I'm feelin' pretty full-up of maudlin melancholia and bitter longing today, boys and girls, as I am prone to being every year about this time. August 29th rolls around and I get to sentimentalizing and eulogizing and it usually devolves into anger and sadness
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I FUCKING LOVE GREG PALAST. Thank you thank you. And also HOLY CHRIST I'M ALL ANGRY YET AGAIN. Goddammit.
You should really go. Give it about five years, though. It will probably take at least that long to clear out all the flipping garbage and let the rich assey white people finish building their federally-insured megacondo complexes and all.
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I guess the era of uberdevelopment happens to be a crisis all over the country, huh. Stupid rich assey white people. We need to create a special fancypants leper colony just for them. That way, they could have their very own Starbucks, Neiman Marcus and Whole Foods, and never have to leave the comfort of their own Stepford!
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It's exactly the same deal here, except we don't have any old buildings. So they're just knocking down crappy regular-people condos and building fancier new rich-people condos. Ah, the irony.
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Wow. I was brick-to-the-head-ed by your eulogy celebrating a place now gone. The way you described it made the tale snap through the computer screen.
bratenfrau, best of luck from someone you've never met.
And to the people fighting to build a new community in what was once New Orleans, good luck too.
Good luck to everyone who deserves it.
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Oh wait. We didn't. Either time. Okay. Feeling ever so marginally better now. But not really. Thanks again for that as well, Greg. Eesh.
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