The Toynbee Tiles of NYC

First some history for those not familiar with what a Toynbee Tile is.
Though no one really knows who created, or exactly why this strange form of street art exists, many believe the mystery has been solved by Justin Duerr, and his amazing documentary Ressurect Dead.
The story goes that, for over 30 years, one Philadelphia man has used linoleum tiles, and an asphalt compound, to spread his near-schizophrenic message of life-after-death, through a hole in the floor of his car. By placing the tiles onto the street to be constantly run over, the tiles would be pushed into the road to create an almost permanent display of his ideas.
Staring in Philadelphia in the early 1980s, and spreading throughout the Northeast in the 90s (as far south as Washington D.C., and as north as Boston, MA), a few have also been spotted in the Midwest (such as Missouri), and even one in South America - with New York having the largest collection outside of Pennsylvania.
The messages, though brief, are thought to originally stem from the book, Experiences, by British philosopher Arnold J. Toynbee, and mixed with some sci-fi from the 1968 movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, which was written by Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke. Nevertheless, the information contained in the tiles has been known to change from time to time, and some even include stories of secret government attacks on the "artist".
It is now accepted that whoever placed the tiles thinks we can colonize the planet Jupiter with the souls of all human life that have died so far.
There is a wonderful interactive map of all the so-far-discovered pieces (link here), which I used to catalog those in New York City.
While there are many spread throughout Manhattan, like the one on the corner of Church and Warren Streets in Downtown...

...most can be found in the Midtown area.
By taking a walk south on Broadway, starting at 42nd Street, then a left on 35th, heading south again on 6th Avenue to 27th Street, and then north on 5th Avenue from 31st to 38th Street, one can find all those pictured below.

Try seeing how many you can spot along your way.
Since the tile work has garnered a bit of infamy, there are quite a few fakes, with varying degrees of competence in the original method.

Happy hunting, and I look forward to someone turning this into some kind of scavenger hunt.

Irving Avenue and Moffat Street, Queens

Many are going to ask, "What's so weird about this one corner?" and I'm here to answer.
The end of Irving Avenue, where it meets Moffat Street, in Ridgewood, Queens, is the most radioactive spot in the entire state of New York, and would be the northeast's if not for NJ's McGuire Air Force Base in Burlington County (called "the most contaminated base" in 2007 by the United States Environmental Protection Agency).

In 1918, chemical engineer Alcan Hirsch, and his brother, mining chief Marx Hirsch, opened a chemical plant where today sits most of the businesses on Irving Ave's north side. In 1920, they christen it Hirsch Laboratories, and later added the mining company Molybdenum Corporation (aka Molycorp). The Hirsch brothers sold the lab in 1923 to Harry Wolff and Max Alport, who renamed it Wolff-Alport Chemical Company, but continued their mining operations, and supplied W-A Chemical with the rare-earth metals needed to produce a huge list of products.
The plant processed Monazite sand, which, when treated with Sulfuric Acid, separates into the rare-earth Sodium Sulfate, but also the radioactive waste known as Thorium Pyrophosphate.
It wasn't till the United States’ nuclear weapons program in 1942, known as the Manhattan Project, that Thorium became useful. Until 1947, when the Atomic Energy Commission began to purchase the fertile heavy element from Wolff-Alport, and for the full 20-years prior, the Thorium waste was simply dumped into the area's sewers.
In 1974, the Department of Energy created the FUSRAP initiative, which stands for "Formerly Utilized Sites Remedial Action Program", in an attempt to clean up environmental contamination, but it wasn't until 1987 that they notified New York City officials about the dangerous pollutants that stemmed from the Wolff-Alport plant. From 1988 to 2006, tests claimed the levels of radiation in the area were below regulatory limits, but broader tests in 2010 proved this was untrue.

The land where the chemical depot once stood is now Los Primos Auto Repair and Sale (1127 Irving Ave), and - if you ask nicely - the owner may show you the arches where the kilns once scorched apart the Monazite sand.
While a single X-ray may subject someone to 10 millirem of radiation, a worker at Los Primos is exposed to about 300 millirem per year (100 per year is deemed the highest "safe" dose).
It is said the site is not a danger to those who visit once or twice, but it's so bad within the auto-body shop, the Environmental Protection Agency has asked that no employee rest on their back within the premises, even though a sandwich of 2 inches (5 cm) of steel, 2 inches of lead, and another 2 inches of steel has been laid down under almost the entire block, by the E.P.A., to prevent further spoliation from gamma radiation.

Waterside Plaza (aka Bristol Basin)

Nestled along the East River stands Waterside Plaza. Located on the east side of FDR Drive, between 25th to 30th Street. It holds some wonderful views of Brooklyn...

...Queens, and Roosevelt Island.

Designed in 1966 by the architecture firm Davis, Brody & Associates, the first building was opened in 1973. Originally a housing development, the Waterside Management Company threw $35 million towards a three-year improvement program in 2004, publicly opening the four towers of 1,470 units and 25 townhouses to all.

What makes this triangular-shaped landmass so interesting is that it's mostly made up of rubble from England. The structures were built atop a landfill created using debris from the city of Bristol after its bombing by the German Luftwaffe during World War II.

Brought over in the ballast of ships, the buildings were later constructed on a platform with 2,000 pilings dug 80 feet deep into the scree on the shore of Kips Bay.

The area was to be expanded in the 1980s, but scrapped due to resistance by the community, as well as environmental concerns.

The United Nations International School is located just to the south of the complex, with - fittingly enough - the British International School of New York holding lease in a number of the commercial spaces.

Irish Hunger Memorial + Teardrop Park

Battery Park City is a beautiful residential area of southern Manhattan, located right next to the Financial District, which was created from the three million cubic-yards of rock and soil excavated from the construction of the New York City Water Tunnel, and the World Trade Center, as well as tons of sand dredged from the city's harbor.

From the late 1800s to the 1940s, some of the district was known as "Little Syria" due to the large Middle Eastern population, but, in 1966, Governor Nelson Rockefeller proposed the creation of what would become Battery Park City. In 1968, the Battery Park City Authority (BPCA) was created by the New York State Legislature, and, in 1972, $200 million was set aside to fund construction.

Though the area's population has tripled since 1990, there aren't many interesting oddities around here.

One notable spot, however, would be the Irish Hunger Memorial, off North End Avenue and Vesey Street.

Designed by artist Brian Tolle, and landscape architect Gail Wittwer-Laird, with backing by the firm 1100 Architect, the memorial is dedicated to the million lives that were lost in the Great Irish Famine of 1741. Construction of the memorial began in early 2001, and finished - despite the 9/11 attacks, which damaged a bit of the area - in July of 2002.

The plot is made up of soil, and native plants from the western coast of Ireland, while the rocks were collected from all thirty-two original counties of Ireland.

Within the memorial stands a real Irish cottage from the 19th century. The little home once belonged to the Slack family from Carradoogan, in the county of Mayo. It had been deserted since the 1960s, so the family donated the building for the project, and it was reconstructed as it originally stood back in Ireland.

Afterward, and especially if you have children, go see one of Manhattan's most beautiful public parks: Teardrop Park.

Only two blocks north of the memorial (off Warren Street), this park is an amazing place for both children, and adults.

Built in two separate sections (the north in 2004, and the southern portion in 2008), the park was designed by the NY architecture firm Michael Van Valkenburgh Associates, in collaboration with "play experts" at the Natural Learning Initiative.

The slabs of sedimentary rock throughout the park, while climbable, are installations designed by artist Ann Hamilton. Collected from all over the state of New York, the pieces are stacked to mirror natural stratum, and even hold a hidden water spout so icicles will form in the winter.
The small doorway is in tribute to Frederick Law Olmsted, who created many of the tunnels in Central Park.

The park was designed to conform with Battery Park City's Green Guidelines, such as reusing water collected from the surrounding buildings for irrigation, while the soil mixture is designed to help plants grow without using fertilizers, or pesticides.
Now go play, friends.

Quarters A (aka the Commandant's House)

If you find yourself maddened by the city, and are in the mood for a quieter setting, but don't want to spend much more than subway fare, I suggest taking a stroll through the Vinegar Hill district of Brooklyn - immediately east of DUMBO.
Unbelievably quiet for being so close to the Manhattan Bridge, with hardly a soul around, the streets here have quite a small-town feel.

The area holds one of Brooklyn's shortest streets, Little Street...

...which ends at what was once Quarters A of the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The three-floor, Federal-styled mansion is mostly known as the Commandant's House, and was built a little after the founding of Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1801

Overlooking the Navy compound to its east, it has always been the home of the first officer in charge. Residents of note include: Commodore Matthew C. Perry, who signed the 1841 treaty to trade with Japan, and Silas Stringham, who fought pirating along the African seas in 1845. The property was sold by the Navy in 1964, and has been a private residence since. In 1974, the building gained National Historic Landmark status.
Walking this neighborhood has some odd sights for being within the city limits...

...but, along the way, there are a few reminders of where you're at.

Never change, NYC.