Huzzah!
In the true spirit of my blog, in which I take weeks, sometimes months to follow up doing something with posting it to this blog, here is a post which is long overdue - my trip to the Renaissance Fair.
The festival is a travelling one, where a number of complexes around the country sit, dormant, for most of the year, and for six weeks are occupied by the fleet when the fair is in town. Much like ye olde Brittin of yesteryear, the festival is swarming with scabbed, diseased children sobbing and clutching the pale, rickety bones of their mothers' leggs as they mill their way through rotting faeces and dead bodies. Also much like the festivals we used to host in our fyne lande, it takes place slap bang in the middle of the desert, with mountains and searing, searing heat.
The festival was thirsty work, and after a few beers I was ready to snap some of the local tomfoolery. I can only apologise that the wealth of terrible British accents cannot be represented here.
This man stood with two flaming torches on his head. He was indeed flaming. I'm not sure what I found most troubling: what was on his head, or what was happening around his buttocks. This is not cool:
Although these dancers were good, they did not have bellies which were ample enough to make me laugh. I want big bellies, wobbling up and down, turning some kind of sexy dance into a morbid spectacle.
Here we see some of the fantastic word play on offer throughout the day. The above was also another subtle reminder that there was a vaguely homosexual undercurrent to the festival.
Do you see?
And here it begins to get a little lazy. When no good pun is to be found, adding a letter here or there reminds us that we are in a world many years wrong.
In real life, this man was actually incredibly sexy. He really had very nice leggs indeed.
The man in this photo is gay. This was truly a carnivalesque day of misrule!
Ye olde telephone boxxe. Just in case ye need to order a cabbe.
And finally, here is proof that in the USA you are never more than 10ft away from some form of Spam product. Here, the SpamVan was supplying a much needed treatment for the maggot-infested wounds we all suffered.
It was actually a fun day, although it was hot as hell. One thing I wish I'd photographed but didn't for some reason was the "Dead Ed" show, which was a ventriloquist and his skeletal dummy. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on this sort of thing, but if the VENTRILOQUIST himself is wearing a face mask, where is the ventriloquism? It's like a balancing act taking place on the floor.
Still. Never mind.
The festival is a travelling one, where a number of complexes around the country sit, dormant, for most of the year, and for six weeks are occupied by the fleet when the fair is in town. Much like ye olde Brittin of yesteryear, the festival is swarming with scabbed, diseased children sobbing and clutching the pale, rickety bones of their mothers' leggs as they mill their way through rotting faeces and dead bodies. Also much like the festivals we used to host in our fyne lande, it takes place slap bang in the middle of the desert, with mountains and searing, searing heat.
The festival was thirsty work, and after a few beers I was ready to snap some of the local tomfoolery. I can only apologise that the wealth of terrible British accents cannot be represented here.
This man stood with two flaming torches on his head. He was indeed flaming. I'm not sure what I found most troubling: what was on his head, or what was happening around his buttocks. This is not cool:
Although these dancers were good, they did not have bellies which were ample enough to make me laugh. I want big bellies, wobbling up and down, turning some kind of sexy dance into a morbid spectacle.
Here we see some of the fantastic word play on offer throughout the day. The above was also another subtle reminder that there was a vaguely homosexual undercurrent to the festival.
Do you see?
And here it begins to get a little lazy. When no good pun is to be found, adding a letter here or there reminds us that we are in a world many years wrong.
In real life, this man was actually incredibly sexy. He really had very nice leggs indeed.
The man in this photo is gay. This was truly a carnivalesque day of misrule!
Ye olde telephone boxxe. Just in case ye need to order a cabbe.
And finally, here is proof that in the USA you are never more than 10ft away from some form of Spam product. Here, the SpamVan was supplying a much needed treatment for the maggot-infested wounds we all suffered.
It was actually a fun day, although it was hot as hell. One thing I wish I'd photographed but didn't for some reason was the "Dead Ed" show, which was a ventriloquist and his skeletal dummy. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on this sort of thing, but if the VENTRILOQUIST himself is wearing a face mask, where is the ventriloquism? It's like a balancing act taking place on the floor.
Still. Never mind.
posted by JS at 2:33 PM
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