Matt Taibbi, who joined Commodore Penn on his "rescue mission" has written a Rolling Stone article describing the mission. Of interest to me is this paragraph describing a pre-planning meeting:

(H)here we are, a bunch of half-drunk, affluent white people quaffing eleven-dollar foreign beers and planning what appears to be a paramilitary mission to rescue two cats and a maid in the wreckage of New Orleans.

I'm in the lounge of the Four Seasons with Sean Penn and other assorted media creatures, debating the merits of rescuing animals instead of humans in a disaster area. To my left is the eminent historian Douglas Brinkley, a friendly academic whose careful diction reminds me of Bob Woodward's. Brinkley is my contact in Houston. He's friends with Penn, and when he evacuated his home in New Orleans earlier in the week, he left his cats and his maid behind in the flood zone. Now he and Penn are talking about commandeering private jets, helicopters and weapons for a grand mission into hell that begins tomorrow.

Did you catch it? The absurdity so rich it is hard to fathom? Look again. It's in there. See it now?

He's friends with Penn, and when he evacuated his home in New Orleans earlier in the week, he left his cats and his maid behind in the flood zone.

Oh. My. Goodness. I guess bringing your maid along with you when you evacuate doesn't generate enough publicity. Better to leave her there, gather up some celebrities and then go back and get her.

Hat Tip: Tim Blair