Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's BĂȘte Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

The city is gone. gone gone gone. people still left. god, i hope they get out. get out alive.

Mississippi coast is gone -- the human parts of it, the people stuff. gone, gone or wrecked, almost all of it.

i cruise around my left-liberal websites, read about That Man, and how he cut FEMA, and how he cut flood prevention funding, and how he was strumming somebody's guitar yesterday, when you know any Democratic president would have been on the case --

course, 'twasn't just the Prez who blew it -- the Mayor & the Gov rolled the dice. "do we do all we can to get people out? nah -- how'd we pay for it? where would we put 'em? we'll roll the dice -- it probably won't be THAT bad."

cuz, lots of people just didn't have the cash to get out.

nightmares of people starving to death as they await evacuation.

misdirection of resources, sure, the goddamned War For an Islamic Iraq, the insane tax cuts, but. But.

this is what That Man promised us. he promised he would be the president of photo ops, the ultra-rich, and the Medievalist Christian cultists. he has not been derelict in his duty. he has done his duty. on behalf of the 20% of the country who are Medievalist Christians and the 1% super-rich, the only people he ever said he'd do a blessed thing for. the rest of us? he's been clear about this since November 2000, when he sued to prevent the counting of votes: he's not our president.

ecchhh -- hell, bitch and moan, venting at SOMEBODY, screw it, screw me, whatev, stupid, flailing, can't imagine, can't comprehend, can't apprehend, can't get it -- the destruction, the destruction, the grief and the woe.

if you got coin to throw, the Red Cross could use our help.
Something my sister said she heard on the news: a lot of people didn't leave because their government checks don't come in til after the first of the month. They literally had no money with which to leave, even if they had wanted to.

And then The Man talks about "personal responsibility" for the people still there. The only good thing about not having electricity is that they don't have to see him grinning and strutting and vomiting forth empty platitudes.

America's Second Harvest also could use coin. I wish I could do more. I'm listening to Buckwheat Zydeco. Not sure why.

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