>>>I see children on tv screaming “help us” and sad-faced news people zooming by in their vans, footage in the can. I see looped footage of looting, as if stealing t-shirts (or, stupidly, tv’s) somehow justifies the treatment of the miserable yet law-abiding masses of people waiting to die in the hot sun. People forced to push their dead grandmothers off into a corner, against a wall, so the stink of her body does not overpower those still hanging on. People who have climbed through roofs and slid through windows with jagged glass, untreated, or waded through waist high filth, to have guns drawn on them by cops threatening to shoot them for taking the only available food from stores that will never see another customer. And the many people who have waited for days for buses that did not come and who have literally dived off of the elevated highway ramps to their sacrificial death on the hard concrete below, on the altar of inhumanity, indifference, and misplaced priorities. Hard concrete. Like the hearts of those who say “we’re doing all we can” but who expect us to believe that a single gunshot warrants turning around a National Guard helicopter, thwarting these ‘heroes’ from rescuing old ladies and babies on hand-cranked life support, when their brethren face far more danger in Iraq, ducking bombs and bullets for no good reason. <<<