I’ll admit that just doing normal things seems wrong lately. While I know intellectually that it does no one any good to walk around my life like a morose zombie, I still feel guilty. Doing the celebratory podcast yesterday made me feel quite a bit better, and the more I thought about New Orleans stories the more I can think of. In keeping with the spirit of the city, I’ll try to do as much remembrance of joy for New Orleans as possible and keep the tears to a minimum
And just for a downer link and a refutation of some bullshit of what it was like in the cluster fuck of the horrible week in the drowned city, here is a first hand account of life in flood I found from Doc Searls. As you read this, remember that it was written by trained EMTs, people who were about as prepared as anyone could be for life in a disaster. Even with that, they were lied to, had guns pointed at them by law enforcement and guardsmen, went hungry and when they did get food had it confiscated by a sheriff. Their summation:
Throughout, the official relief effort was callous, inept, and racist. There was more suffering than need be. Lives were lost that did not need to be lost.