Gentilly Girl- a part of the 99%

December 24, 2008

Merry Christmas From The Church of Our Lady Of Gentilly

It’s 78 degrees, humid and thunder clouds are amassing. It’s supposed to be cold and snowing, but the Nagin Administration is in charge of scheduling the weather (because C.Ray “controls” the vertical and the horizontal in order to help us buffoons get by. Evil minion Blakely probably had this job since he’s the Recovery Czar.) Well the snow came two weeks early, but at least Nagin and his minions actually made something happen. We should give thanks for at least that I guess.

Enough of that snark.

Tonight Betts, our dear friend Elaine and I will be holding court at Le Cote Brasserie on Tchoup.  Then we head out to see friends at the Starlight and play games, come home for “A Christmas Carol” with Alistair Sim and then your’s truly gets to start prep work for tomorrow’s dinner- Prime rib on the Weber and the fixens.

To you my Gentle Readers and for everyone in the New Orleans area, have a Merry Christmas (Bill O’Reilly liked that) and may you and yours have a great time. (Carpetbaggers are not included since they work for the Grinch) And to the NOLA Bloggers- I give you all a big hug and a kiss.

This bitch will be back on the 26th.

Be Blessed!

August 15, 2008

So We Are Optimistic and Depressed At the Same Time

WaPo has an editorial concerning attitudes in Orleans parish reguarding rebuilding from the Federal Flood.

“The Kaiser Foundation notes that 74 percent of the people of New Orleans are optimistic about the future — a remarkable outlook for a city that has longed for safety and security since the levees broke on Aug. 29, 2005.”

I find myself cautiously optimistic, feeling forgotten, and fucking mad about the entire way this rebuilding has been handled, especially since it ain’t our fault. And to add insult to imjry, the carpetbaggers are screwing us.

Sinn Fein!

May 3, 2008

The Second Time on the “Second Lines”…

Last Saturday, a major dissing of our Cultures and Traditions here in New Orleans went down: Da’ NOPD broke up a Second Line, a Jazz Funeral, in the Treme last Saturday. (Of course the local paper didn’t report on the event until the wee hours of the morning today.) This was as the mourners had finished and were walking to a place to share the Repast at a Community Center.
For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of this kind of funerary rite, here’s what it entails:`a procession heads toward the ceremonial place of passing (could be a business, a fishing hole, a certain park or the cemetery.) A brass band leads the folks playing dirges. When the selected place is reached, the words are said and the departed is ready to move on. Then the band strikes up a different beat and the mourners start to dance in order to help their friend move on to the other World. “Dancing them Home” is also a way to stop the tears and just remember our friend as we continue through day-to-day life. We are a Family. We take care of our own.
Once the Second Line is done, the folks gather in places and share food, drink and stories about the departed. Some members of the “Family” might be at one place, others at others. But this is usually how it goes down.
This is a Sacred ritual. It is rooted in Culture and Tradition, Respect and Humanity. This act is seen as essential by many of us as part of our Heritage and our City. Events such as this define us as a people and a Culture, the continuation of what has been for many, many years. As a Native I will say now: “This is part of our Birthright, our being a part of the Life that moves through the heavy damp air as it sways the Spanish Moss on the oak trees. Here is where we came from and in the fullness of time where we shall return. The muddy waters of Old Man River, the clays in the swamps… the scent of cypress trees… all of these things are also part of us. We dance the Dance of Life, knowing full well the fragility of the living, and we will not give our ancestral ways up. This is our home and these are our Traditions. This is OUR Dance.”.

This is why what happened last Saturday is an attack and an affront to the Culture of New Orleans. It is orchestrated by those of money and power. Our city is badly damaged by the Federal Flood, and they want the land for speculation, for those who would buy a condo near the French Quarter in order to “celebrate” three days once every year at Mardi Gras. To break the back of the old Cultures in order to be able to schedule and charge for every little thing we locals do as a matter of course. To make their way our way. These are the desires of malignantly evil creatures.

These are the carpetbaggers, those who swoop down when the we are hurting and gnaw on our bones even as we die. They only see New Orleans as a cash register, not the living entity that it truly is. Our Life, our city’s Life, is something they can never know. The Spirit of Place can never enter them because they cannot “feel”.

New Orleans belongs to Her people and they to Her. Native or adopted, it doesn’t really matter: we are all infected with Her elixier… the “Water of Life”. Our strange little anachronistic bastion of the Old World infused with the desire to just be ourselves in the midst of American Culture gone crazy. The reminder of what could be, if only one accepts it.

One paragraph of the above article caught my eye:

“Snuffing Saturday’s parade was an “attack on the culture,” the same culture that gave birth to the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, said Wilson’s longtime friend, Jerome Smith. He found the timing ironic: At about the same time that police had scattered an authentic funeral march, near Esplanade and Claiborne avenues, Jazz and Heritage Festival-goers were lined up behind a band at the Fair Grounds, ready to follow a second-line recreated for tourists.”

Need I say more?

Senn Fein


Perfesser Ashley Morris, a determined lover and defender of New Orleans and Her Culture passed one month ago yesterday. I can almost hear him ranting about this. He did have his Second Line, and he’d be pissed that someone else couldn’t have their’s.
We have established a fund to help his family through this rough period in time. Please donate.

March 7, 2008

Another Reason I Stay Home or in the Starlight…

I freakin’ hate Conservatives.

February 29, 2008

Raise the Drawbridge! Release the Gators to the Moat!

The peasants are revolting! (or they might not be… depends on your point of view.)
Lonely is the head that bears the crown. The Defender of New Orleans paces wearily upon the the ramparts of the Fortress of Orleans pondering the rumors that have been brought to light by his operatives in the Kingdom. He looks out into the fog-shrouded night for the glow from and armed crowd. He tries to listen for the creaking wheels of siege engines being moved into position, the sounds of marching feet or the whoosh of an arrow flying by, but alas, there are no sounds such as these tonight just as there is only the glow of street lamps.

The noble Defender stands guard through the night knowing that one day the end is coming. His End and the ending of all of the magnificent works which he so generously gave to the people of the Kingdom. Tears run down his cheeks as he wonders what went wrong…

I call B/S on the above narrative. Our Invisible Mayor is beefing up security at City Hall months after the fracas that accompanied the City Council Meeting that voted for the demolition of the Projects, but only a week after he informed the World that his picture is now on the Aryan websites. (I wonder if that’s what all the new cop toys must be for: protecting the his castle.)

Yes violent crime is up in the City, but since the Flood there have only been the aforementioned skirmish in the Council Chamber in December and the 5k+ March on City Hall to decry the upward spiral of murders here in Jan. ’07. Nothing bad happened at the march, and the probs during the skirmish was limited to a few “outside agitators”. Outside of the fact that City Hall is a bitch to get to work for your needs, it’s a fairly peaceful place (amazing, ‘eh?)

So why the beefing up of security at this time? Is King Amon-C. Ray going to spring some new crap on us in the near future? Will his minions announce the start of more stupid Nagin tricks upon the city? Or did he sell us to Disney?

I really wanna know.

Sinn Fein!

(Note to self: stock up on Greek Fire and arrows. Should get some more torches and pitchforks. Get boots… flats just won’t do for the assault upon anti-logic. Where’s my Captain’s hat? Hitch teh Katz to my chariot!)

February 4, 2008

“We Don’t Need No Stinking Corporate Sponsors…”

It seems that our “wonderful” invisible Mayor was trying to sell out OUR traditions to the Corporate Pigs.

Mr. Nagin, OUR city’s gov’ment ain’t no freakin’ company: it belongs to the citizens. You are not a fucking CEO, you are OUR servant. Same holds true for anyone who works for OUR city gov’ment. You work for US.

The Social Contract states that we help each other, that we care for each other, and that we arrive at a common scheme of governance. Those who are part of that governance structure obey US. Get that one you jerks?

Not one of you fuckers have the right to sell our culture, our souls, our lives to the highest bidder. We will not allow any company’s “Brand” on us. We are not serfs.  And you and those misfits you have placed in City Hall are not overlords. (Remember the term “Civil Servants”?)

There will be no “Muses, sponsored by Monsanto” or “Proteus by Phillips”. Or “Comus provided by Chevrolet”.

We are the people of this city. This is our culture, our way of living… it is our heart. It is alive, just as it’s been for three centuries. This city is ours, you corporate whack-job.  We are New Orleans, and without us all that will exist is a freak-show Disney version of the real thing. New Orleans, the city and the soul, belongs to US, not you and your corporate B/S.

In other words you SOB, we ain’t for sale.

My ancestors helped found this city, carving a place to live out of the swamps. Some of my family were “Free People of Color”. A few others were Haitians that drove the French from their island. Some of my forebearers were pirates, others fished the seas. Many are my elders that died fighting for our country and the reason for it’s existence. They lived their lives, just as I do.
“This Land is My Land, this Land is Your Land…”. Get the fucking picture you fucking corporate slaves?

Why don’t you, Mr. Nagin and gang, stop trying to brand and sell us, and instead actually do your damn jobs as OUR servants? Otherwise we will storm the Bastille, and you fucks will be toast. (Remember last year?)

New Orleans is OURS. We ain’t for sale. OUR culture belongs only to US, not your corporate masters. We will not be “Branded”.

Sinn Fein!


December 9, 2007

Ripping A Soul Apart

This week has been nothing but pain. The house is coming along, but I keep seeing the faces of the boys that died during the Crisis. I’m freakin’ feeling guilty: I still live. Working through the feelings of pain, loss and guilt are nothing but torture. (Last night a friend of ours almost lost it over the death of his good friend last Christmas Eve… I had to come out of my funk in order to try to help.)
Death is no stranger to me: my mom died in my arms when I was 13. That was the start for me: I wound up dealing with the AIDS Crisis a decade later. (do you have any idea what it feels like when everyone but yourself dies in a week from your Billiards team? How about finding out that your clerks are dead?) I remember my friend Adam having to have a lobotomy due to his AIDS dementia: he couldn’t remember my name when I would show to clean his home. I remember bailing a good friend out of jail because of the medications not working well together. I remember taking my coven to the top of Bernal Heights one night to show them the  “void” of light over S.F. General Hospital.
I lived that life, and the now current purging of New Orleans reeks of the same shit. I will not tolerate it.
Decades ago I dedicated my life to service. I knew what the cost was, but I also understood the benefit. (not that I knew that I’d be having nightmares and B/S, not to mention acts of kindness that still haunt me.)
When the Federal Flood happened, I made my decision to fight for New Orleans. Yeppers, my partner Betts tells me to STFU at times, but I continue the fight. The catz sit on my desk whilst I’m going crazy, but they know that Grand Ma is focussed. They understand. Do you understand me?
And ya’s know what? Ya’s don’t want me to go Freya on your asses… I have a ton of catz to unleash. I don’t wish to do that.
Alright, we must fight for Public Housing. We who stand for New Orleans must be there.
We cannot allow outsiders to determine the the future of our city, our home. This place is OURS dammit! New Orleans is our place, and the mother-fucking outsiders should have no say about our future.

At the risk of getting my tail feathers singed, I was the first here in NOLA to bring up Klien’s book “The Shock Doctrine”. Here is an article from ZNet that tells it like it is.

This coming week is the time for those of us who love New Orleans to prove how much we believe in this place… the proof of the pudding when it comes to love of place. Getting our house back means little when thousands of others are denied homes.


I will never be able to have a peaceful sleep in our almost fixed home if I know that there is a Grannie, or an Auntie, Uncle, Grandpa… who cries because they cannot return home, can’t be with their families.

My lament over these last few decades was that I could not die, that the Goddess would not let me die. I’ve always wondered what the reason for that shit. Now I know… the Fourth Battle of New Orleans starts soon. It’s about Humanity over dollars, a Human breath against the ticker tape from the Stock Market. The value of Life and Living…

If you have a heart, and a soul… work with us to stop the destruction of all of these homes. Please, please… don’t let this crime happen. We will pay for this in the Future if it goes down this way.

December 7, 2007

Barbarians At the Gates

Since the Federal Flood of our city I have been monitoring the news, especially concerning the Projects. Know now that I AM NOT a fan of the Projects, but I do understand the need for them at this point in time. People need to be able to come home. (And these folks aren’t the crack-head murderers… they are the Elders who care for the kids and act as teachers)

ThinkNOLA has a piece by Professor Quigley concerning this topic.

I will be at one of the complexes that HUD wants to bulldoze on the appointed day. I’m going to stand for my fellow citizens and against the money/Repug machine’s desires.

Once again this is our time to stand against the money pigs and reclaim our city, our home. We know what New Orleans means… now we have to stand for the most vernerable of our folks. It is time to prove that color doesn’t matter in this city, only love and trust… acceptance… NOLA is our bloodtype. We MUST fight for the soul of our city.

October 30, 2007

What Happens When Yuppies Invade a Neighborhood…

Filed under: Carpetbaggers,New Orleans — Tags: , — Morwen Madrigal @ 7:58 pm

The mother-fucking Christian assholes and Yuppies have finally found a way to destroy one of the best Pagan and Queer celebrations in this country.

I saw this coming in ’95 (not this, but the influence of non- San Franciscan dot-com money pigs buying up the landscape). That’s why I had to leave: a retail manager couldn’t exist with the Yuppies pushing up property values and rents.

The reason I am posting this, outside of the fact that we used the Halloween Celebration to help fund HIV issues for 15 years, is that it could easily happen here. Not just Halloween, but all that we hold as sacred, a part of our Culture could go down the shitter because the “new” arrivals to our city “Just don’t like it”.

I lost my San Francisco to the Yuppie assholes and their ways. I will not lose this battle for the soul of New Orleans. Fuck Yuppies, fuck the rich that desire once-a year condos. Stay out of our city you sliming pieces of money.

October 3, 2007

Is This My World?


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