Posts Tagged ‘weirdness’
maternal ancestry
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Old world mysteries, primeval prejudices, and certain racial memories which might lead one back to those days before Rome put its torch to the world are extant in Western Queens. Here amongst the seething hills of noble Astoria, one may ask and sometimes receive an answer to questions about certain bizarre conceptions and hear rumors of supernatural forces run amok.
The Cretan might tell you about the Kallikantzaros which followed them here, or the Egyptian might share with you tales about those things which lurk just beyond the village.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Stout Croat and Romani alike shudder at the mention of Strigoi having entered the area, and the Mexican and Ecuadorean communities close ranks when questioned about the power of the Brujas who have followed their people here. The imitative hipster finds sanguine amusement at the notion of hauntings that have plagued certain buildings, apartment houses, and riverside spots for generations- chalking up these stories to quaint superstition and ironic interpretation.
Even the Museum of the Moving Image is meant to host a spectral resident, after all.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Buddhist invocations, Hindu mysticism, Brazilian peasant magicks- the hidden arts of Imam and Priest- these things are never discussed by area wags.
Many fear that such talk might reduce property value and cause new residents to choose other and less ancient locales in which to rent or buy real estate. It is when night comes to the ancient Dutch village that the odd things become obvious, begin to happen, and the later it gets the wilder things might become.
Also:
Your humble narrator will be narrating humbly on Friday, February 24th at 7:30 P.M. for the “Ridgewood Democratic Club, 60-70 Putnam Avenue, Ridgewood, NY 11385” as the “Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show” is presented to their esteemed group. The club hosts a public meeting, with guests and neighbors welcome, and say that refreshments will be served.
The “Magic Lantern Show” is actually a slideshow, packed with informative text and graphics, wherein we approach and explore the entire Newtown Creek. Every tributary, bridge, and significant spot are examined and illustrated with photography. This virtual tour will be augmented by personal observation and recollection by yours truly, with a question and answer period following.
For those of you who might have seen it last year, the presentation has been streamlined, augmented with new views, and updated with some of the emerging stories about Newtown Creek which have been exclusively reported on at this- your Newtown Pentacle.
For more information, please contact me here.
candlemas
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Today is Candlemas, a station of fire on the wheel of the year which marks the equidistant point between winter and spring solstices. Our pagan antecedents would have gathered today, and exchanged candles of beeswax to mark the occasion. The entire month of February is named for a Roman feast held on or near the 15th, called Februa, a purification ritual.
The pre Christian Irish called this time of the year “faoilleach”, the wolf month.
In modern times, it’s mainly known as “groundhog day“.
from wikipedia
The Presentation of Jesus at the Temple, which falls on 2 February, celebrates an early episode in the life of Jesus. In the Eastern Orthodox Church and some Eastern Catholic Churches, it is one of the twelve Great Feasts, and is sometimes called Hypapante (lit., ‘Meeting’ in Greek). Other traditional names include Candlemas, the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin, and the Meeting of the Lord.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At least three thousand years of tradition say that today is a good day to cleanse the body and home, and tradition states that your Christmas decorations must be torn away by tonight or death will come to your house. Additionally, one is expected to eat pancakes.
Farmers begin turning the soil today, and their wives are expected to put baked goods on the windowsill as an offering to the fertility goddess Brigid (later latinized as St. Brigid).
Our Lady of the Pentacle and your humble narrator look forward to evening pancakes. It has been too long.
from wikipedia
Imbolc (also Imbolg), or St Brigid’s Day (Scots Gaelic Là Fhèill Brìghde, Irish Lá Fhéile Bríde, the feast day of St. Brigid), is a Celtic festival marking the beginning of spring. Most commonly it is celebrated on 1 or 2 February (or 12 February, according to the Old Calendar) in the northern hemisphere and 1 August in the southern hemisphere. These dates fall approximately halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.
The festival was observed in Gaelic Ireland during the Middle Ages. Reference to Imbolc is made in Irish mythology, in the Tochmarc Emire of the Ulster Cycle. Imbolc was one of the four cross-quarter days referred to in Irish mythology, the others being Beltane, Lughnasadh and Samhain. It has been suggested that it was originally a pagan festival associated with the goddess Brigid, who should not be confused with St Brigit of Kildare.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In the fictional clade of H.P. Lovecraft’s mythos, Candlemas is a day oft mentioned, and is most prominently the birthday of both Wilbur Whately and his twin brother. The brother had no name, but was said to resemble their father more strongly than Wilbur.
from hplovecraft.com
It was in the township of Dunwich, in a large and partly inhabited farmhouse set against a hillside four miles from the village and a mile and a half from any other dwelling, that Wilbur Whateley was born at 5 A.M. on Sunday, the second of February, 1913. This date was recalled because it was Candlemas, which people in Dunwich curiously observe under another name; and because the noises in the hills had sounded, and all the dogs of the countryside had barked persistently, throughout the night before.
Old School 2
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There are places where you just don’t want to park in Brooklyn.
This semi was spotted, appearing to have been picked over by a pack of scavenging dogs, in Greenpoint not too long ago. Please feel free to click through to the larger incarnations of this photo at Flickr, and examine the skeletonized husk of this truck. What I find puzzling, actually, is the fact that this rig still has tires and rims. Perhaps, at the end, it will be converted to some sort of horse drawn wagon?
For the first post in what will surely become a regular series click here for “Old School”.
disjointed jargon
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Whilst marching past the sky flung and quite cyclopean walls of First Calvary Cemetery, which form the border between life and death along Review Avenue here in Queens, your humble narrator found himself stricken with certain longings for times past. Not the usual longings, borne of long nocturnal studies into the occluded and dim history of the fabled Newtown Creek and environs, but instead a desire to return to that moment in time when it was all new to me- just a few years ago. Far have my solitary marches across the concrete desolations of the Newtown Pentacle taken me from that original path.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
When that hellish green flame of revelation was first lit, before I found out about Conrad Wessel and Cord Meyer and had no idea who Michael Degnon or Dagger John might be, the wonderland of Newtown Creek was merely another industrial area which had fallen on hard times and the sort of place which I always found myself wandering through. As a kid, it was south Brooklyn and the maritime era leave behinds which adorn Jamaica Bay. These days I’m conducting tours of the area for academic and political crowds, and speaking extemporaneously on the historic ramifications of it. Fear has risen in me that I’m losing my focus.
I almost walked past this glob of risible decay without photographing it, for instance.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Recent inundation, which has been typical for the storm addled year of 2011, has saturated the low lying alluvial plain around the Creek and betrayed its past as wetlands. Accordingly, anything lying on an open patch of dirt immediately becomes soaked. I couldn’t tell you what this glutinous mass with a vaguely fibrous texture once was, but I am oh so glad I was still capable to notice it. The thing about the Newtown Pentacle, a term coined to describe the pentangular geographic distribution of the early European colonies in western Queens and Northern Brooklyn, is that the devil is always in the details.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Microscopy upon any subject often obscures the larger themes surrounding it, in essence when you follow Alice down the rabbit hole, you forget that the shire still lies without. The pile of discarded newspapers in the shot above, which are curiously and analogously arranged in the shape of a fallen man, obscured a bag of pots and pans. Repulsively filthy, one of the cooking pans was filled with human excrement.
Curiously, the pans were in the approximate location that a pelvis might be found on a human.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It has been painful to stand in public, as to be seen by so many diminishes me. Duty, however, demands that I tell the story of this place, no matter the personal cost.
This Sunday, the public tours of Newtown Creek will be departing from Pier 17 at South Street Seaport. The afternoon session is already sold out, but a few tickets are still available for the morning one. Heavily discounted (and I would point out that I have zero financial interest in the tours) at $10, due to a grant from NYCEF fund of the Hudson River Foundation, these will most likely be the last chance for the general public to see the Newtown Creek by boat until the spring.
And your humble narrator is anxious to get back out on the streets and find more mystery globs of risible decay, altars of unknown and foreign gods, and the graves of both Battle Ax Gleason and “he who must not be named”…
haven of light
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Do not bring up the subject of sleep to your humble narrator, for even the thought of entering into that trance state- with it’s concurrently wild hallucinations- is enough to cause both physical and mental strain upon my delicate equilibrium. Just thinking about lying helpless in the dark waiting to slip into this inevitable oblivion is enough to make me breath rapidly and experience irregular cardiac rhythms while sweating profusely. The psychological effects of such inferences manifest as a confused, trembling, and amorphous fear which betrays a dread terror and malign panic.
I’m all ‘effed up.
from wikipedia
The fear of the dark is a common fear among children and to a varying degree is observed for adults. Fear of the dark is usually not fear of the darkness itself, but fear of possible or imagined dangers concealed by the darkness. Some degree of fear of the dark is natural, especially as a phase of child development. Most observers report that fear of the dark seldom appears before the age of 2 years. When fear of the dark reaches a degree that is severe enough to be considered pathological, it is sometimes called nyctophobia (from Greek νυξ, “night” and φοβια, phobia), scotophobia, from σκότος – “darkness”, or lygophobia, from λυγή – “twilight” and achluophobia.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Severe, my psychic pathologies demand isolation from others, easy to achieve by being awake while everyone else is asleep. Terrifying possibilities of what might lurk out there in the darkness torment my imagination, and I can only feel safe when blanketed in electronic light. There are stories of untoward and unexpected occurrences observed during the Great Astoria Blackout of 2006 whose meanings are only now beginning to coalesce into some sort of sensible shape, things that can exist only in the safe fuligin which no sensibly illumined skeptical New Yorker might expect. Thresholds throughout the ancient village knew lurkers, and odd shinings were described emanating from certain ruined or lightning cursed churches which dot the rolling hillocks of Astoria.
From beneath the streets an azure glow and acrid scent escaped, and rough havoc was unleashed, I’m sure.
from wikipedia
Panphobia, from the Greek ‘pan’ and ‘phobos,’ also called Omniphobia, Pantophobia, or Panophobia, is a medical condition known as a “non-specific fear” or “the fear of everything” and is described as “a vague and persistent dread of some unknown evil”, or only seeing the extremes to everything.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
To help pass the lonely hours of nocturnal hand wringing, tooth gnashing, and guilty self recrimination I have taken to long exposure photography which allows me to feel as if something had been accomplished before weakness and fatigue forced me into surrendering to that familiar cycle of deteriorating into unconsciousness, hallucination, and dazed awakening. Stumbling out into the streets the next and every day- into and beneath the direct gaze of the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself- emanations sting at my skin and if exposed to them for not so long a time, radiation burns will begin to manifest.
from wikipedia
Erythropoietic protoporphyria (EPP) is a relatively mild form of porphyria, although very painful, which arises from a deficiency in the enzyme ferrochelatase, leading to abnormally high levels of protoporphyrin in the tissue. The severity varies significantly from individual to individual…
EPP can be triggered through exposure to sun even though the patient is behind glass. Even the UV emissions from arc welding with the use of full protective mask have been known to trigger EPP.
Prolonged exposure to the sun can lead to edema and blistering. At times the immediate damage can be so severe that the individual can lose the skin in sheets.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Doctor friends have advised me that my aversion to this hideous biological malady is unavoidable, and described timetables which offer precise time periods during which the kidneys and liver may cleanse the blood of toxins, and the function of cellular growth and repair is based around sleep as well I am told. As well, psychiatric and psychological sources describe the chronic loss or avoidance of sleep as some sort of disorder.
Well, what do lettered academics know anyway? Have they rode with the tomb legions over the frozen steppes of nephren ka, or flown with the night gaunts through low hanging branches over the Lethe, or walked a mile in my moccasins?
from wikipedia
Sleep deprivation is the condition of not having enough sleep; it can be either chronic or acute. A chronic sleep-restricted state can cause fatigue, daytime sleepiness, clumsiness and weight loss or weight gain. It adversely affects the brain and cognitive function. Few studies have compared the effects of acute total sleep deprivation and chronic partial sleep restriction. Complete absence of sleep over long periods is impossible for humans to achieve (unless they suffer from fatal familial insomnia); brief microsleeps cannot be avoided. Long-term total sleep deprivation has caused death in lab animals.
The Newtown Pentacle 