Saturday, February 04, 2006

In Freeport last Saturday in one of the preliminary rounds of the stickfight competition, I watched stickmen contend for a measly $500.

And little boys staring in fascination at these dancing warrior men. And the air filled with the sound of drums and a chantwell with a high but gravelly, sweet lavway. And the singers who give the response to his call. And the people crowd round the gayelle shouting "bois!" Braksing from blows they do not feel.

And I said to myself, self, this is your Carnival.

And I was struck with terror that this is the root that we are allowing to die. This idea of Carnival as resistance and defiance and warrior spirit is dying a slow painful death and being replaced by fake breasts that are more obscene than any Dame Lorraine.

-- Attillah Springer, in her column in today's Guardian.

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