The horrific devastation left in the wake of Hurricane Katrina has shown New Orleans’ true saints, and it has also revealed her veritable sphincter, i.e., the looters. What a sorry and disgusting, must-have-an-all-access-laminated-pass-in-hell-waiting-for-them, dregs-of-humanity lot these looting losers are. What a glut of soulless, pathetic hyenas this carousing compost heap is.
I’m sorry. I think I just offended all hyenas by grouping these bipod genetic glitches with our four-legged furry scavengers.
I think we’re all big boys and can understand legitimate looting when one’s entire world has just collapsed and he’s forced to survive or die—but surviving is not what these savage swamp rats are doing. No, these festering zits see this as their big chance to get a plasma TV and a Rolex—and even worse, an occasion to rape someone and get away with it.
While starving souls are helping themselves (with the legitimate consent of the National Guard and local cops) to some Progresso® Chicken Noodle Soup, Ritz Crackers, DINTY MOORE® beef stew, Evian, Similac and Wet Wipes, the looters are stocking up on CDs, Tag Heuers, 47 pairs of Nike’s, Swarovski crystal and massive amounts of Heineken. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time I checked, Bose Wave radios and tennis bracelets weren’t part of the major four food groups.
On top of all the inter-galactic, inexcusable crud going down with these thugs, we have morons on radio and TV trying to justify their decadent behavior. Just the other night I heard a minister on television say that “we cannot judge the looters” and that “we don’t how we would react if put in such a situation.” Oh yeah? Well, kum-ba-frickin’-yah!
What’s with this “we can’t judge lawless behavior” stuff? You mean to tell me that when we get slapped by Mother Nature, civility is to take a siesta and lawlessness is to become legal? Well, if that’s true you’re going to have to scrape my frontal lobe with a cement trowel, preacher man, because I think boosting stereo equipment and gutting a restaurant is BS no matter what calamity befalls us.
The major rub I have with the chaos this marauding looting mob has caused is this: the courageous work of the awesome authorities and the selfless civilians—who are doing their best to rescue the perishing—gets diverted in order to try to stop the looting that is becoming increasingly hostile.
On Wednesday the 31st Mayor Nagin was forced to redirect 1,500 police officers from saving stranded and dying people to other duties like trying to keep one dill weed from using a stolen forklift to rip storm shutters off the Macy’s department store in order to “get back at society.” That’s right. The salt-of-the-earth crew that is doling out humanitarian aid, busting their butts, risking their lives, dodging bullets from bums, fending off carjackers, collecting dead bodies and trying to reach people before they die in their attics have to first deal with idiots who see this as their chance to act out what they’ve seen on video games and MTV.
I say it’s Martial Law time. I say we get Pat Robertson to call for the-doctrine-of- assassination card to be played against the giddy, wading thugs who see this catastrophe as their window of opportunity. I say we demand—and muy pronto—massive numbers of our great armed forces to blitz the French Quarter. Their skills will put a stop to this nonsense, and it will free up the good guys so they can get back to their valiant efforts before the death toll rises into the tens of thousands and the Big Easy becomes the Big Sleazy.
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