The US v. China?

A little while ago, I wrote a piece for my young son, Erich Ferger, about making a difference in the world. I was just re-reading it. What stood out this time around was the point I was trying to make about changing the world for the better. Make the world free!

Any form of collectivism/statism (socialism and its' variants, communism, totalitarianism) must ultimately fail, and often the result of this failure is massive human bloodshed, and/or massive human starvation.

The fact is that here in America, we shall soon see people dying of starvation on the streets, just like in Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. We  now have well over a century and a half of proof, the sordid results of the leftists insane dream to create a Utopia. The end result of socialism/collectivism is societal, governmental and cultural collapse.

But here's a thought: if the Chinese abandon their communist government and embrace freedom, meaning they drastically reduce taxation and regulation, remove burdensome restrictions, decriminalize specific human behavior, involve the population in electing legislatures and executives, and encourage the investment of capital-if the Chinese have the sense to do this, to embrace free market capitalism, then it would be only the Chinese who could prop up our leftist, socialist policies after we go broke. Wouldn't that be ironic?

Thoughts about New Orleans: A Rant Written While Drinking Coffee in New Orleans at Home

There is a feeling you get when coming in to New Orleans, either by car or by plane. It is the feeling of entering another world, or even another dimension of existence.

New Orleans Saints

The following is a re-post of an article I wrote some time ago, right before the Saints won the Super Bowl.

NEW ORLEANS SAINTS

I have been a New Orleans Saints football fan all my life. That hasn't always been easy. For many years, the Saints had losing season after losing season. There were times when fans in the Superdome wore bags over their heads, in mock shame over their team's poor performance. Of course, these bag-headed fans were at the game, cheering the Saints (the "Ain'ts") on anyway.

But this year has been differant. This year, I've been moved to strong emotion over this edition of the Saints, with guys like Drew Brees, Pierre Thomas, Robert Meacham, Reggie Bush, Mike Bell, Darren Sharper, Jonathan Vilma, Jeremy Shockey, hell, the whole team playing to an unprecedented 13-3 season.

By "strong emotion", I mean a curious mixture of pride, joy, and happiness that something so meaningless as a football game could make me cheer with unbridled passion. I was there with the rest of them, screaming like a lunatic, actually getting angry if the referee made a bad call, or the opposing team scored. I like what talk show host Limbaugh said when someone asked him why he liked football so much. He answered: "well, I'm like most guys in this. Most guys I know love to watch football, because it allows them to spend unlimited amounts of passion, with minimal or no consequences." That's me alright. Yeah, it's just a game, but it's the SAINTS! and I love 'em! And my! Was it a spectacular ride, or what? Who can forget the nail-biting win to the Redskins in OT?... being behind 24-3 to the Dolphins?... slugging it out with the Carolina Panthers in the Dome?... losing to Tampa Bay (!?!), also in the dome?... beating the Patriots on Monday night football, with the whole nation watching... The Saints offense rose to the top of the NFL, and our quarterback Drew Brees is or was the number one rated passer in the league. Yes, this season was great, far beyond my expectations, and if the Saints make the Super Bowl, that's just gravy...particularly tasty gravy.

But there's more to it than being a fan. The best way for me to illustrate this to you is to imagine the Superdome filled with proud Saints fans, all shouting their joy to the heavens, making a noise so loud that the sportscasters on the field cannot hear each other. Many outsiders have commented on the unique ferocity of our loyalty to "The Boys". Nowhere else, they say, have they found fans more vocal and more supportive. You can hear it if you watch them on TV. For some reason, when I see the Dome packed with thousands of fans, all or nearly all of them filled up with the team spirit in a collective voice like thunder at the end of the world, I feel an enormous uplifting in my own spirit, more proud than I've ever been to be a
New Orleanian.

Thank you, Sean Payton and team! And well, well done! Now, we're with you in the playoffs!

A Confederacy of Dunces

My story on the Ignatius J. Reilly statue yesterday had about seventy or so hits-much to my surprise. I forgot to tell you all why the hotel moved the statue in the first place: so the Mardi Gras people wouldn't kidnap him, or damage the statue in any way.

Ignatius J. Reilly is Back!

Ignatius J. Reilly

TODAY has been an interesting day today, so far. Let me tell you a story about why, but first, let's go back two weeks from today, OK?

Two weeks ago, I was walking up Canal Street, probably thinking about Mardi Gras, when I passed the Chateau Bourbon Hotel just past Bourbon and Canal. Some of you might remember what this place used to be-the old D. H. Holmes department store ("meet me under the clock by Holmses, baby").

Well, "Holmses" went away, the Chateau Bourbon filled the empty building, and some sweet soul put up a bronze statue of Ignatius J. Reilly (photo at left) in the veranda right there in front of the hotel entrance. For those of you who don't know who the heck is Ignatius J. Reilly, he's the central character in a fiction/satire novel about his life in New Orleans, A Confederacy of Dunces. This book, one of the funniest I've ever read, won the Pulitzer prize, and became required reading at UNO by the time I got there in 1982. And the reason why his statue is in front of the Chateau Bourbon/the Old D.H. Holmes is because of the first scene in the novel. Ignatius is supposed to meet his mom there, under the clock.

Bolero

I remember well the first time I heard Maurice Ravel's classic Bolero. As it so happened, I was at a coffee shop called "Rue de la Course" on Magazine Street in New Orleans, drinking espresso, and finishing up a story I was working on. The shop always used to play some type of classical music over their sound system, and that day was no differant. Although I usually ignore classical music whenever and wherever I hear it (except when I'm driving), I heard a gentle, lilting melody that sounded somewhat mysterious, even alluring.I barely even noticed that there was music playing in the background, but as I've said, the melody was good, kind of catchy even, not quite like a pop tune but more like an old folk melody. My attention was immediately drawn by the fact that there was a light, but somehow militaristic drumbeat in the background, a steady rhythm that beat relentlessly but unobtrusively on, with a light, deft touch that again reminded me of a pop song.
I became really engrossed as I slowly became aware that the song was steadily picking up in volume (and rhythm), but at a measured, controlled pace. I sat there at my table, my story forgotten, listening to this piece in delighted enjoyment. I am always thrilled to discover good new music, and this was indeed very good. At first, the melody and counter melody was played by the lighter wind instruments, i.e., the flute, clarinet and piccolo, but as the volume ever so slowly increased, differant instruments picked up the tune, and all the while, that same relentless drumbeat kept up a steady and precise rhythm. I was totally gone, lost in this orchestral tour de force. I could see pictures in my mind, and also, I got the sense that the music was heading to an inevitable violent climax, but in the meantime, the violins picked up the beautiful melody, and now, all was joy and unbridled passion. And then came the brass instruments...soon, the entire orchestra was thundering in an unbelievable frenzy, clear, precise, measured...and the drumbeat still beat on and on. I probably forgot to breathe, for when the music came to an abrupt climactic end at the crashing of a tympani-drum, I sat there breathless and stunned. Involuntarilly, I said, "what the hell was that?" I looked up, embarrassed, and saw the pretty countergirl smiling at me in understanding. "That was "Bolero", she said.

Mardi Gras in New Orleans

MARDI GRAS IN NEW ORLEANS is fast approaching-Mardi Gras day is Tuesday, February 21. Are you thinking of coming to town to see the world's greatest free show? There are all kinds of things for you to consider. Where will you stay? If you live close by, and are planning to drive here, where will you park?

Unfortunately, all the hotels, motels (including the flea bags), flophouses, bunkhouses and camp grounds are all filled up. And if you are lucky enough to find a parking spot, you'll wind up walking a good distance to the parade routes.

So are there alternatives? Yes. You might get lucky and find a room in town, but beware-you're going to pay a lot for it. Try New Orleans Craiglist.com, or contact a travel agent and ask her if she knows if any of the locals are offering their homes, or rooms within their homes-for rent.

Although Mardi Gras day is Tuesday, the serious partying starts the Friday preceding. It's a long weekend: Friday until Wednesday morning (Ash Wednesday), there are lots of parades and festivities. And all of them free!

I recommend finding a spot on St. Charles Avenue, between Louisiana and Jackson Avenues. Canal Street will be packed solid. If you get there early enough, you'll be able to stake out a claim. I usually go early in the morning the Sunday before Mardi Gras, find a spot on the "neutral ground" (median), and pitch a tent. I bring food (food along the parade routes is abundant, but not cheap), scaffolding (to better see the parades, and catch more beads), and plenty of cold beverages in the cooler. There are abundant Port-a-Potties along the parade route on St. Charles, especially between Louisiana and Jackson Avenues. Parking is usually available in the adjacent neighborhoods, but be careful of restrictions (just look for any signs that restrict or forbid parking).