It was the best of times. It was the worst of times . . . wait that's not right.

It was the worst of times, and it just kept getting worse . . . Yeah, that's better.

Hurricane Katrina blew into the Gulf of Mexico a couple of weeks ago, and when it hit the coast it raged like no storm the folks of Louisiana and Mississippi had experienced in ages. And then in New Orleans, the hundred plus year-old levee system began to crumble, and the city was doomed.

We've all seen the images on TV, the Internet, and in the newspapers of the stranded people, the evacuees, and most horribly, the dead. And when we see those types of images, it triggers a primal response for compassion in us; a feeling that prods us to act, and we take action in the form of donating goods, volunteering at shelters, or by opening our homes to those in need.

Destruction and death often give rise to the best in humans, not only in the US, but around the world, as we see our fellow man sacrifice and work to remedy all sorts of ills in times of emergency. It's in these times that we are really the people we'd like to be; when we see each other not as members of one race or another, not as worshipers of one god or another, not as groups divided by class, not as opponents on opposite sides of a political fence, but simply as fellow creatures at the mercy of nature. And despite the surrounding carnage, it is truly a beautiful thing to see.

Unfortunately, the worst in humans never passes up an opportunity to rear its ugly head either, and these last couple of weeks were no exception.

I sat in tears watching people in a hospital in New Orleans being denied oxygen if they were unable to say their names, because evacuation and medical supply helicopters were taking on sniper fire, and were unable to remove patients and deliver much needed supplies. SNIPER FIRE!!

What the fuck is that all about?

Who are the assholes that got together and decided a city underwater and over 700 dead was exciting, but by golly if we add a little gun play to the scenario, then YEEHAW, it's goddamn party? Who are these pricks who can deny a sick person passage to a working medical facility simply to puff up their chests in front of some other pricks for a little while?

People were dying and being covered up with sheets or pieces of newspaper and cardboard right where they lay in the convention center, and the police took on gunfire trying to go in to restore order. What level of stupid does one need to reach to think it's a good idea to fire at police who are there to help? What alien form of hubris was loosed on those assholes? How many people died because they wouldn't allow authorities in until SWAT teams and the National Guard showed up?

In addition to that, all sorts of items were looted from homes, stores, and public buildings. Searching for water and food and dry clothing in a time of crisis as severe as in New Orleans is understandable. It may after all, be a matter of survival, and as such, it's understandable. But I saw video of people carting stereo equipment, laptop computers, expensive sneakers, and every other non-essential under the sun down the street, loading more stuff on as they went. And then, they had the audacity to complain when a cop leveled a shotgun at them and told them to drop the goods. One guy had the nerve to say the police were racially driven after he had been relieved of an armload of sports jerseys.

Look I don't care what race you are. I don't care how hard of a life you've had. I don't care what failings society has visited upon you. I don't care that the circumstances were so unusual. There are no excuses for that type of behavior. Period. If you're looting, you are a piece of shit criminal and nothing else. And those officers should have taken their rifle butts to your black, white, yellow, or brown face.

Of course, the sound of cracking skulls would have been drowned out by the incessant whining of the survivors.

Now before you go ape shit and try to tear me a new one for saying that, let me just add something: It's clear that the responsible government agencies at all levels failed miserably after the storm. In a country that is supposed to be as great as the US, the monumental inadequacies of the various emergency organizations was shocking. No one is disputing that. And let me also say that I understand many of the survivors were in very bad shape, some actually near death, many needing help sooner than they could get it. But there were thousands more, in perfectly fine shape, who took to the TV cameras at every opportunity to complain and make it known that they weren't getting what they believed they deserved.

You might say, "Well, you weren't there. You don't know what it was like,"

That's true. I wasn't there, and I don't know exactly what it was like. But I do know that it takes energy to follow a news crew around all day waiting to get on camera, and that it's counter-productive to sit around on your ass. Why not use that energy to comfort the old man who's dying on the sidewalk, or to find water for those thirsty children? Why not use that energy to organize your shelter, so that when help does arrive, it can be disbursed in an efficient manner? Why not use that energy to find a way to get the hell out of there for chrissake?

In bad times, we don't have to be the damsel in the prison tower, waiting for a knight to come along. We can get up and do something. What ever happened to hard work and ingenuity? Are those concepts no longer viable in America?

I don't know anymore.

George Bush, however, seems to think they are. The only problem is, he may have furthered the problem of lethargy when he addressed the nation from New Orleans on September 15th.

He promised a new New Orleans. He avowed that no one could imagine an America without the city of New Orleans as part of it. He outlined several plans that sounded exactly like what the Gulf coast needs, but he may have simply served to bolster a false sense of hope in the people of Louisiana and Mississippi.

Immediately after the address, one of the news channels interviewed some evacuees in Houston who had listened to the speech and who all seemed ready to head back home right then, as though there would be a brand new, golden city just waiting for them.

First of all, no one is sure where the 200 billion dollars to implement the programs Bush mentioned is going to come from, and whether or not they are even feasible. But when you're stranded in a place far from home, you may not take that into consideration. You may simply allow the good feelings of hope to drive you instead. And I suppose that's okay, if merely taken as a brief repose from your current worries. But weren't those the same people whose hopes were dashed only days before when government programs failed? Are they going to be let down yet again by institutions that have vowed to help them and then can't?

Second, if the president's plan is put into action, it's going to take a lot of work. Let me see if I can emphasize the important word in that sentence:

"If the president's plan is put into action, it's going to take a lot of {*>"WORK"<*}."

The folks holed up in the Astrodome and the other shelters around the country have to understand that the president can't wave a magic wand to rebuild New Orleans. It's going to take more sacrifice, extended determination, and heaps of cooperation.

Sure, it can be done, but let's all be aware of what it's going to take, and save the whining and complaining for better days, like when they forget to give you a piece of cornbread with your beans and rice.

Folks I apologize for the lack of jokes in this roast, but I hope the "ridiculousness" factor of the storm's aftermath can make up for it. We have to laugh at that. Otherwise there's nothing left to do but cry.