Friday, November 21, 2008


I am beginning to think that what I thought was ’strength’ may be only the numbness of ‘jaded’. Everyday I watch out my back window as the cops at the 5th district gather around the cruisers in the parking lot; standing, talking, sometimes laughing…and I walk out my front door to see the doorway where Helen Hill, my neighbor, was shot to death in a horrible meaningless killing, as yet unsolved. I listen as politicians squander our livelyhood and our city, avoiding responsibility and duty, squirming for higher ground, using our battered city as a fulcrum to power and position. And so many lives are destroyed in the waiting…. Waiting for what? Until another local kid is shot in retaliation for some crazy feud that has its cause too far back to remember? Over a turf war on broken streets & sidewalks? Until another bright light, come here to ‘help rebuild the City’ is gunned down for a a handfull of crumpled bills, barely worth leaving on the bar? It’s a grudge match now. I’ll stay to see the Mayor, the Police Superintendent, the crooked Trash Bosses and Home Destroyers brought down. All the way down, to where we live everyday, fighting for our lives. Or until this city takes my life as well. They are the ones who have allowed this to be; through apathy, greed and self congratulation: A City at War with itself, a frightening body count to their corruption, from the drug dealing cops and copper thieves, to the Mayor of False Awards and the Police Superintendent of No Filed Reports. I DO NOT SURRENDER. Lord David Pirate & Artist Skull Club New Orleans

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Follow in Your Hymnals...

Sometimes I picture Mayor C. Ray Nagin as a Preacher, and his choir is a nest of baby birds, singing gratefully along with everyhting he says, as he vomits regurgitated worms into their mouths. If only it were that innocent… As I understand the current Hymn being sung, Veronica White has been doing a shit job, and refused to produce documentation on hugely over budgeted contracts, so Stacey Head demanded it. Ms White stormed out of a City Council meeting, and Mayor Nagin cried racism. Which, of course, never occured, but the ‘tone’ created by asking someone to account for fucking up their job (oh, yeah, and destroying homes in the process) is racist in the Nagin Administration, if the asker is white and the accounter is black. So now there’s a protest group calling for Ms. Head’s resignation because of her “racist” behavior. Meanwhile, rumors flourish that Nagin will be chosen as the head of HUD by President Elect Obama, for his insight into housing problems, local singer returned to town, Brian Turd, is shot dead while walking his dog at 8pm on a neighborhood street, and houses continue to be ripped down for no apparent reason. Then there’s the WWL TV report about STD trash trucks dumping toxic waste in City Park, also on Veronica White’s watch. Let’s just simplify, shall we? If you’re one of Nagin’s cronies, you can run a department in to the fucking ground, cheat, lie, steal and destroy parts of the city, and if anyone complains, they’re a racist. For this, Mister Nagin expects a presidential Cabinet post and you’ll get murdered walking your dog by your house, even before the kiddies go to bed. I, for one, am so tired of this song I could spit. Sign the petition below to recall Veronica White, and send letters to expressing your deep disatisfaction with C. Ray Nagin, so that armed guards appear if he ever gets near a White House appointment. Enough of this shit already. Lord David Skull Club New Orleans

Monday, November 10, 2008


It started in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1947. A theater event where many of the ‘outsider’ performers were turned away. They used local venues, houses, bars and whatever they could get into, to put on their own shows on the Fringe of town, and the Fringe Festival was born. Kristen Evans & Dennis Monn have brought it to New Orleans this year. Read the story about it in the special insert in this week’s Gambit, or go the website for more information, clicking VENUES, for directions and locations, or SHOWS to get listings of events and their locations. Featured Event: théâtre du jour at The Skull Club Thursday, November 13 through Sunday, November 16 Performed earlier this year in Paris and Washington, DC, théâtre du jour comprises two comic shorts written and directed by Michael Merino. The first work, “Seat Yourself,” explores the frustrations of fine dining and “the euphemism.” The second work, “Pompa y Circunstancia,” concerns a bizarre commencement ceremony, where two brothers mis-communicate about what to wear, life and lunch. The cast includes Perry Leopard, Randy Maggiore and Claudia Baumgarten. The shows will be performed at The Skull Club, located at 1003 Spain Street. Dates and times are: Thursday, November 13 at 8:30 p.m. Saturday, November 15 at 7:00 p.m. Sunday, November 16 at 5:30 p.m. Tickets are $7 and can be purchased at the door or in advance through Here is the Street Talk edition featuring chat with Kristen Evans, Dennis Monn & Lord David, discussing the history of Fringe Festival, the local event & venues, and the Skull Club, at, or listen by tuning in to Street Talk on 90.7 FM. You can listen to Street Talk — WWOZ’s 5-minute cultural news report — Monday at 12 Noon, Tuesday at 2:00pm, Wednesday at 8:00pm, Thursday at 10:00am, Friday at 8:00am, Saturday at 8:00am, and Sunday at 10:00pm. Get out and see some Fringe Festival Theater! Lord David Pirate & Artist Skull Club New Orleans

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Nostrodamus Sez:

It’s 8:30 pm on Election Day. I’m calling it for Barack Obama, by a landslide. THIS. CHANGES. EVERYTHING. Lord David Skull Club


So it seems like a dream, now, this long road to the polls. I am confident that clearer heads will prevail, and Barack Obama will be the next President of the United States of America. Besides a feeling of well being that is washing over me, the tension is leaving my body and I feel like I am surfacing from some strange depth within myself. In this New Clarity, it dawns more clearly than ever, that we are witnessing a change, not only in our nation, but the world, and beyond that, History, itself, as the first African American President is elected in the USA. Not only does this mark a huge shift, within my lifetime, as I was born about the time of the Civil Rights Amendment and can see how much has been achieved, but because The World At Large bears witness to this act, in which older white men, with huge family fortunes, steeped in separtism and control through power, no longer hold the title of Commander and Chief of the most powerful country on earth. This day marks the gateway of New Beginning, one of compassion and understanding, truth and human value, co-operation rather than division, and acceptance rather than denial. The work here is only beginning. We are far down the road to our own end, all of us, as one, riding our planet into extinction and war. The trip back will be long and difficult. Take this new hope to heart, and build on it there, whatever your political choices. To hold back now is to deny yourself the promise and passion of being one of billions of humans, working together to form a better world in the 21st century. Let it begin now. World 2.0 Lord David Pirate & Artist Skull Club New Orleans

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Day Of The Dead

A year ago today, on la Dios de la Muerto, The Dead came to my window. They appeared to be several hundred strong, and they gathered in the street below my loft windows, singing songs, beating drums, chanting my name and demanding solace in the form of drink. Not being unaquainted with this form of solace, and impressed by so many of The Dead knowing my name and whereabouts, I capitulated with cocktails and beer, speaking to them out my window like some Dark Pope, and finally waved them on to Flanagan's Bar, where dead people are always welcome, if only due to the Irish name. We all know that the Irish love both the drink & the dead, so it seemed like the right thing to do. I hope they come back again tonight. I rather like The Dead, not only because of their fashionable black outfits and over sized skull heads (anyone knowing me is familiar with my constant black attire and big head), but because they make us Who We Are. Everything we have going for us as Humans came from Dead People, unless it comes from people who are about to be dead. Someday, anyway. But the stuff we take for granted, the New World, fire, television, rum and of course cooking school, all came to us by way of people now long dead. So there's that. And the afore mentioned Irish and their Dark Poets, who romanced Death, even before they did it. Those wacky poets. What might not be as obvious is what death does for us now, on a daily basis, for free. All by just being there, if we'd only pay attention. Death is a punctuation point at which our lives, as we know them, anyway, end. There's much discussion about what's next, but that has nothing to do with Death. It may have a great deal to do with how we approach the subject, but that's for another day. Today is la Dios de la Muerto, the Day of the Dead, and I want to offer up my respect to those who have gone before, and the message they seem to be leaving, at least, when they show up at one's window, chanting your name and demanding cocktails. We Are All Going To Die. See how simple that is? It doesn't take much study to understand. The problem is that folks just don't like to think about it. They spin off in to theological discussions about Next Worlds, and stories about lost family or loved ones, or make video tapes depicting horrifying car crashes, or write bound-for-DVD scripts about sexy teens on forbidden islands getting picked off one by one... Anyway, I think you see my point. It takes quite a bit of moxie to stand in front of your mirror and say to yourself, "I'm going to die." In fact, it may happen anytime in this crazy world. Anytime at all. We take measures to ensure our health and safety, as well as the health and safety of those around us, but that's not enough. The best thing to do is much simpler; Live. I figured out the message that The Dead bring to my window. Not that one must give demanding neighbors free drinks, although that's a very interesting subject for another column, but that we must Live Now. May your morning bowl of cereal be perfect, crispy and cool, if that's what you desire. May your work, at whatever task you have in front of you, be the best that you can do. May you tell that lovely man or woman you've just met (you know who you are) that you think they are lovely and would like to know them better. Sing out loud when joy finds it's way to your lips, laugh louder when confronted by ridiculous circumstance. Cry openly at the loss of love and lovers, in your favorite movie or in your life. Smile at complete strangers and feel the glow of that smile returned. Do something amazing with your life, if only for an instant, and take the time to be amazed by the actions of others. Above all things, find your place on this earth of ours, to experience the breath and blood of living, to celebrate YOUR life, as it's the one thing you truly own. Find others to join in this celebration, to sing with you, and when necessary, to rise up and protect your right to that life. I am blessed in that I have found my place, and therein, friends abound. To night, I shall celebrate my life, and the living of it, here in my beloved New Orleans, when my friends, The Dead, pass by my window. Thanks to The Dead, for showing me the meaning and truth of Life. I may never have done it without you. Lord David Pirate & Artist Skull Club New Orleans