Dear readers, Louis Maistros is one of our newest generation of HumidCIty contributors. I am proud to point out that a re-worked version of a post that came up here and his own blog has now been put up as a guest colum on NOLA.com [read it here]
Go give it a read, I’m sure he would rather see intelligent comments than the tripe that usually appears in NOLA.com’s foolishly unmoderated stream…
Loki, HumidCity Founder
Some of our readers may well have noticed that once again a new crop of authors are appearing on the blog. You see, HumidCity is an organic community that continually grows and shifts. While I remain the dictatorial overlord the cast of characters goes through a pretty consistent state of flux.
Rooted firmly in the “pass the mic” ethos of the hip-hop scene we try to bring in new voices that we beieve need to be heard. Unlike the well known Metroblogging sites we do not make any money from the effort. As a pro blogger I wholeheartedly support being paid for my words, it is what keeps a roof over my wife’s head. I also believe that there are times when purity of message requires a removal of profit motive. HumidCity exists perpetually in one of those times: post levee failure New Orleans.
That said would like to share the current roster of internet reprobates that have agreed to share their wit, wisdom, rants, and perspectives with you. As always the list of active authors will change as people join and leave. I’m going to try to recap the current culprits monthly (we’ll see how that works out…)
[EDIT: I am a clod. I completely forgot that the madcap snarking of Adrastos will also be found here on occassion. Omission now rectified. -Loki the clod]
As always, these voices are brought to you free of censorship by HumidCity. Please go check out their blogs, especially if you live outside of the New Orleans area. It will be infuriating and educational, I promise!
-Loki, Founder HumidCity
Hello citizens of Humid City,
Louis Maistros here, of the Marigny neighborhood. Some of you might know me as the former proprietor of Louie’s Juke Joint record shop/Vodou botanica on Decatur Street. If you’re a musician there’s a chance you bought cheap guitar strings from me at some point. Or maybe my wife Elly set you up with a big chunk of High John the Conqueror root.
I’ve been asked by the esteemed Mr. Loki to join the Humid City blogging team. So here I am, rip-roaring to go.
Just a few things, so y’all know what to expect.
Much of what I’ll post here will be cross-posted from my own blog, which is called These Things May Not Be Right, But They Are True. My mode of perpsective there tends to be from New Orleans to the outside world, so for the locals it may seem a tad over-explainy at times regarding certain things that we all know too well. So bear with me on that sort of thing, if you please. From time to time I will post things just for HC, and those will be geared more towards the locals with all the usual clubhouse slogans and secret handshakes.
My grand mission is to inspire peace and harmony through information and profanity. If bad words threaten your sunny disposition, please feel free to shield your eyes from the screen when you see my name appear. It won’t hurt my feelings because I won’t even know you’re doing it.
My personal situation is, briefly: husband of one and father of two, self-employed with the Juke Joint thing online now (my day job), homeschooler of the kids with the help of my lovely bride Elly (who spends most of her time doing animal rescue work around town), and I’m also a writer with a New Orleans novel called “The Sound of Building Coffins” due out from the Toby Press in March of 2009.
A few links of interest if you want to know more:
The blog: These things may not be right, but they are true
The store: Louie’s Juke Joint on Ebay and the Juke Joint website
Social network stuff: you can find me on Myspace and Facebook
We also have a resource page for New Orleans homeschoolers here: neworleanshomeschool.org
I think that about covers it.
I hope I don’t disappoint, and am happy to be here.
later,
Louie