I have tried to shuddup about George W Bush with the eternal hope that he’ll just go the hell away.

For the most part, it’s been working.

But dammit, he went to New Orleans to celebrate Katrina.

That’s like killing somebody and then showing up at their funeral with a plate of muffins and a nice potato salad.

Two thousand people died.  Doctors and nurses were deserted in the New Orleans parish hospital with sick people and no electricity, food, or water.  The horror of that place still keeps me up at night.

But, hell, let’s celebrate!

I was on the other end.  I volunteered to help when people arrived from New Orleans with only the sweaty clothes on their backs.  Houston took them in.  I held the hand of an 83 year old woman who had been separated from the rest of her family.  She didn’t know if they were dead or alive.  She didn’t know if they were in Houston or Raton Rouge.  She thought her husband had died in New Orleans but she didn’t know for sure; maybe he was just lost.  Mostly she was worried about her granddaughter with asthma.  She asked me to pray with her.  Her prayer was that the Lord take her home, to his house.

George W Bush can go to hell.

Jeb Bush is running a TV ad touting his ability to handle hurricanes.  The ad features him standing next to Mike Brown, aka Helluva job, Brownie.  Holy cow.

I apologize for the rant but Lord help me, I hate that man.  I hate him.  I saw what he did to people.  I saw what he did to this country.  I just hate him.