New Orleans uber alles
Last night I enjoyed a night picnic with my hosts. We crossed a tangle of railroad tracks and the remains of a chainlink fence to dine at the point where the mississippi meets the canal, not far from where this very same canal burst open and thrashed this city. Passing ships the height of skyscrapers motored past. There was distant lightning in the sky and a constant humid wind that stank of the river. A good earthy smell, with just a whif of petroleum on top. Here on the banks of the mississippi Gillian finally told me her story of being kidnapped in Palestine. She tells it like a sarcastic comedy. Although it's impossible that she had time to develop Stockholm Syndrome, she sympathized with her kidnappers anyway, a down-on-his-luck man in need of a job and medical attention, and his accomplices, a family who plied her with tea. After being "rescued" by the Palestinian Authority they kept the whole thing quiet, resulting in newspaper non-stories like this. There is no doubt that powerful forces are capitalizing on the disaster to remake the city to their imagination. Much of the public infrastructure, from hospitals to housing projects, which wasn't actually damaged during Katrina, remains closed as a return disincentive to those who might rely on these services. I'm mostly informed by my host Djen, an old friend, lifelong activist, and Louisiana native. Our talk revolves around hydrology and health care (or lack). Many buildings are tagged up with a half dozen colors of government graffiti. The house next door to Djen's (which is occupied) screams "TRAPPED DOG" and a bunch of other less legible emergency hieroglyphs. There is way too much to talk about this city, and I feel unqualified anyway. Here is a video of something you can stumble across any tuesday night. Another tangent, in case you aren't already familiar with Sissy Bounce, the tranny thug booty rap genre, you should be. Begin your education with Katey Red.