I was going to post a picture of lint rather than Lent, but the random photos of people’s disgusting belly buttons grossed me out to the extent that now I need the calm blankness of nothing. Still, tomorrow begins Lent, which is the reason for Mardi Gras in the first place. You indulge to sacrifice. You feast to go without. That is what I was taught about Mardi Gras. Somewhere along the way it became Spring Break in New Orleans, a time and a place where vomit is welcome everywhere and if you don’t get your identity stolen or date-raped than you just aren’t putting your back into it.
I long to be a person in the know, who attends Mardi Gras in the company of the local and the privileged. Bead thrower, rather than groveler.
Let’s talk about Lent though. Is it supposed to be capitalized? I’m not sure about that and while the Internet rests literally beneath my fingertips I prefer to learn some things from you all, my dear readers.
I am not a Catholic, or do you drop the article and just say, “Im not Catholic?” Once again with the question of capitalization. catholic? I doubt it. The seasons are not capitalized, and they seem so much more powerful than religion. It seems weird. Spring I understand, even if it is not correct.
Will you give anything up? Me? I’m thinking I will give up everything. All will and determination, all excesses and crutches, all beliefs and principles. For lent I will float and shuffle like a corn husk- cast from a tamale and discarded under a Mexican sun. mexican? For 40 days I will have no opinion, no favorite song, no particular bedtime. I might drink coffee. I might drink tea. There’s no way to tell.
For Lent, we are going to let the Great Magnet decide all things. great magnet?