Ashe Dambala at American Zombie has a great videologue of the Thursday's March and Rally in New Orleans, featuring blogging and non-blogging participants, At Da March. It's an amazing glimpse into the heart of the matter.
I know I promised no further updates in my last post, so I felt obliged to start anew. Many updates promised on this one, because the blogosphere (is there anyone besides me who prefers blogsphere? I mean, where did that "o" come from?) is abuzz with great coverage of the event. Most of it is very strong, some infuriating. Mo' later. Go now. Hurry. Watch Dambala's movie. Regular blogging will resume later. Peace, ya'll.
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Mo' Later: I'm writing while listening to Adrastos' Sunday Morning Video, Green Day and U2 from that dramatic moment last September, when the Superdome was reclaimed, victoriously, for football. I've made the short version of rounds in the blogosphere and, having had days to distill what happened this week, what strikes me at this moment is that the "officials" on the podium Thursday (as opposed to the "dignitaries" who spoke) were surprised, surprised by the volume of participants, surprised by the speed of their assembly and the passion of their messages, surprised by the digital age.
Bart has a very insightful post-mortem up, in which he talks about his experiences Thursday and since, reminding us to Bring The Rage. Dangerblond takes us along with her in a beautifully written narrative account of her march and rally experience (including the de-briefing and some lively discussion in the comments section).
Karen Gadbois has published the text of her impassioned remarks here. She credited the mayor as she turned his words back on him, speaking for tens of thousands when she said, "I am pissed!" Mark is talking this morning about the magic combination of real and mystical that constitute knowing we have found ourselves home, in his elegant post The Unbearable Lightness of Bienville. This, after working so well with Alan and ThinkNOLA to solidify the digital connections, enable collaboration and communication, helping to grow (in Alan's word) organically, a community that formed, spontaneously, largely in response to tragedy. I thank both Alan and Mark for all their work (they know what I'm talking about) and I thank everyone in that community profusely, for including me.
Almost lost in the ruckus this week, reported by Michael Isikoff and Mark Hosenball of Newsweek:
Jan. 11, 2007 - Sen. Joe Lieberman, the only Democrat to endorse President Bush’s new plan for Iraq, has quietly backed away from his pre-election demands that the White House turn over potentially embarrassing documents relating to its handling of the Hurricane Katrina disaster in New Orleans.
What's become apparent is that lots of folks are pissed about lots of stuff (for instance, The Capt.) and that we live in a time in which those of us who are pissed can publish it online, and gather in community with like-minded similarly-connected people so that our many voices cannot be ignored. I suspect, that from those who are seeking this land's highest office to those called to lead in every community therein, there's a lesson to be learned from what happened this week in New Orleans, when (some estimates say) 5,000 people gathered and marched, rallied and spoke, walking from disparate neighborhoods, converging, organized and promoted in no more than a few days, unified for change, unified in their desire to have a voice and have that voice heard, a lesson we, the people, teach.
It's been such a beautiful weekend, warm with a lovely spring-like moist breeze. I have felt vaguely joyful all weekend, even as I ran errands yesterday, bringing in groceries, and watched football last night, chatting online with friends. I feel, somehow, at this advanced age and precarious stage, having made a fine friendship out of what was a pretty wretched marriage, on my ass with a job I don't particularly like, somehow home, but it is not a home of place so much, but rather a home of being comfortable in my own skin, of liking the direction in which I am moving and the people, the bright spirits, who are populating the flow.
Peace, out, ya'll.
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