Cross-posted from michiganliberal.com
Tonight, my head feels like it's on an endless spin cycle in a
laundromat clothes dryer. I've felt this before. On September 11, 2001, when - no matter how hard I tried - I couldn't stop thinking
about the horror of what happened and how the world I thought I knew
suddenly became a very dark place.
Tonight, people are dying of thirst on the streets of America, my home.
And I can't stop thinking about it.
I can't stop thinking about the MSNBC footage of dehydrated babies, the
motionless woman in her wheelchair with a sheet pulled over her, and
the crowd chanting into the camera: "help! help! help!" I can't stop
thinking about the utterly clueless news bunnies of Fox, and endlessly
repeating footage of black people running away with new clothes on CNN
(followed by a self-congratulatory interview with the CEO of Wal-Mart).
I can't stop thinking about the fact that as thousands perish on our
streets, all of the major networks continue to interrupt their
programming to bring us commercials for hemmeroid medications and sport
utility vehicles.
I can't stop thinking about the photo of George Bush playing a guitar
with the presidential seal on it and how Mr. Bush finally "shortened"
his vacation to deal with the situation in the Gulf. I can't stop
thinking of Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice, who decided today to
cut her vacation short (but not before
seeing a
Broadway comedy last night). I can't stop thinking about the levee
that broke - that should have been repaired last year
but
wasn't because the money had to go for Mr. Bush's personal war in
Iraq. I can't stop thinking about the troops in Iraq - who belong at
home...who REALLY belong at home. I can't stop thinking about Karl Rove
and I wonder what he's doing right now.
I can't stop thinking about the two spring break trips I once took to
New Orleans and how much I love that city - the sound of live music
mixed with the smell of chicory coffee in the thick humid air in front
of Jackson Square. I can't stop thinking of the architecture, the
statue of Louis Armstrong, and my favorite hangout at the corner of
Decatur and Esplanade. I can't stop thinking about all of the great
people I met in New Orleans while doing volunteer work there the second
time around. I can't stop thinking about where they are now and what
the city that treated me so well looks like now.
I can't stop thinking about the future - about the horrifying search
for bodies that will take place as the water slowly inches lower. I
can't stop thinking about what all of this will mean for the economy
and for vulnerable people all over America. I can't stop thinking about
what all of this will mean for the relations between black people and
white people in America and here in Michigan, the nation's most
racially segregated state. If Detroit had to be evacuated, would the
Michiganians there be welcome in Auburn Hills, Ann Arbor, East Lansing
or Grand Rapids? Is this really how things work in America in 2005?
I can't stop thinking about how utterly helpless I feel. I can't stop
thinking that it didn't have to be this way. I can't stop thinking
about how how I can't stop thinking about all of this.
Things used to be so much simpler.