Monday, June 27, 2011


New Orleans, Mardi Gras 2007

The Privileged on St. Claiborne lost their dives to Hwy 10.  Past the Ebenezer Ministry Baptist Church, the Baby Dolls carried on with their tradition on the outdoor stage hollering their souls to the “Mother in Law” song.  There sat the mannequin of her dead legendary husband, on stage to the right, with his red shirt and plastic hands, wearing a wig like the rest of them.  Who’s catching who on the front end or back end of Mardi Gras?  Of continuing the custom carnival, looking at each other like a direction post.  Noted. 

There’s a Social Justice Renewal listed on the church for those looking for social renovation, whether their paths led down the parade route or not.  The progression continues, and for those who move like turtles or whoop across the renewal as fast as thrown beads from a Thoth Parade, in violent charm, they will all arrive.  We’re all on the front row of randomness.  And don’t interfere with the randomness of time.  Or double time.  From sequence to sequins there is a soulful intention in the loop.  From Bon Temps to white night conversations, there is a story being told in the music.  And no dialogue is needed in the continued history of the beat.  From Africa to New Orleans, Zulu perseveres.  They trim the streets.  The energy trucks move the wires.  The Thoth leave bead marks on your forehead…..Cocoa agreed they were winging it. 

The lieutenant of Muses came to say hello to her neighbor.  She was also a Roller Girl.  She makes 80 pairs of shoes for Muses and will have them done by 2008.

These are not the hot coals of Hollywood.  This is where you can let your hair down.  This is Headland.  

The power of thunder, the defiance of piss.

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