Cerasoli Encounters Buffoonery, Calls It ‘Absurd’

Posted on October 8, 2007 by Varg

New Orleans Inspector General suggested yesterday, in a round-about way, that the Mayor’s office was hindering his ability to do what the voters of New Orleans appointed him to do.

Several times in his interview with a seemingly-drugged and goofy Garland Robinette late yesterday, Cerasoli made clear statements that it wasn’t the city council throwing up roadblocks preventing him from seeking his own independent legal representation.

In what he describes as “absurd,” the city attorneys said he didn’t have the power to seek independent legal council, stating they would act as Cerasoli’s counsel instead.

The practical question at this point is: What if one of the city attorneys (or even, one of their friends maybe) is the one being investigated?

Cerasoli: Hey city attorney, mind if I investigate you?

City Attorney: Actually, yes.

Cerasoli:How about your friend over there?

City Attorney: He didn’t do anything.

Cerasoli:But can I legally investigate?

City Attorney: I suppose yes.

(calls friend on the phone)

City Attorney: Hey Ray! Investigation’s coming!

Complete interview here.
Also, Garland must have had a three martini lunch before this interview. He does however finally give a reason as to why he softballs C. Ray every time the mayor is on. And here I thought it was because they shared a special moment in the days after Katrina.

2 thoughts on “Cerasoli Encounters Buffoonery, Calls It ‘Absurd’”

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Schroeder says:

October 12, 2007 at 7:44 am

I suspect Garland’s anti-depressant dose is a wee too high — instead of ranting himself into a pit of misery, he’s now exploding into hysterical laughter — which has nothing to do with the fact that he seldom has any information to contribute to a conversation.

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Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.