Long As I Know That I'm blessed And I’m Loved In Depth

I can walk through water
and not get wet

Alright-“Here it is! Bam! And you say, Gotdam! This is a dope jam!” It’s Wednesday, a.k.a. Hump Day, a.k.a. Odin’s Day (look it up! Heathen genius digresson!) and should be known as Sonday the Sequel (with Monday being the Original Sonday. Sonny “I post on Monday and Wednesday-Lucky gets Friday”Redd.) So today you are blessed with my words.

Today, I – like every other upwardly mobile black person (who paid their cable bill) on Earth – will discuss Hurricane Katrina. Of course, Spike Lee’s “When the Levees Broke-A Requiem in Four Acts” had nothing to do with today’s topic. Because I didn’t really want to write about Juan Williams’ piece on bling in the Washington Post. Nope. Not at all. (That was foreshadowing kiddies. I’m clever that way. Here -Read this when your done here, so that I can educate on Monday – but do not opine! I swear, I will edit y’alls comments if it is about that Juan Williams piece, that you really should read – and process – so that we can discuss it, on Monday. I’m serious, man.)

So, I watched 4 hours of Katrina. I’m going to be brutally honest here. And some of y’all ain’t gonna like it. Katrina wasn’t about color. Katrina was about class. I am truly and thoroughly convinced that Katrina – and all her horribleness (except that Gretna police shit. That was some racist bullshit! Sonny “Free Huey!”Redd.)

Let’s start at the beginning.

Okay, I’ll admit I have never thought very much of New Orleans. I ain’t feeling this whole Creole shit. Let me give you a little background. See, them there Creoles in New Orleans never really considered themselves black. In fact, they tried to opt out of being black entirely. Took the case all they way to the U.S. Supreme Court in Plessy v. Ferguson.

See, your boy Plessy, a Creole, argued that he didn’t look like a nigga, and had only 1/8 Black blood (let’s do the math, he had one great grand parent who was Black. The other 7 great grands were White), so as a result he didn’t have to move from his seat on the train into the negro train car. Putting aside the fact that somebody though his ass looked Black enough to move (an obvious point), he basically wanted the government to declare that 1/8th Black (and more importantly, Creoles) wasn’t black.

He lost. And law students the world over are told about how Plessy is a Civil Rights case. Plessy wasn’t nothing but a “opt-out” case, and I point it out to show you how the game is played in Louisiana. (And this whole thing is a “Gee, I guess I really do hate Louisiana” digression.)

So the Mayor is saying “We need some God damn troops!” and the police chief is saying “They raping babies, man!” Not a good look. As Nina would say I would say, “Them niggas wet, hot, and sweaty. And that’s not ballin’ to me!”

There were 4 fundamental mistakes made in the handling of the Katrina aftermath:

1) The election of Kathleen Blanco
2) The over reliance on the Federal Government
3) The undeniable panic of the City Government
4) The scattering of the population to the four winds

First, Kathleen Blanco. This bitch played politics, and if she wins re-election (she plans to run in 2007) then the folks in Louisiana are dumber than I give them credit for being (and I give them a lot of credit.) First, she had $130 million in aid prior to the storm. That money was already there! The President (who hates black people) had authorized the funds BEFORE the storm. Not to mention, aid from neighboring states (namely New Mexico, which offered its National Guard) was either not accepted, or accepted late. Then, Bush (who I am shocked I am defending) flew down on Air Force One and offered her troops. His condition – the troops hit New Orleans first (hates black people). She rejected it. Now, I don’t claim to know much, but I’d bet that Louisiana is a lot like Florida in one (many) respect(s). Namely, that the voting pattern of its largest city often differs from the voting pattern of the rest of the state. I am inclined to belives that the bitch said – I gotta help the rest of my sate if I am to be Governor again. Further, she’s the one who declared that looters should be shot and killed. Oh, and she hates Ray “Chocolate milk city”Nagin. Somebody was playing (racial) poli-tricks, and I can’t say it was W.

Reliance of the Feds. You know, it kills me how folks over rely on the Feds. You want to know what FEMA will give me if a hurricane sweeps through South Florida? A $15,000.00 SBA loan. And the SBA is the Small Business Administration. Yep. That’s what we-you-me-all of us, are entitled to. And it’s a loan, to boot. Gotta pay that shit back. Be ready people.

Panic of Government. The Hurricane hit and everyone panicked. Generally, panic occurs only among the populace – the citizens. But here, the panic was so widespread-so complete – that the fucking police chief (a black man who I am sure considers himself Creole-or Indian-or some shit other than a nigga, cause if you ask niggas from New Orleans, there ain’t no niggas in New Orleans. Did you guys notice that New Orleans got the blackest Indians on the fucking planet? Da Hale? © Hostess 2005. Sonny “Social Commentary”Redd.) starts crying outside of the Superdome because, and I quote, “they’re raping babies in there, man!” Now, I know I ain’t from New Orleans, but if the Police Chief says that niggas in the “N-O” are so go hard that they rape infants, then I can’t say as though I’d want them crossing my bridge to my suburb either. (Fuck you anyway Gretna!).

So first we got this nigga with a badge screaming that niggas is raping babies. And he is screaming this on national fucking TV, mind you, and it’s the fucking Government’s fault that your ass is stuck in the Superdome, with the baby rapers? I think not. Your city was fucked up long before it started raining, and y’all niggas didn’t want to admit it.

What people need in an emergency is calm. I understand that folks are dying, and we need to mourn, but we mourn AFTER we save the living. Not before. We save the living and mourn for the dead. These fuckers were mourning the dead and fearing death so much that they said “fuck the living.” And Ray Nagin deserves “the credit” for that. If you can’t rally your team, how you gonna quarterback? I need a leader who is calm, so I can be calm. You panic, I’m out. (Mental note, folks this works at home too. If you fall apart every time some shit goes wrong, then folks are gonna hate having your ass around. Sonny “And now you know” Redd.)

The scattering of the citizens. Now I don’t blame the good people of(who are not niggas, cause there ain’t none in) New Orleans for leaving. Shit, I don’t even blame Barbara Bush for pointing out the obvious, “You’re out of fucking New Orleans! You are a lucky bastard!” That shit wasn’t racist, that shit was true. Barb said, “Shit, I suppose being broke in Texas beats being broke in Louisiana.” That’s shit is funny to me. And if I said, “being broke in Philly beats being broke in Miami”, its not because I hate Cubans (it’s not?)—it’s because (it’s true? No…) I rep my town. Barb reps Texas. Leave her ass alone. Shit was funny to me.

But, to rebuild New Orleans, New Orleanders need to be there. How they gonna be there if they’re in fucking Utah (that broad was living fat, but how many of y’all peeped that she’s renting –not owning- her slice of Mormon laced heaven?), again not that I blame her. But they were in such a hurry to evacuate the city (Ray Nagin) that they forgot, it’s cheaper to get niggas tents and port-a-potties. Did you see the drunk white chicks (the one that was phat to death [for a 40 year old white chick] and her mephed out friend, with their beer cozies?) how great were they?) If the people are there, they can assist in the rebuild. Trust me, the Red Cross/Salvation Army/Habitat for Humanity are bursting at the seams with weekend do-gooders who toil in offices like mine Monday-Friday and would love nothing more than to feed and clothe a negro family on the weekend (largely because then they would have something to discuss with me on Monday. “See Sonny, I’m not like George Bush, I care about black people.” (As an aside, I have been congratulated more this week for Tiger Woods’ PGA win this weekend. I’m like, “Do I look caublanasian to you, bitch?” Kidding. Actually, I love it.)

The point is, you keep those folks close to home if you hope to rebuild the city. Do the math-pay a local to clear debris. Said local invests said earning into rebuilding his home, or renting one rebuilt, said owners are encouraged to hurry along rebuilding, more locals needed to clear debris. See the cycle? Not complicated at all.

So, not to be a Negetive Nancy (or a Katty Katrina…Pun? Me? Never!) I am giving out another “Geroge” today to the unsung hero of Katrina, Lt. General Russel Honroe who held it down and showed the world all us pale negroes ain’t bitches. (Although, I will ignore for now his Creole-ness. After all, the government does. Sonny “Plessy” Redd.) Seriously, between him, Colin Powell and myself, I figure the only hope for Black people are us light skinned (we not in right now, but we making a comeback) dictatorial types. Furthermore, the lack of media coverage he recieved has renewed my faith in a media conspiracy against Black folks. God forbid we be shown doing anything other than looting. Bravo. (Although, in a bout of intellectual honesty, I am aware that his job was easier than Nagin's.)

And I am handing a Weezy to [NinaMM Motherfuckin' edit-Thanks Nina!] Phyllis Montana LeBlanc, a.k.a. the broad in the show who told how she was gonna “beat that bitch ass in the airport”. Her Weezy is for delivering the most memorable line in the whole four hours, “You know how they say ‘go back to Africa’? I’ont wanna go anywhere near Africa if it anything like this shit!” That’s right baby, that shit wasn’t ballin’ to me either.