New Toulouse

WHAT: Surrealist Ball (and potential chicken dinner)

WHEN: Saturday, August 22, 1:00 PM

WHERE: Spiegel Hall and Dimension Q

WHO: Krewe of Bast plus DJ Ghosty Kips plus you

WHY: Endways tingling, resuscitating demurely

HOW: Music treats understanding to dinner, a hat

SUGGESTED ATTIRE: Weighty irreverence

This morning I woke up to a piece of paper hitting me in the face. I’m still staying at the rooftop hotel, so I suppose that is not the worst thing that could have hit me. Groggily I peered at the page: it was a handbill advertising a maybe-party this Sunday, hosted by Krewe Bayou.

Last year around this time, I asked the shadowy figure calling herself Queen Notakraken how a person might join the krewe, if he were so inclined. You are already in Krewe Bayou, she told me. Everyone is in Krewe Bayou, whether they know it or not.

You would think that as a member of the krewe, I would have heard about this party earlier, or whether we’ll parade, or what. You would think that, and you would be wrong.

So all I have to go on are whispers, and this poster, and what looks to be party decorations on the roof next door. They say that Ghosty Kips had to cancel on spinning the platters because of a family matter, and that the mysterious “DJ Tabasco” stepped in handily to save the day with his collection of Cajun, zydeco, and swamp pop recordings. (They don’t say what “swamp pop” is, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Okra-Cola.) They say that there will be plenty of beer, which will come in handy in case of fire. They murmur of a trivia contest with “fabulous prizes.” And I overheard a rumor to the effect that “everyone gets a baby kraken friend.”

Now you know everything I do.

Jack Mondieu, Ace Reporter, is often perplexed.

Surrealists gathered in Spiegel Hall Saturday to celebrate the first annual Surrealist Ball, sponsored by the Krewe of Bast. Guests arriving were announced by the Great Big Eye at the entrance shouting, “Has anybody seen my gal?”

Krewe members had transformed the auditorium into a phantasmagorical tableau in which the attendees in fantastical garb cavorted, engaged in wordplay, and sampled from the extraordinary buffet provided by Kristine Jinx-Kristan. The food, while often inedible, was often quite audible; for example, an amuse-bouche called “Two Matches. One New, One Burned. Garnished with Mint,” said when prompted, “The sisters of St. Cathode ask that you cover yourself with filaments and take pains to make yourself fully incandescent this evening.”

By popular demand, the decorations will remain up for the coming week, and persons wishing to take home the buffet may do so by consulting the poster on the table.

Nikita Weymann led a game of Exquisite Corpse, asking individuals for words. “And then,” she said, “I will glue them all together and feed them to a snail.” Game participants were Alterego Mee, RMarie Beedit, Kristine Jinx-Kristan, Liza Veliz, Gamaliel, Dr. Avalon, Francesca Alva, Crispin Sturges, Harley Mihnea, Carter Denja, Ghosty Kips, Eilidh McCullough, Maggie Hawksby, Pazzo Pestana, and Gragarth, who together produced the following three sentences, each contained in a snail that is still obtainable in the Spiegel Hall auditorium:

The oblivious feather hungrily leaned the laggy tea.

The ugsome pineapple mindlessly wobbled the delicious elbow.

DJ Ghosty Kips supplied a gloriously madcap set of meticulously mapped-out music to the cheering congregation. “Please hold your tomatoes,” he entreated, warning of an upcoming song. “Hold your friend’s tomatoes if necessary.” At least two persons metamorphosed into the delicious nightshade fruit in response.

“Oh no, I spent half an hour getting dressed,” said Ohdearme Ohmai. “I’m not changing into a tomato yet.”

Photo credits: Kristine Jinx-Kristan, Henri Godenot.

See more photos here and here.

A. Flyonthewall is rarely this loquacious.

The Krewe of Bast invites you to attend the first annual Surrealist Ball, to be held in the Spiegel Hall auditorium this Saturday, August 23, beginning at 1:00 PM. Expect strange music by DJ Ghosty Kips, peculiar amuse-bouches by Kristine Jinx-Kristan, and singular decor “done entirely by cats,” according to a krewe representative. Those unsure what to wear to such an event may wish to examine the many free avatars available at Meta-Body II.

Gigi Lapin resides on Basin Street with her pet crawfish, Jimbo.