I’ve been operating under a weird haze of rage for the last few days.
It started when I read about how funding for flood management and levee construction had been slashed in the past few years, and how advice from experts has been steadily ignored for even longer. (This is not a bash on the Bush administration, by the way—Clinton was just as guilty of ignoring sound advice about development on flood plains and not funding flood management research adequately.)
It escalated when I read that big chunks of the National Guard are in Iraq, instead of back home.
It shot through the fucking roof when I realized that help was going to be a long time a-coming for the people hit hard by Katrina, especially the residents of New Orleans, and that the authorities were trying to spin everything to a fare-thee-well so they don’t look like quite the incompetent, brain-dead fuckasses that they are. Then I read about how a guy who should’ve hailed as a motherfucking hero was instead called an “extreme looter.” (What, does he snowboard, eat Doritos AND drink Mountain Dew on top of stealing an unused bus to ferry over a hundred people to safety?) And then I read this bit here on Daily Kos (link courtesy of Kate Rothwell):
It goes to show how overwhelming things are here right now that I encountered the First Lady yesterday and I almost forgot to put it in this e-mail. It actually couldn’t have been a worse experience; a team of us were working to put up a website with directions to every Red Cross shelter in the region when we were evicted from the computer room by the Secret Service. There’s only one room in the Cajundome with telephones and internet access for refugees, and Laura Bush shut it down for eight hours (along with the food service rooms to the side and the women’s showers). You may have seen it on CNN; apparently seven refugees were allowed back so Laura could help them in front of the cameras.
Add to that an article about how food sat undistributed all fucking day because of Bush’s visit to New Orleans, plus assorted comments from assorted people on assorted blogs about how it’s the residents’ own damn fault for not evacuating and/or for being poor, and I can’t concentrate on anything right now. My husband has had to listen to me ranting and raving all day. I suspect the poor darling has resorted to drink to drown out the sound of my dulcet voice.
Regular programming should resume tomorrow.
Edited to add:
The state Homeland Security Department had requested—and continues to request—that the American Red Cross not come back into New Orleans following the hurricane. Our presence would keep people from evacuating and encourage others to come into the city.
Our presence would keep people from evacuating and encourage others to come into the city.
That popping sound you heard? Was the sweet symphony of several blood vessels exploding in my head.