We should have the courage to acknowledge more of our history than what’s safe and cuddly and good for tourism.
Author Archives: C.W. Cannon
Posted inGovernment & Politics, Opinion
A letter to the next Dylann Roof
Sure you’ve been screwed, white boy, but it wasn’t by black people.
Posted inOpinion
Politics of passing: Rachel Dolezal would have had an easier time of it in old New Orleans
Did a socially established white person ever assume a black identity, long-term, in the era before Rachel Dolezal? Apparently Voodoo queen Marie Laveau’s lover did just that.
Posted inGovernment & Politics, Opinion
If Jindal’s anti-gay order reflects Southern ‘values,’ New Orleans has seceded from the region
There’s the Old South and then there’s the Other South. Revulsion over Jindal’s coded bigotry places New Orleans in the latter camp.
Posted inLand Use, Opinion
Shabby chic gives way to merely chic: How come? It’s the economy, stupid
In reality, much of the trumpeted social healing of our ancient problems amounts to little more than optics, the columnist argues.
Posted inGovernment & Politics, Opinion
‘A David Duke without the baggage’ finds himself with a load to carry anyway
Memo to the GOP: “You can’t go to the well again and again and then claim the water’s toxic.”
Posted inGovernment & Politics, Opinion
‘The night they drove Old Dixie’ … back up: reflections on Landrieu’s demise
The triumph of the Republican Party’s “Southern Strategy” can finally be called complete.
Posted inOpinion
Is debunking our obsession with what’s hip about New Orleans just the latest way to seem hip?
A Tulane conference contends that playing up what’s unique about New Orleans has a way of masking what’s wrong. The columnist doesn’t buy it.
Posted inOpinion, Schools
Cutting to the core of Jindal’s flip-flop on aligning schools with national standards
“Jindal has offered his hand to a Stepford wife, a conservative suburbanite, a Mrs. Brady.”
Posted inLand Use, Opinion
Call me a sentimental old fool, but I miss my Schwegmann’s — and I got a right to
The more I hear about how terrible the city was before the storm, the more I remember its unterrible charms.