When I read this, my stomach tightened and churned:
Those dead still lie among us. In New Orleans, no one is a stranger. We have all encountered one another in one way or another, for good or ill.
Now we find ourselves preparing for revelations to come that imply that some of those we had expected would look out for us were rather out to injure us. There can be no reasons that can justify or clarify whatever it was that swept over and took hold of those who took to murder, terrorism, and cover-up in the aftermath of the storm. Rather, there will be more years ahead of us for us to try to comprehend and rectify what went so horribly wrong in this hot, damp city during those days.
None of this is meant to indict the writer of that post. It is merely my own response to a common-enough moment of bland thoughtlessness. Certainly, the photographer was aware of what he was shooting. He titled his comprehensive work, In Katrina's Wake: Portraits of Loss from an Unnatural Disaster; and his photographs are beautiful, but beautiful in the context of terribilitas.
That is a far different thing than being pleasing to the eye.