Krewe of Aeolus

I’ve never been that fond of Endymion, which on the stretch nearest my house is a festival of boorish suburban drunkenness and animal territoriality. I’m taking a class in anthropology and have to keep a journal and I’m pretty sure what the next entry will be about, but I’m not going out in this foul weather to refresh my memory. The spray paint marking vast swaths of the public neutral ground as private property began to appear Thursday night, followed by the rebar and caution tape. The tents and locked porta-potties came next.

If you want to see American culture at its basest selfish and aquisitorial level, the complete collapse of social comity one might expect in the Zombie Apocalypse, there is no better place than the Orleans Avenue section of the route. Hell, in most of the zombie films the survivors show more cooperation and camaraderie, which would I guess make the neutral ground hordes the zombies. The chief of police promised to enforce the ordinances against this behavior but if you believe that I have an imaginary prime stake on the Carrollton Avenue street car line I want to sell you.

The gods, it seems, are not pleased with this behavior. Drenching rain, howling winds, frequent lightening and the prospect of tornadoes is likely to dampen some of the enthusiasm of the villaging hordes. The only downside to this will be if Endymion is moved to Sunday night behind Bacchus, which will mean many of these same people will try to crowd themselves onto Napoleon Avenue tomorrow night.