Preachings from the pulpit of the profane prophet

05/04/08 02:22
Bourbon blog 1
Bourbon Street is the unholy river of sex, drink, and jazz that runs through the famous French Quarter of New Orleans. People from all over the US come to bathe in it like saddhus on a non-stop pilgrimage to the Ganges. The river will wash away the tediousness of everyday life, it will cleanse the body of its desires, and carry them into the vast sea of forgetfulness. The course of the river can change, but its flow can never be halted. Whatever you do to stop it, the river runs through it.

Bourbon Street is an all-out attack on the senses. Bright neon blinds your eyes, clarinet solos compete for your attention, naked skin brush up against your own. The night air is warm and gentle, carrying the reek of sweat and alcohol on its wings. Perfumes mingle with strange odours from stalls and alleyways, creating small pockets of pure smell like nexuses of sound in a gallery of whispers. It is not a sight for sore eyes, and nobody walks the street unchanged or untouched. The reason you go there is the reason you stay away.

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Bourbon Street is the necessary outlet for sin in a society obsessed by virtue. It is the kind of place where college kids go to lose their virginity, where middle-aged business men go to humiliate themselves in front of twenty year old girls whose disgust is proportionate only to their nuditity, and where big mamas too fat to fuck go to flaunt their right to obesity and potentially cripple desperate drunks craving for a lap dance. Redemption is reserved for elsewhere.

Bourbon Street is an ongoing everyday carnival fenced in by state police. No masks are allowed on the circus grounds, no bystanders get to see the processions. Participation is the only rule, and observation is not an option. The balconies are crowded with beer-bellied men, throwing necklaces at mini-skirted girls passing by underneath, screaming for them to show their titties. Everybody is blowing off steam for the greater good, and when they return to their homes, debunked and deflated, the light of a better tomorrow comes shining in.

Bourbon Street is a public display of forbidden fruits. Bourbon Street is a taste of Paradise sanctioned by the Devil. Bourbon Street is the loving embrace of a vengeful God.

Bourbon Street will fulfill your every need, and leave you wanting twice as bad.

Bourbon blog 3

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