feet away from us. I don’t care that he was smoking weed, mind you, it’s that he was smoking anything at all on the freaking platform at Queens Plaza and the cops decided to hassle me for taking a photo – which is 100% legal – instead of the other guy who was doing something 100% illegal.
“Why are you taking pictures of the subway”? I dunno officer, maybe it’s cause I’m the Chair of the Community Board’s Transportation Committee, or that I’m part of a transit advocacy group called Access Queens which focuses on problems that happen on this line? Maybe it’s because I can do whatever the hell I want to, and I wouldn’t have to explain myself to you even if I am in the middle of committing a crime let alone not committing one? If it was the former situation, you’d have already added a pair of steel bracelets to my accoutrements prior to getting me to say something stupid enough for you to take me back to the Station House. Grrrr.
“Dystopian shithole,” that’s what I kept on repeating to myself after the N line arrived across the platform and carried me into Astoria. Covid seems to have applied the icing to De Blasio’s seven year long layer cake of municipal despair, indifference, and “less than.” Pfah.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another occasion found me walking through the blight and wasteland blocks surrounding Manhattan’s horrific Hudson Yards development. The section of midtown nearby Hudson Yards, and the similarly ill conceived Javitz Convention Center, has long been a dangerous and lonely section of the city inhabited by scalliwags, truants, muggers, drug enthusiasts, and whatever the hell “woke” people call street prostitutes these days. Hudson Yards has somehow made this worse by luring future victims to the area. Luckily for them, the wealthy can afford private security. Cops ain’t doing shit for shinola until De Blasio is out of office, so if you’re not rich enough to afford a body man, keep your guard up lords and ladies. Turbulence is ahead.
Luckily, the traffic gendarmes were there to ensure the smooth flow of New Jersey bound automobile traffic through the zone. Wonder how long it’s going to be before somebody comes up with the bright idea to knock down that church (Sts. Cyril & Methodius & St. Raphael’s Catholic Church Croatian Parish) and replace it with a 30 story Walgreens because a) progress, b) affordable housing, c) ride a bike asshole, d) you’re a racist if you disagree with anything that might have just popped into my head right now.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Finally, seeking some sort of quiet time and communion with my arrival “back home,” I rode the ferry out to Staten Island hoping for some tugboat time. I got some of that, but was again thwarted by NYC teaching me a lesson for leaving her behind for a few weeks.
It seems that on my way back to the City, I had to stop off to get sniffed by the security theater labradors stationed therein while rushing through the terminal to catch the Staten Island Ferry. A momentary delay, the sniffing nevertheless caused me to miss the boat, since the ferry guy had already partially closed the sliding glass door he spends his life sliding open and closed, and he would have had to reopen it, and since he’s a city employee who’s already dead inside… there went a half hour of my life, which I spent being cased by a rip off crew that hangs around the SI Ferry terminals.
I’ve seen and noticed this particular pack of “clown shoes” before, a group of scaly looking early to mid 20’s guys who work as a unit. One guy spots the “vic,” and then texts his buddies. They move in through the crowd from different angles, and before you know it you’re standing in the middle of a huddle of dim witted muggers who work you over – picking your pockets and grabbing whatever they can before scattering. I noticed them noticing me (and especially the camera) immediately, and began a fun game of moving about the terminal to give them some exercise while playing dumb about the situation. They would text each other when I stopped moving, and then begin collecting nearby me again. Then I’d move again, and then there they were. So bad at crime, the millennials are. So incredibly bad.
To the cops at Queens Plaza – there’s a heroin operation which uses the Staten Island Ferry to move product between New Jersey and Manhattan. Has been going on for years. Look for what you boys in blue refer to as “skels” when on the big orange boat. Noticing things like this is quite literally your job. Stop hassling photographers.
Bah. Back next week.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
portentous meanings
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One found himself at the Maspeth Avenue Plank Road site recently, attending and photographing a Newtown Creek Alliance cleanup event that occurred on a lovely Saturday afternoon. One of the property owners nearby this site has recently been compelled to do some remodeling of their shoreline. I’ve known about this for a bit, but given that I’m usually here either at sunset or after dark, haven’t explored the new situation.
It’s not a good idea to be poking around in the bushes after dark in Industrial Maspeth, and especially so if you’re on foot and alone. Given that NCA had a fairly large group here, scooping garbage and debris off of the shoreline, I figured “why not?”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The shoreline in this spot has been fairly impassable during my years at Newtown Creek, and largely ignored by the industrial operation which worked busily on the other side of a large concrete and steel fence. An artist I know had briefly set up a small structure back here which he used as a hangout and ad hoc painting studio. That structure had been taken over by some mendicant in the last year or two. Artist, structure, and mendicant are all gone now and there’s all sorts of geographically appropriate plantings here now.
This is where I got into the fight with a raccoon back in 2020, during which I had to poke at the thing with my tripod.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the mouth of English Kills, the Newtown Creek tributary that flows all the way back to Johnson Avenue in Bushwick. It’s also where water quality along the Creek sharply drops off. If you think Newtown Creek is bad, as everybody including the Federal Government does, you should see English Kills. Yuck.
Back tomorrow with more from my beloved Creek.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 