"You don't give crap to God."

The Archaeological Institute of America, in conjunction with Loyola, puts on a few free evening lectures a year from visiting scholars discussing their areas of research. I've heard talks about Klondike gold rush ghost ships, the spectacle of war in the ancient war, the proper interpretation of Augustus's breastplate on a famous statue, and Viking longships. For the same reasons I try to go to the opera once a year, I think the talks broaden my horizons a bit. This past Wednesday, I went to one on Armenian religious arts and crafts from Istanbul. It ran long, but there were some purdy pictures of some bitchin' needlepoint. And the title of the post is the takeaway line, which the speaker used to sum up why so much fancy and expensive stuff was donated to the Armenian Orthodox church. I just thought it was funny. Next up, "Text, Drugs, and Protocol in Medieval Medicine." I have to go just for the title.

Also, if anyone down here is interested in this kind of thing, they're doing a little membership drive. If they can't get a few more members of the New Orleans chapter, then they'll cut one sponsored talk per year. It's a little pricey, but the magazine you get with membership is really good.

Mardi Gras was a week ago.

It was a good day. Here are some pictures I found on my phone afterwards:

Catch-up.

Sorry for not posting, Mom and the two or three people who read this. Here is an incomplete list of things that have happened in the past few weeks, in no particular order:
Venus in Fur by the http://www.southernrep.com/. Trippy and transgressive and exciting.
Transcendent fried chicken at Willie Mae's Scotch House.
Ludacris:

Food truck rally:

Superbowl:

Walking out of a Bourbon street dive and working with a guy walking in to straighten out the doormat so nobody tripped, and then we both gave each other the thumbs up.
So much king cake:

Everybody getting into the spirit of things:

Watching a parade and commenting that I would do anything for a bag of Zapp's, and then catching a bag of Zapp's from a float.
Morning 40 Federation:

Endymion crawfish boil, the hubris of a nine-component float, and this crazy dude in a turtleneck:

Parades, parades, parades, including a really fantastic roll by the Intergalactic Krewe of Chewbacchus.

Carnival!

Sorry about the posting drought. Things have been busy. To catch up, here's a chronological series of photos of pre-Mardi Gras goings-on: The Phunny Phorty Phellows as seen from the Columns, stands going up in front of Gallier Hall, a high school marching band practicing on my street, the float for the sub-krewe I escorted in Krewe du Vieux, and the St. Aug Marching 100 in a parade last night.







And that brings us up to date. Off to the parades!

Miscellaneous from the past few weeks: downed traffic light; state of contemporary fiction; beach proposal; ship passing the Wal-Mart.

Huh.

Took the day off work to putter around the house, bake some bread, do some cooking, and the like. Then just to get some fresh air I took a little jaunt around my neighborhood. Turns out I live a block away from Cleaver & Co., "a locally sourced, whole animal butcher shop in New Orleans, specializing in fresh meat, sausages, and specialty prepared food items." They do classes. I had no idea it was there.

Sign; fresh wreck; two press-on nails in a dry fountain.

A good start.

Slightly ambiguous fireworks instructions.