I would have written yesterday, but I was too busy stuffing doughnuts and pancakes into my mouth. Jelly and syrup, not to mention powdered sugar, would have been all over the keyboard.
Indeed, the keyboard already has so many crumbs on or in it, that if it were vacuumed, the resulting pile would be, well, really disgusting.
But I digress.
Yesterday was Fat Tuesday, also known as Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras or Fasnacht or Carnival (read "an excuse to behave badly for a day"). That would make today Ash Wednesday, or the start of Lent in the Christian calendar. The season of Lent commemorates the forty days that Jesus spent fasting in the desert enduring temptation, as recounted in the New Testament.
Fat Tuesday provides the opportunity to live it up and feel good about it before the coming privation of the Lenten season. In the British Isles, Shrove Tuesday is traditionally a day to eat rich foods, particularly ones larded with butter and eggs and sugar, so that these ingredients are not around to tempt you during Lenten fasting.
Mardi Gras and New Orleans are practically synonymous at this time of year. It would appear that the city of laissez les bon temps rouler has recovered enough to continue the celebration in traditional style.
The tradition of Carnival, celebrated in many Latin countries, goes back to medieval times, and reached its apotheosis in the Venetian celebration, which had its beginnings around 1268. In its heyday, the festival stretched all the way from December 26 until midnight on Shrove Tuesday.
The wearing of masks was always an integral part of the whole Carnival experience in Venice, because after all, isn't it much easier and more fun to get away with bad behavior if no one can identify you? No wonder the Venetians considered maskmakers or mascherari to be important citizens.
Even in modern times, some cultures have turned Carnival into a days-long bacchanale involving much feasting and immoderate partying. It would be nice if these cultures were not spending taxpayer money to eat, drink and listen to Sheryl Crow and Earth Wind and Fire. Too bad they have no masks to hide behind.
Of course, the party is over now. The season of austerity has come.
Traditionally, we in the Christian church are called on to sacrifice something during Lent, to prepare ourselves for Holy Week and Easter. The trick is not to sacrifice something that we really don't like anyway but is good for us, such as brussels sprouts or exercise, but to sacrifice something that is not particularly good for us but we enjoy, if somewhat guiltily, such as Monster Truck Jam, or a lavish corporate jet.
The wearing of masks was always an integral part of the whole Carnival experience in Venice, because after all, isn't it much easier and more fun to get away with bad behavior if no one can identify you? No wonder the Venetians considered maskmakers or mascherari to be important citizens.
Even in modern times, some cultures have turned Carnival into a days-long bacchanale involving much feasting and immoderate partying. It would be nice if these cultures were not spending taxpayer money to eat, drink and listen to Sheryl Crow and Earth Wind and Fire. Too bad they have no masks to hide behind.
Of course, the party is over now. The season of austerity has come.
Traditionally, we in the Christian church are called on to sacrifice something during Lent, to prepare ourselves for Holy Week and Easter. The trick is not to sacrifice something that we really don't like anyway but is good for us, such as brussels sprouts or exercise, but to sacrifice something that is not particularly good for us but we enjoy, if somewhat guiltily, such as Monster Truck Jam, or a lavish corporate jet.
Sacrifice is good for the soul. Giving things up, particularly things that are not necessary but important to us, makes us feel righteous. And who doesn't enjoy being self-righteous every now and then?
I am going to sacrifice by (predictably) giving up chocolate. For one thing, as we all know if we read my post from last fall, I am a chocoholic. And even though recent studies have shown the health benefits of chocolate, eating a quarter-pound of it a day just can't be that good for you, or for your (that is to say, my) hips.
I am sure that you, Gentle Reader, would never behave in such an excessive, immoderate way.
Come Easter Sunday, however, my mask of self-righteousness comes off. I cannot guarantee that chocolate bunnies won't be hurt in the process.
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