Heretics

I didn't mean to be on the Place the Sunday of the Médiévales but had to see a man about a dog and found myself stuck on the terrasse of a café sampling rosé and watching a bunch of Mirapiciens appropriating French history.  
There's the obligatory plinky music like rattling skeletons, wenches dressed up as wenches, some on horses, some on foot.  There's horse shit and sword throwers. Somehow they all manage to make the middle ages seem gay and clean.  They're all wearing trainers or flip flops beneath their pseudo paraphernalia.  
And they don't stop at the end of the 13th century.  No, there's more. There's the French Revolution; a tractor driven by a felt hatted peasant pulling a trailer with a guillotine and la tricoteuse, there's Napoleon's army with pipes and smoking guns, Marcel Pagnol (?) and his girlfriend (??) along with a bunch of turn of the century bods under parasols.
French history stalls in 1930.  There's no mention of the war.
I appreciated the Cathares mind.  The woman tied to a pyre was a good move.