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Showing posts from September 7, 2005

No room at the ranchion?

From the Fabulous Frankie G., your blogstress's partner in musical crimes, comes this thought: The great state of Texas; The land of MILLIONS and MILLIONS of acres of luxury "ranchions" (ranch-mansions), and they cannot take in any more refugees from Louisiana. Perhaps they're thinking, who needs African-Americans when you've got Mexicans (who work much more cheaply)?

Family intervention

Yes, there is more going on in the world than the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, but your blogstress finds it difficult to focus on anything else, for nothing illustrates the dire straits in which the whole nation finds itself better than the administration's callous and craven response to this disaster. As the water recedes, along with the bodies of New Orleans' beloved, perhaps the American people will find themselves staring the corpse of their own republic in the face. Note to the American people: This is not your country. It belongs to to the corporations and their largest shareholders. You pay the freight for the pleasure of living under their hand. And the saddest part of all this? This is still one of the best places to live on earth. So imagine the hell lived by far too many of the earth's people, all for the beast's feeding pleasure. In today's Washington Post , we find an amazing piece by Elizabeth Williamson that tells of aid offers ignored by th