Hurricane Gustav is bringing home more than threatening weather to New Orleans; it is bringing home an enormous super-cell of bad experiences and memories. Almost three years ago to date, the cosmic-tantrum-b*tch Katrina did her worst.  But the ghost of Katrina apparently seeks to revisit and supplement her assault.  True, New Orleans has always had strong ties to her ghost stories.

At the time of Katrina and the inconcievable aftermath, I felt it hard to talk much about the wicked impact; it was so hard to bear.  But now, I feel enough time has passed to speak frankly. It is probably the right thing for us all to do; as it may assist in improvements in our contemporary catastrophe preparedness programs.

Look, let’s get this straight; I don’t like George Bush.  I do feel some pity for the man. But, for example, I’m convinced he is the closeted homosexual lover of Mexico’s past and current President. And the submissive partner in the relationship at that. These sweethearts have clearly made some secret lover’s pacts to cherish each other and surrender unto each other till death.  Screw that.  Our relationship to Mexican government is QUE-ER.

So anyway, I don’t like Bush.  I just don’t hate him. OK? So I’m not defending him, but it was nuts how much of the nation and world condemned him for Katrina.  Now FEMA did a lousy job, and in a realm that was in fact their job.  But truthfully, Bill Clinton deserves as much “credit”, as does George Bush’s father, for turning FEMA’s leadership positions into cushy patronage jobs.  And hang on, the folks in New Orleans re-elected their Ray Nagan, so they don’t get to pretend to be smart, or genuinely in favor of useful government.  He did a damn terrible job and it was definately his job – before, during and after the hurricane.  And the same assessment applies to the then sitting governor, Ms. Blanco. 

I had a German woman explain to me one breakfast, how the majority of Germans and the world blamed George Bush for the disaster of Katrina.  What horsesh*t.  George Bush has nothing to do with the weather.  He never did and he never ever will.  And George Bush has very little responsibility in establishing state and local preparedness programs.  That’s not what we elect presidents to do.  It is not his job.  It would be a grave error to make it his job.  While George Bush could have and should have positioned and utilized the National Guard, he is not entitled to do so until authorized by the local governments involved.  Once the catastrophe struck, it was FEMA that made numerous profound and pathetic mistakes.  But what does Bush do at that point, fire the leadership, in the middle of the crisis?  Would that help, or contribute further to the chaos? While he can collect no accolades whatsoever for the situation, and suffered accordingly, pinning all responsibilities on him is a joke.

The lingering memory that blew my mind though; that I will never forget (along with many other dramatic memories); was actually the days leading up to the hurricane’s arrival.  We all knew it was coming; the experts repeated the refrain for days. But in the streets, the reporters would put their microphones in front of the happy-go-lucky denizens of jazz town, who would explain with a laugh that, “Hell no, we’re not leaving.”  Then they would give a thumbs-up, or some other dopey symbol of contempt for danger.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, it has been said; perhaps Katrina felt scorned.  The hubris of those who intended to “party through it” was mind-boggling.

I explained to my German friend at that breakfast, who it is that I believe ultimately deserves responsibility for the difficulties of the catastrophe.  I made this analogy:

Say there is a grand and excellent party going on in the penthouse of a high-rise, but the building manager knocks on the door and explains there will likely be a fire in five days.  The party animal answering the door explains, “well come back in four days, dude; you’re killing our buzz” and shuts the door.  On the next day the manager returns and explains the fire exists on a lower level and is heading slowly upwards, and the partygoers should leave.  The drunken man answering the door this time responds with a laughing explanation that their “mojo” is perfect, and “the cosmos think they rock; and there’s no way our penthouse can get any hotter than it already is… dude!”.  Once again they slam the door.  The next two days - the same sort of thing.  On the fifth day, the management knocks on the door and explains the fire is huge, it is right beneath them, and it is critical they take action.  The partygoers explain that “every year they say the same thing.  There’s no way they’re leaving the excellent party, and there’s no way that God’s gonna harm people who have such as excellent understanding of what fun is, and what life is for… Later panic-man”.  That night the penthouse erupts in flames.  The partygoers escape in chaos to the roof.  There they linger; screaming, begging for help.  The flames make it difficult for helicopters and the necessary equipment to reach them.  The situation is treacherous and complex, and not easily resolved.  Eventually on a following sunrise, the partygoers are rescued to the ground, much the worse for their experience.  Upon arrival, many microphones appear to capture the story of their experience. The one-time partiers erupt in tears; “where was the assistance?  Why was there’s no one to help us?  Where are the people who are supposed to save us? Why were we left to die? How can the people of the nation be so heartlessly unavailable for them?”

Many have learned from their lesson for certain.  This time around, the evacuation is enormous and well attended both voluntarily and by law. Even so, many fools remain behind.  New Orleans is below sea level.  It will always be below sea level, unless something really huge is undertaken.  This fact alone practically defines how people there should respond to significant threatening weather patterns.  It is ultimately about them, it is not about government.  Does that sound callous?  It isn’t meant to; it’s meant to be real and free of bullsh*t.

…By the way, I have come to believe (through the course of fascination with metaphysical realms and simultaneous thirst for science), that Nature hates superstition. “Mojo” will never be very useful in combating natural phenomena.  If there is one man with a gun (developed through scientific understanding of the laws of physics), and another man with a “magic feather” (that he fully believes makes him invisible to the bullets of the other unholy man) –  Nature will allow the second man to drop dead with a bullet hole, right then and there.  Nature hates superstition.  Nature gave birth to science.  Science is the beloved child of nature.  Superstition is the deformed child of man.  An awful lot of people in pre-Katrina New Orleans seemed to bank on their superior understandings of something resembling superstition and its practices.  What reckless folly.