Wednesday, March 12, 2014

A Walk By The River; Lord of the Flies & the Slave Children of Mordor

Today begins the Sacred Music Festival at the New Orleans Healing Center, in which billionaire Pres Kabacoff sponsors his crazy wife's party, which they convince the local hippies to work as 'volunteers', because god knows Pres & Sallie are short of cash.

 In keeping with this occasion, I came across a picture of their fake Voodoo ceremony, which I have diligently posted to Facebook.
All the same, here it is again, with the same caption.

"Privileged White People, bastardizing Haitian culture, performing a 'ceremony' at the Hippy Shopping Mall Healing Center. The best part of this picture is Pres Kabacoff, in his ridiculous pink suit, staring at that woman's ass, while his crazy wife pretends to do a Voodoo ceremony.

 I admit, this put a wrinkle in my day, much like coming across any other pile of stank droppings, so I thought I'd take a walk at the new Crescent Park, down by the river.
It's a blustery day, so as expected, I had it much to myself.

 I had read warnings from other pundits, suggesting that the park would soon be over run with 'thugs' and today, I saw them, myself, en masse, for the first time.

I'm guessing they're the Cottage Cheese Ass Gang, Lord of the Flies chapter. They were all skinny, bearded white boys, carrying those large tree limbs, and, as I arrived, beating loudly on all of the iron panels around the Piety Street deck, like some loud & insane Drum Circle From Hell.
 I watched for a while, wondering if they knew there were cameras in there, watching them, too. Then they noticed the cameras, ("Hey look! Dude! Cameras!") and in a moment of bravery, hoofed it back across the Bridge of Rust, complete with their Gandalf Staff Wear, to march off in the general direction of Mordor, or as it's called locally, the New Orleans Healing Center and Co-op.

 I walked on down to the end of the path, to where it ends in a lovely chain link security fence. There was a cargo vessel making a U-turn, and the music came floating across the river as it gracefully spun about. It was Scott Joplin's 'The Entertainer' played on the Caliope.
 Suddenly, I heard a foot step behind me, and spun around. There stood an obvious jogger, totally fit, wearing the sort of stretchy jogging clothes only totally fit people can wear. He was smiling ear to ear.

"Impressive, isn't it?" he said, nodding at the ship.
"The music makes it completely surreal", I replied.
"I know," he said, "It's perfect." He went on his way & I on mine, but I was reassured by this exchange. The simple acceptance of surreal imagery & the child like wonder of watching one of the Big Ships, so easily shared by complete strangers, passing on the river bank, is probably as old as the city itself. The name of the ship certainly fell in to line with this imagery. The MSC Stella.

Needless to say, I felt better about things.

Once back on the home turf of the Skull Club, I decided that I would pop next door to the Mordor Co-op Voodoo Shopping Mall, and see if they ever restocked the one, single item I ever went there for, anymore, and then, only under the most dire of circumstances (which often occur at 4:20); The Pursuit of Good Chocolate.

 They used to carry 3.5 ounce bars of delicious Giordella baking chocolate (70% Cacao) for about $3.29. Now they direct me to the fancy schmancy ones, made with real Rain Forest Fairies & The Angst Ridden Tears of Guilt, but they're all much more expensive, and loaded with additives. As I pointed out to the intrepid clerk hawking this crap, the mere addition of the word 'Artisanal' adds at least a dollar to the price.

  Anyway, he finally told me, in a secretive whisper (like these other people ever listen to anybody) that they had discontinued it because they thought Giordella might not be following 'Fair Trade' guidelines. I asked what this meant, suggesting that they'd always treated me fairly, and at a good price, mind you.

"It means that they aren't being fair to the farmers" he told me. I have serious doubts about that, believing that the Co-op only stocks things with stupid, expensive names on it, so they can charge stupid expensive prices for it. It happens, ya know.

 So I took a pass, and left without my fair trade chocolate, with bits of real rain forest artisanal fairies in it. On the way out, I saw the New Orleans Co-Op Signature Water Bottles, carried by simply everyone who is anyone and cares deeply about farmers & workers rights.

Of course, I happened to turn it over, and take a look at the bottom. Imagine my surprise.

 My surprise was that it wasn't actually filled with the tears of child slaves, imprisoned in the factories of China, but then, those tears might be considered 'Artisanal' in some countries, too precious to be tossed away.

Especially here in Mordor.


Darnola said...

A fantastic post. I'll send thanks to Tracy T for sending me to you.

pmac said...

Thanks for making my morning, here in Mordor.

Jules Bentley said...

I described this post elsewhere as you having "bowled a perfect game." Through your own direct experiences, you take us on a roller-coaster ride of disgust, despair, optimism, and good humor. Thank you so much for this.

Pres and the scumbags at his pet co-op might have all the money in the world... but when there are so many talented and funny and truly ALIVE people arrayed against them, I can't help but feel in my heart that the sickness they represent will not succeed.