I couldn't get through the Quarter.   It took me forty-five minutes driving.    At one point I abandoned my car to walk but the ooze was so thick that I could barely move.   It was like five feet of molasses.

Like an oil spill – all stuck together in huge clumps of strangely colored hues.   Except the colors are too bright for nature. There are greens and reds and rainbow colors as bright as a cartoon.

It barely moves.   Defies the natural currents.   So viscous than normal life gets snuffed out...  It shouldn't be here!  It's unnatural.

Invasion of the Suburbs!

Outside the WWOZ studio window, the Quarter has been converted to a Mecca for middle America.  30,000 teenage Lutherans are on their Hajj – not to a sacred place that celebrates the birth of suburbia (like Disneyland).   But to the opposite.  The French Quarter.   The place that makes Vegas seem tame.  Even refined.  Sophisticated.  Even intelligent. 

The Quarter who's best citizens are bi-polar or simple garden variety drunks.  Where the American Psychological Association does it's field work.  Where big pharma finds new uses for psychtropic drugs.

30,000 teenagers who look so scrubbed and protected are here in the French Quarter.  Living a version of the TV show “Lost.”   Together, neither they nor the Quarter makes any sense.  They go together like head and glove.

The Quarter where they're surrounded by everything religion preaches against.   It's like that year that the Southern Baptist convention was booked the same weekend as Southern Decadence.  Did that master planner think all those Southerners would welcome each other with open arms?

Somehow I think their God is playing this great practical joke with them.  Using those 30,000 teenagers merely to create a skit for a public radio show.  DAMN YOU GARRISON KEELER!

Oh yeah.  I might as well do the same.  Tonight midnight until Sunday at 3am.  Music and sound clips and more of this nonsense.  

Next weeks show - 

What if the oil spill was faked and the moon landing was real?