To briefly characterize the city (and the state surrounding it) in the words of current governer Mike Foster as "perfectly content to be last in everything," Baton Rouge is a wondrous specimen of southern apathy, insularity, and just plain good ol' ignorance.

A deep regional wellspring of support for Nazi, Klansman, and Republican David DuKKKe, the city is a paradise for right-wingers, fundamentalists, and rednecks, positioned squarely in the romantic heart of the "Cancer (ahem, CHEMICAL) Corridor" on the Mississippi River. This colorful term refers to a tightly-linked chain of chemical processing installations which are the legs on which the state's industrial economy stands on (apart from agriculture, naturally). It is, incidentally, the main culprit behind dumping lead and vinyl containiments into the Big Muddy, encouraged by a deliberate lack of oversight by its always-ready-to-whore-to-industry governor.

Unless you are intrigued by the idea of a promising career in a refinery or fish hatchery in exchange for a below-par salary in a frightfully reactionary area with one of the worst standards of living in the United States, avoid Baton Rouge at all costs. Then again, keeping all these things in mind, it's almost worth it to live there to laugh at the inhabitants.

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