Monday, August 25, 2008

Just because I burned my Bible, it don't mean I'm too sick to pray.

Barbecue is a family affair for the Rittelmeyers, so I read this Pop Matters article with great interest:
Barbecue. It’s the cuisine that most directly satisfies our Promethean aspect, our embrace of the flame. It’s a food at the intersection of race, history, cultural distinctions, and regional pride. It’s a Rashomon word, with meanings as personal and distinctive as the regions and the people who make the delicious food it describes.
It continues:
“[B]arbecue arose less from native cooking practices than from a European gaze that wanted to associate those practices with preexisting ideas of savagery and innocence,” Warnes writes... Warnes nimbly equates barbecue with those other indelible, necessary American pariahs: jazz and the blues — each not fully understood or appreciated but thoroughly recognized. This is a full exploration of a food bigger than any plate it’s served on, a serious study of the commonalities of the barbecue experience: “a chance to relax and spend an hour or ten in flight from the pressures of civilized life.”
For more Southern culture from Pop Matters, see this interview with Larry Love of Alabama 3:
Your hidden talents...?
As a son of preacher man I have been taught to never hide my light under a bushel, consequently I am a flayed carcass in the abattoir that is the music industry.

What do you want to say to the leader of your country?
Grow up and get a proper job.
Did you know that his ideal dinner date is Camille Paglia?

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