It is a fucked situation down there in NO, beyond fucked. What do you even say?
I am a child of relative privilege and comfort, I'm the least qualified person ever to say a damn thing.
But I love you guys. Every second we have is goddamn precious. Things can go FUBAR instantaneously. Every second with water and power and friends is blessed.
I think we're all gonna do our little bit. Stay safe out there and stay sane out there.
Of course, this from a guy who spent the evening in his underpants and a leather jacket competing in Cagematch as part of the improv dude-legion Ching Chong Bundy. I guess I gotta agree with Julian Sanchez today:
guess I should confess, as I blithely sit here typing in the comfort of a distincly non-submerged cafe, that I actually bought a couple CDs and then callously went out for drinks with a couple friends last night. Not even some sort of charity benefit for New Orleans—just a plain old bar. Obviously, I'm hellbound.
We shouldn't be made to feel (or make ourselves feel) sick with guilt about living the life we're able to while we can. Do what you can to help, obviously, but once all that's left to do is fret and empathize with no real effect, it's over. You have a responsibility to enjoy yourself to the best of your abilities. Maybe that sounds callous but it's what I'd want if roles were reversed (I think). It's like a poem I once read in The New Yorker when I was babysitting (it wasn't my copy of The New Yorker, y'all know me better than that), which I found the full text of here. Money quote: We must admit there will be music despite everything. But read the whole thing.
On the night of the day I die, you should be blind-drunk, listening to loud music, and fucking someone pretty, and that's an order.
Posted by DC at September 2, 2005 02:10 AM