Guest Post by Fred Reed
Being as I am a self-appointed explicator of things Latin to Americans curious about what lies to the south, and has come north, I occasionally and in a scattershot and prejudiced manner try to offer a picture of life below the border. There is more to the place than narcos and MS-13. If I lived in Thailand instead of Mexico, I wouldn’t. But Latin America matters to America today as Thailand does not. So here goes.
Trigger Waning: Republicans and Nordic populations may find this column unsettling. It contains disturbing color and some of the images show signs of having escaped from an acid trip. Proceed at your own risk.
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Recently Vi and I were in Tuxtla Gutierrez, Chiapas in southern Mexico and, wandering about in a sort of Brownian motion, found ourselves walking along a canal. We discovered a region frequented by grafiteros, street artists.These view unwatched walls as canvases, legal, semi-legal or just not policed. Using spray paint, they, well, paint. I suspect that the authorities fail to get into an uproar because the results leave the precincts more attractive than would bare walls. Vandalism it isn’t.
Anyway, I decided to shoot a few of them–that is, photograph the walls, not assassinate the grafiteros–and then, ideas exploding on me, to post some of them, along with links to such things Mexican and Latin-American as struck my fancy. It will not be well organized. It will, I hope, make the point that the southlands are not, musically, artistically, or culturally, as they are thought to be by many in the United States.
Spray-painted on someone’s back wall in Chiapas. Obviously the owner of the wall is not greatly upset since (a) the painting is still there and (b) it is difficult, though not impossible, to do something so elaborate without being noticed.
In Ajijic, where I live, on a wall along the malecón, a sort of cement boardwalk by the lake.
If you want to nuke Iran, this probably won’t appeal to you. Well, unless maybe you thought of it as Iran after being nuked. I liked it. But then, I don’t want to nuke Iran.
Chiapas again. This would appear to be a kid with a rabbit, next to a purple river. Or something purple anyway. Many of these are painted by youngsters, sometimes teenagers.
Yours truly with, perhaps, the artist’s girlfriend. Slightly out of focus, but we will have to live with it. Others may disagree, but I think doing this freehand with spray paint is pretty cool.
Proof positive that Mexicans are crazy. They are also not too afraid of color, perhaps because they were never exposed to the leaden skies of Northern Europe that seem to have draped everything in earth tones.
Musically Mexico and Latin America are richly varied. Genres run from classical to Spansh rap, not as foul as American ghetto gunch but with the same rhythms. Not all Mexican music is awful banda blaring from tit bars full of drunken Marines in Tijuana. Here are a couple of things I like. They deserve better speakers than a laptop is likely to have.
Huapango, by José Pablo Moncayo. Orquesta Sinfónica Nacional, Mexico City, conducted by Alondra de la Parra.
Dnzón No. 2, by Arturo Marquez, with the Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas also under the baton of de la Parra, who gets around. She is the only conductor I have seen who actually seems happy while at it.
I’m not sure exactly what this is, but apparently it lives in trees.
Also in Ajijic, behind Farmácia Guadalajara. Paralleling Munch’s The Scream, it might well be entitled The Hangover.
This appears to be a womn contemplating the suckers on the arm of a very large octopus. It probably isn’t, though. Octopodes are rare in the mountains hereabouts.
The Camaleón, a bar in Ajijic, attracting a mixed crowd of Mexicans and gringos, running to oddballs. Are you surprised?
Los Fabulosos Cadillacs, El Matador. Actually Argentine, but I liked it so here it is anyway. Definitely not for the average banker: See trigger warning above. “Matador” north of the Rio Bravo means, reasonably enough, “bullfighter,” but the word literally means “killer,” and the song is a protest against the murder of a journalist. It is characterized by the soughing and low energy usual in Latin music.
That wraps up today’s dose of Penetrating Cultural Insight. I hope that at least will enjoy it, and feel Insighted.
It appears to me in more and more of his articles Fred “doth protest to much” about his Mexican living arrangements.
What happened to the rest of your last name?? lol
His wife read your translation and made Hans change it. El Doggy would be embarrassed. Seriously, if a man can’t be himself around his buddies…
Wow Mexico looks like a wonderful place, we should do all we can to make sure that those wonderful creative folks who live there stay there.
When you’re balls deep in Mexican pussy it can scramble your view of things.
You can tell a ghetto by the murals on the buildings. Nobody in the US gives a fuck about Mexico, except for the illegals that send money back to their beaner relatives.
Fred feels a need to justify the existence of Mexico.
Like you’ve never touted the lakes in MN. Who gives a squat about MN, do they even have a basketball team worth a shit?
EC
If you morans knew that I live near LA and watch the Lakers, you would understand that I’m joking. Go back to Mexico, morans.
MN sports teams suck by definition. It’s a rule. Except for the Twinkies in 87 & 91.
“Americans, curious about what lies to the south ……prejudiced manner…….narcos and MS-13”
…….excuse us for observing reality; and you forgot to include the decapitated heads.
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“Republicans and Nordic populations may find this column unsettling” – “If you want to nuke Iran, this probably won’t appeal to you”
Under Hillary, the US bombing campaign would have already started – she stated as much, but she is a Democrat so you give her a pass.
“This appears to be a womn contemplating the suckers on the arm of a very large octopus. It probably isn’t, though. Octopodes are rare in the mountains hereabouts.”
It’s a pregnant woman in a corn field.
It is corn mother, a native american icon from oral history.
Hey Fred, unlike all these heathens on TBP, I enjoyed your post. I’m sure the guys who cut my lawn will enjoy it too, although I’ll need to first translate it into Spanish.
Poor people and murals go together like bacon and eggs, regardless of country. You don’t see too many murals in rich neighborhoods. It’s more a matter of taste than anything.
Like tattoos. Witness the Patek Philippe ads on the back page of The Economist.
Fred Reed can suck my Nordic cock.
I feel the same way when I have to tell my compadres in Mexico that America is not all racists, rappers or altrighters rioting. There is actually something redeeming about a rusting region shithole of a place that elected Trump.
Alt righters rioting? When did that happen? Never happened, it was antifa attacking them. Tell your compadres to stay south of the border if they think we are all racists. Join them while yer at it.
I was speaking of the tiki torch brigade and used a bit of poetic license to aid alliteration as per jFish.
Look who’s Nordic, or as I like to call ’em, No’dic.
LOL. Part Irish, too. Everybody knows the Irish are hung like mules.
Based on those murals I’d say a lot of the artists are dropping the tab .
So Fred…are you saying we should swap the USA for Mexico….after all you make it sound like a great place ?
I’m disappointed there weren’t any pics of the Mrs.’s showing us her chi-chi’s .
Let’s not abuse that regional slang, it’s quite a lovely word. It’s also a nickname for Ricardo, see Cheech Marin.
If you want to be crude, use the word ‘tetas’. All the crude and suggestive tone of that is conveyed in the stage name of the veddette known as La Tetanic.
I tell the wife, I went to Chichi’s Pizza in Sta Clarita and was sorely disappointed by the elderly waitresses there. Maybe I should be thankful they weren’t topless.
“I’m not sure exactly what this is, but apparently it lives in trees.” —– article
Its a moochelli obamicus …… an ape that doesn’t do shit except steal shit from other apes.
Nope, Stucky. It’s a woolly monkey. Pretty good likeness, actually.
If mexico is so great, why dont mexicans want to stay there? Why do people walk a thousand miles through mexico to the US? Why doesnt mexicos government want their people to stay? If america sucks so bad, why wont any of the complainers leave? Why arent the exit points for the US swamped?
Marty, this is just a guess but maybe they figure if a brain-dead moran like you can make it over here, it can’t be that hard to survive here.
Agree with Dave. It is not an octopus! Tis a pregnant woman in a corn field. Corn, or maize as it were, was associated with fertility in Aztec times and before. Fred should know better. Nonetheless, there is much to admire and enjoy in Mexico…the food, the people, the culture and music mixed with tequila and beer. Viva México!
“That can’t be a pile of shite right there, cause shite doesn’t have frosting and a cherry on top! It’s chocolate, I tell you!”
It’s a veritable Paradise, Fred, I get it already.
And yet they’re here.
On spray painting every open surface of the public sphere; it’s called vandalism. If you love it so much, commission a canvas but don’t expect us subsidize it and then pretend it’s any better than what you’d get from an 8th grade art class with a semester to kill. I guess respect is one of those Nordic obsessions.
That’s why I don’t write about living in the ghetto. There are some brave souls who like to wax poetic about living off the grid or just living off the plantation, moving elsewhere; OZ or Latin America.
It may be that ex-pats are simply trying to let others know, despite the constant fear-mongering of the media, that the water is fine overseas.
But it feels safer to stay in place or, as Billy Joel sang, I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. The brainwashing is insidious, beware.
EC
Billy Joel wound up drunk and alone.
Just sayin’.
And if I want to see those colorful wall paintings on my next trip to Chupultepec that’s one thing. On the underpass outside of Nashua? Not so much, entiendes?
how do you know he woke up drunk & alone?
he & elton john have toured together multiple times–
as you know farmer,lots can happen out on the road–
I once posted one of those fake quotes: Let me write the songs and I care not who writes the laws – Lenin (or Lennon, I forget who I attributed it to.) That actually was my point about ol’ Billy Joel. Some of the dumbest ideas come from songwriters without a lick of sense, yet they influence kids for life. People go around mindlessly singing the words to a pagan oath when they are young and years later, they have so inculcated their mind, it is hard for them to change it. This is why you often hear grown men swearing that they would rather rule in hell than serve in heaven.
I only fashioned this idea today but it is my practice, it isn’t my job to show folks the menu as some folks do when they present the bible to unbelievers. All I have to do is point you to the restaurant. Whether you go in is not my concern, really, it’s not. You have free will and the ability to judge for yourself whether it is amenable to you.
If all Fred Reed wanted to do was tell us about the great aspects of Mexico, that’d be fine. I’m sure he’s right and that there are things about Mexico I might like better than here in the States. It was the condescending tone he started with that pissed me off.
“Republicans and Nordic populations may find this column unsettling. It contains disturbing color and some of the images show signs of having escaped from an acid trip. Proceed at your own risk.”
Yeah, fuck you, Reed. I like colors just fine, eat plenty of hot food have traveled to plenty of shithole countries and enjoyed myself just fine. I’ve also probably taken more acid. And I’m pretty sure I’ve climbed more radio towers on acid than he has.
Don’t assume us Nordic-Micks only eat lefse and potatoes, and I won’t assume that all Mexicans carry guns and switchblades. Some only carry switchblades.
He is not as adept at intros as Admin is, his attempt at humor managed to hit you square in the cajones. Fred’s daughter is a musician and artist, hence, his own interest in those things are reflected here.
Fred’s an old jarhead dealing with his past, probably trying to put it far behind him with his new environment and interests. That must offend quite a few knee-jerk USAUSAUSA folks and he knows it.
I imagine some limp-wristed, skinny jeans wearing patriot wants to call him a coward and traitor for leaving the USA. Still, he must have earned the right with his service, to go hide himself wherever and try to forget some of the things he did for Uncle.
I used to love those Elvis paintings on black velvet, but not as much as I loved being surrounded by four or five Mexicans dressed up in colorful Mexican suits and who played their instruments and sang those sentimental Mexican songs while staring at you like you were some ignorant fuck who was about to cough up a fiver for their extortion scheme while interrupting your enjoyment of the house’s culinary achievement that combines goat, cheese, corn, and peppers into a lead-belly of a meal that requires the wearing of pants with expandable waists. Tequila makes up for a lot, though. I wonder if the friend of Mexican illegals is now found on those velvet paintings? Barry and Mitch together on one would be priceless.
biggie, we got a summer job running a cheap motel back in the day. There was the time a trucker came in and asked if we had any 8-tracks, I said I only had Mexican (ranchera) music. He said, hand them over. In turn, I got Black Cherry and a whole bunch of cool rock music.
Another time, a dude from Georgia came in, he said he bought those things across the border in Juarez and took them back home to sell.
If it’s brown, flush it. Sorry Cleveland.
Murals could have been a lot worse.[img
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