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The best part of politics: because they're all screwing us anyway.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Just overwhelmed right now...

"Read Bob Herbert and cry," my mom said this morning as she looked through the paper.

"I already read Frank Rich and cried," I said. "Literally."

I cried for the city and the coast that didn't have to be destroyed by Katrina.

I cried for the lives lost due to the sheer fucking incompetence of this administration. This was not a matter of left or right, just sheer fucking incompetence.

I cried because a part of me had always known that Bush would leave our country vulnerable, whether to a terrorist attack or some other disaster. That was the part of me that canvassed in New Hampshire before and on Election Day, desperately trying to prevent the reelection of an incompetent, ideological, uncaring president. That was the part of me that sobbed like a baby at 3 a.m. when the networks called Ohio for Bush and I know that not only the Democrats but America had lost.

I wished like hell that Kerry or Gore were president--I knew that even the indecisive, overthinking Kerry could never have been as slow to respond to a catastrophe as Bush was. If Kerry were president, the Louisiana and Missisippi National Guard would be ready to help their home states rather than fighting an unecessary war in Iraq. And surely a Democratic Congress could not have turned such a blind eye to funding levee maintenance and hurricane preparation in the first place, an omission that was a direct result of Reagan-inspired small-government Republicanism.

But even that might not have been enough to prevent the unnecessary tragedy of Katrina.

I cried for the social inequality that allowed thousands of the underpriveleged to be left behind while their wealthier neighbors fled the storm. So much for No Child Left Behind.

I cried for the country that never cared enough about its poor to elect a government that would protect them, a government that might have sent buses or trains or planes so that no resident would be unable to follow the decree of mandatory evacuation.

I cried for the racial divide that meant that, despite decades of civil rights efforts, the residents stranded in the flooding city were mainly poor and black.

I cried for the failures on so many levels, so many more than I can list here, that led New Orleans to become the living hell it is now.

I don't know what to do anymore but cry.

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