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August 31st, 2005


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02:01 am - this ain't no disco
"I'll eat roaches and drink the funky Quarter sludge in the gutters of Bourbon Street long before I abandon my city."
interdictor is an employee of directNIC, a company based out of New Orleans. He is holed out in one of the highrises now (the 10th and 11th floors of 650 Poydras) and is working with a skeleton crew to keep a data center up and online and safe.

I can't figure out if this is amazing, insane, both, or some other word that hasn't been invented yet.

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Comments:


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From:lindito
Date:August 31st, 2005 07:19 am (UTC)

you know...

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"I'll eat roaches and drink the funky Quarter sludge in the gutters of Bourbon Street long before I abandon my city."

he may not know it, but he essentially described why the insurgency in iraq isn't going to end anytime soon.

(he makes references to our troops over there in his blog.)
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From:redtheblue
Date:August 31st, 2005 09:25 am (UTC)
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directNIC: Beyond Superdome. But I understand the sentiment. I can get crazy hardcore about work. I've also worked through lunch and eaten vending machine sandwiches; there's cockroaches in those. But to do what he's doing I'd need way better survival skills and a Xanax the size of my head. Another complication: I promised myself I'd never shit in a coffee can for my job. That still stands. Hell, I'm out on the first airboat, slappy.
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From:androidqueen
Date:August 31st, 2005 10:46 am (UTC)
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frankly, the word is idiotic. the day you put your city and your job before your safety and the safety of others is the day you need to reprioritize.
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From:kizlj
Date:August 31st, 2005 01:17 pm (UTC)
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he's having fun. I checked out the journal -- he's an ex-military survival nut who sounds not unhappy to finally experience something akin to the fall of civilization and have a chance to show off superiority to all the non-survivalist sorts daft enough to not have guns at the ready. sigh.

I mean, not to minimize what must be a sucky, sucky situation. but still.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:August 31st, 2005 03:26 pm (UTC)
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No kidding. I had a look too - the guy is a wannabe G. Gordon Liddy. I loved the touching anecdote about how he bonded with his best friend back in first grade by bullying the other kids in their class, hitting them in the head with blunt objects and such.
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From:adamcadre
Date:August 31st, 2005 03:27 pm (UTC)
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Whoops - looks like I wasn't logged in when I posted that.
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From:derspatchel
Date:August 31st, 2005 04:29 pm (UTC)
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His current descent into the "Someone's gotta keep order, and that someone may very well be me" mindset is getting unsettling, but no less fascinating to read.
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From:asd109
Date:August 31st, 2005 06:41 pm (UTC)
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Especially on the heels of "everyone who can get out should" in which "everyone" apparantly means everyone but him.
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From:hemlock_martini
Date:August 31st, 2005 01:33 pm (UTC)
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I can understand the mentality, and after all he's in a high-rise--hope the AC's still working.

What I don't get are the "Jesus will provide, unless it's my time to go, so I'm going to sleep on the second floor tonight" people. If it's your time to go, that's fine--but if "going" means "being dragged underwater screaming," which is probably one of the least pleasant ways to die that don't involve actual torture; I wouldn't be so damned blase about it.
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From:redtheblue
Date:August 31st, 2005 08:33 pm (UTC)
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The Lord works in fucked up ways, brother Hemlock.
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From:hemlock_martini
Date:August 31st, 2005 08:34 pm (UTC)
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Sometimes that's the only satisfactory answer, yes.
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From:derspatchel
Date:August 31st, 2005 10:00 pm (UTC)
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Old joke time!

As rising floodwaters threatened Bill's home, he stoically packed up his necessities and sat comfortably on the front porch. Eventually two guys in a little inflatable raft came by and beckoned him over.

"No thanks," Bill said. "I have faith in the Lord. The Lord will deliver me from danger. But thank you for the offer!" The inflatable raft shoved off and headed on down the waterlogged street.

Later on, the waters rose up past the first floor so Bill calmly retreated to the second floor, and watched the debris float by from his second story window. A rescue boat spotted him and pulled alongside, ready to escort him to safety.

"No thank you," Bill said again. "I've got faith in the Lord, and I will surely be delivered from a watery grave." Shrugging, the boat's pilot left him inside.

Once the waters reached the roofline, Bill climbed out onto the roof and sat by the chimney, still as placid as ever. When the rescue helicopter approached and dropped a ladder, Bill smiled and waved it along.

"It's okay!" Bill hollered. "Really! The Lord will save me! I have faith in the Lord!" The pilot shrugged (as much as one can be seen shrugging from a helicopter) and flew away.

A little while later, the waters rose over even the chimney, and poor Bill drowned. And wasn't he upset.

He was still upset when he made it to Heaven, and, in his pique, he marched right up to the throne of God and demanded an audience.

"Hey, God!" Bill said. "What's the big idea? I believed in you! I had faith that you were going to save me, and you left me to drown! You did nothing!"

"NOTHING?!" God said, furrowing an omniscient brow. Bill crossed his arms and nodded defiantly. God leaned over and tapped Bill on the chest.

"WHAT DO YOU CALL THOSE TWO BOATS AND THAT HELICOPTER?"

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