It's Not Just You, Mark
I found this nice article on Slate about the socioeconomic factors behind the scenes of Hurricane Katrina (yes, the same ones being debated with this douche here.) The author gets distracted a bit about baseball there in the middle, but his overall point is a valid and important one. It's not just about this particular situation, but the lack of mention of race and class in the media overall.
My parents were just in Biloxi weekend before last, and I would have been in New Orleans this coming weekend had I been able to afford a plane ticket. I've wanted to visit there for some time, but now I guess it will not be a trip I take any time soon. I guess the fascination with the city came as a result of both the Anne Rice books, and especially The Witching Hour as well as A Confederacy of Dunces more recently. Perhaps I'll read what has often been described as the quintessential New Orleans book, Walker Percy's The Moviegoer instead of visiting. Also, the director of A Day in the Life that I made with Jud in Detroit in 2003 lives in New Orleans, after graduating from Tulane last year. He's the only person I know who's there, and I confirmed that he got out safe, though all his stuff was most definitely lost.
Speaking of books, (and I know this is getting off the serious topic of the post) I am about done with Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 and I love it. I had always been told to avoid Pynchon, but I really enjoy his style. Sometimes it can be a bit hard to read, but I find that if I just detach a little bit and read without thinking that the stream of consciousness flows right from the page into my brain. I have had Gravity's Rainbow sitting on my shelf for a year or so I think, waiting til I gathered the courage to read it, but now that I have a much shorter Pynchon novel under my belt, I will not be so afraid. After that, I might even try Ulysses or Watt. This weekend, I will not undertake these literary monstrosities, though. I plan on enjoying the three day weekend, upstate reading something fun, like more Vonnegut, The Traveler, or Neverwhere.
I just took an "anonymous" picture of my ass to send to Kristin for her bachelorette party (well, to send to Sarah.) She gets to mach butts with faces and see how well she really knows her male friends.
My parents were just in Biloxi weekend before last, and I would have been in New Orleans this coming weekend had I been able to afford a plane ticket. I've wanted to visit there for some time, but now I guess it will not be a trip I take any time soon. I guess the fascination with the city came as a result of both the Anne Rice books, and especially The Witching Hour as well as A Confederacy of Dunces more recently. Perhaps I'll read what has often been described as the quintessential New Orleans book, Walker Percy's The Moviegoer instead of visiting. Also, the director of A Day in the Life that I made with Jud in Detroit in 2003 lives in New Orleans, after graduating from Tulane last year. He's the only person I know who's there, and I confirmed that he got out safe, though all his stuff was most definitely lost.
Speaking of books, (and I know this is getting off the serious topic of the post) I am about done with Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 and I love it. I had always been told to avoid Pynchon, but I really enjoy his style. Sometimes it can be a bit hard to read, but I find that if I just detach a little bit and read without thinking that the stream of consciousness flows right from the page into my brain. I have had Gravity's Rainbow sitting on my shelf for a year or so I think, waiting til I gathered the courage to read it, but now that I have a much shorter Pynchon novel under my belt, I will not be so afraid. After that, I might even try Ulysses or Watt. This weekend, I will not undertake these literary monstrosities, though. I plan on enjoying the three day weekend, upstate reading something fun, like more Vonnegut, The Traveler, or Neverwhere.
I just took an "anonymous" picture of my ass to send to Kristin for her bachelorette party (well, to send to Sarah.) She gets to mach butts with faces and see how well she really knows her male friends.