In an open letter to Spike Lee,

“Watching your documentary about Hurricane Katrina has ruined my end-of-the-world, time-travel, Lyndon-Johnson-and-I-are-the-only-people-left-together-in-an-empty-airport scene that I like to imagine when I want to go to sleep. Now, sometimes when I try to conjure my very special, yet strangely chaste, LBJ lullaby, a good percentage of the time, I can only see the human suffering that occurred in the Superdome. I’m glad I watched the documentary, but now what am I supposed to do when I want to drift quickly into the embrace of slumber?”

 

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