http://icrapoport.com/en_US/sdk.js Krewe du Vieux rolled tonight. I made it there a bit late, and the first thing I saw was a host of papier-mache sperm cells swimming through the French Quarter, surrounded by huge crowds of people. As I got closer I saw they were following a huge float of a female behind with the inscription “Shave the Wetlands.” Saving the Louisiana coastal wetlands is a topic of discussion here, and more or less that was the style of the whole parade: sex-variations on political topics. The bailout was the biggest recurring theme, and the whole parade was called Krewe du Vieux’s “Stimulus Package.” Marchers handed out wooden nickels, “Cock Options,” condoms, and small fruits, in addition to the usual beads. People dressed up as “Organ Stanley” and “Bare Stearns,” “Titibank,” “Spank of America,” and the like. The human mind is infinitely fertile for this kind of growth.
http://snyderartdesign.com/author/admin/ The political commentary mixed in was interesting. Krewe members gave out money with Middle Eastern sheikhs in place of presidents. One yonic float called the “Crude Cave” was guarded by a King Kong who was tearing a banker apart limb from limb. There was a big foreclosure sign over the cave entrance. Several floats featured Fannie Mae in various positions with Uncle Sam and the guy from Monopoly. Behind the Monopoly guy were marchers wearing red Monopoly hotels with foreclosure signs on them.
It was very unusual, to say the least, to see so much unabashed sexuality. The marchers were not in the least uniform in appearance or age. Yet it seemed they all enjoyed the ribaldry. One reveler dressed as the San Diego Chicken went around spanking people. And lots of female dancers with dildos poked at the men watching the spectacle. And yet I did not find it at all unhealthy – it felt rather like the stuff you would find in Shakespeare or Rabelais or Balzac. My feeling was apparently shared by others, because tons of New Orleans families were there – old folk and little kids. Admittedly, the kids were mesmerized. (Maybe hundreds of women marching with dildos is a bit much for them.)
I passed by Bourbon Street on the way back, but the vibe was very different there. The street is lined by businesses, all trying to get you to spend your money there. Debauchery was not part of a larger cultural expression but tied to a kind of individual despair in loneliness and mutual exploitation. There was far less play.
A parade is something different, I guess. Who wouldn’t want to walk past huge laughing crowds, handing them things, entertaining them as you wished, followed before and behind by thousands of other people and wonderful marching bands? The brass bands, by the way, sounded amazing. The music was fantastic, and at times they simply blew the parade open with huge walls of sound. I couldn’t believe how much sound ten men with brass instruments could produce in open-air conditions, with no amplification. You could feel them moving the entire crowd. The music and spectacle absolutely overwhelmed. And man, could some of these bands swing.
The floats were drawn by mules, which added another whole element to the parade. I wondered what the mules thought of it all. They must think that being a spectator of the human experience is absolutely overwhelming. I wanted to tell them that it’s even more so from the inside!
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