Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

Nathan Mattise (using a 2014 Moto G, sorry)

ABITA SPRINGS, Louisiana—To the uninitiated, folk art seems decidedly lo-fi. As opposed to the classical techniques and aesthetics shown off at a fine art or modern art museum, folk art runs a gamut of adjectives: utilitarian, decorative, junky, profound, recycled,, crafty, and more.

But at the Abita Mystery House, artistic curators have increasingly embraced the idea of our vintage technology taking on second life as folk art. Enter the old gas station turned museum, and circuit boards from long deceased computers, televisions, and other gadgets line the ceilings. Art Deco style robots (or bots made from more unused circuit boards) stand at attention to take visitor tickets.

Artist John Preble started putting together the museum in the 1990s; culture vultures as big as Mike and Frank from the History Channel's American Pickers have descended upon it since.

While a fair amount of the Mystery House aims to represent local tradition—kinetic dioramas depict things like Mardi Gras and road-side BBQ joints; an entire chicken coop-like structure doubles as shrine to hot sauce—just as much feels devoted towards a trip down electronic entertainment memory lane. Visitors receive a few quarters at the front door, and these unlock everything from some of the earliest arcade experiences on record to horrifying clown machines seemingly meant to haunt you in endless nightmares.

On a recent cycling trip to visit Abita Springs' more well-known export, Ars couldn't help but take a peek. The experience ended up being well-worth the price of admission, not only for the infinite number of Instagram-ables but also for some folk art philosophy. Among our favorite discoveries, the museum punctuates one of its many twists and turns with a leopard-print CD offering 250 free hours of America Online. Hanging right above it, a sign shares some wisdom only gained over time: “In the good old days I could live way beyond my means for half as much as it takes now.” (Can we bus some modern ISPs to Abita Springs soon?)