In the midst of moving house, and very near deadlines, I felt somewhat compelled to write something of the disaster Katrina, even though the lack of time and internet at home has left me with only the knowledge of what I've gained from glimpses at evening tv news.

Mulch highlights:
"I remember the somberness of 9/11. I remember people putting aside differences. I remember the National Gard arriving in New York the day of the attacks. That has all changed now. While I admit that racism surely played a part in the inaction our federal government used to murder those by apathy, I think it is more indicative of class and poverty. The World Trade towers were the rich and powerful. Those left to suffer the aftermath of Katerina were not. They were those too poor or too weak to flee. They were those who had nothing else but what they had there in their homes, most without vehicles to flee with."

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's win's ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Fact: It took 2 days for Tsunami relief efforts to arrive in Indonesia. It took FIVE for any sign of help to arrive in New Orleans.

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

Fact: Stupid people say stupid things. Welcome to the Britney Spears club, Barbara Bush.
"And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this... this is working very well for them."

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld.

An indecisive woman governor offers only her tears on national tv while 20-year old Jabbar has nicked a school bus and ferried as many people as those wheels would carry out of disaster.

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

- Robert Burns (To a Mouse)

A helpless President offers congratulations to other people who have also offered comforting words. So this post I suppose is for the unsung heroes who had some sort of clue as to what to do.

"In the chaos that was Causeway Boulevard, this group of refugees stood out: a 6-year-old boy walking down the road, holding a 5-month-old, surrounded by five toddlers who followed him around as if he were their leader. They were holding hands. Three of the children were about 2 years old, and one was wearing only diapers. A 3-year-old girl, who wore colorful barrettes on the ends of her braids, had her 14-month-old brother in tow. The 6-year-old spoke for all of them, and he told rescuers his name was Deamonte Love."