digitaldiscipline ◾ ◾ Things You Don't See Every Day

Readers who've chewed through Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash may share in my allusions to the Reverend Wayne's Pearly Gates & Falabalas' method of infecting parishioners-to-be via Kool-Aid containing compromised DNA.

This practice, or something remarkably similar, is alive and well here in New Orleans in a surprising fashion. The fact that these thoughts were anchored in a maelstrom of self-induced culture shear provided me with much internal amusement in the face of what could have been prodigious awkwardness yesterday morning.

You see, much like many of the locals, the House of Blues gets pious on Sunday mornings with a "Gospel Brunch" - this is good, good, and bad [imho].
- Good #1 - the food. Quite possibly the finest buffet chow I've ever gotten outside of, and this includes some damn good stuff in Vegas. Excellent service, if a tad crowded at the tables.
- Good #2 - the musicianship. K said she expected James Brown to join these guys [a singer & quartet in very dapper gold suits and a backup band [keyboard, guitar, bass, and drums]], because they were that good. I was less taken with the "hostess" in a screaming orange circus tent, but these guys were clearly having fun [1].
- Bad. Gospel music. It can't be helped - it's God's Techno. Four to nine words, repeated forever. Sure, it's perky [when it's not bluesy], and it's easy enough to tune out the content, but . .. .oif, repetitive, repetitive, repetitive, repetitive.

Great personal amusement was derived by the rich internal overlay of Convergence V memories associated with the venue. . . loud, dark, smoky, drunken gothy goodness at 3am versus bright, perky, family foodness at 10am.

I, uh, prefer the former. A lot. *chuckles*

[1] - One fellow looked, not moved by the Spirit, but more like sodomized by it. He -really- wants to walk around heaven with Jesus, and couldn't seem to finish expressing this sentiment. . . heartfelt and tuneful [and sweaty], it was amusing to see the drummer and keyboard player swapping glances as if to say, "Do you know how to get him to shut up already? This is getting embarrassing."