Vote For Pedro

As a good Mexican citizen, I took advantage of the new electoral law that allows Mexicans abroad with old voter cards to vote in the next Presidential elections.  The system has improved from last time around, when instructions were so arcane, it was clear they wanted to make it as hard as possible for the millions of us who are abroad to vote. Why we can't go to our local consulates or embassies and vote is beyond me. We will probably get there in the year 3000. Yet now, after minimal bureaucracy, and with no cost to me, I got my voting package in the mail. The dilemma this time is that the three main candidates are abysmal. The fourth candidate from a newly minted party, nobody knows him from Adam, and though he looks and sounds like an egghead, he is a protege of Cruella De Vil, aka Elba Esther Gordillo, a paleolithic mafiosa who runs the 1.5 million strong teachers' union and who nobody has been able to get rid of for decades. I can't vote for him.
I did not see the presidential debate but learned that the most conspicuous feature was that the woman who was handing out the questions to the candidates (why do we need one?)  looked like the vulgar version of a Playboy bunny. Which although sad and deeply shameful, should not be surprising. The political class in Mexico continues to treat Mexicans like retarded children. They think we are a bunch of ignorant, simple minded yahoos. It has barely noticed that Mexican society has changed at a par with the new facebook/twitter world order. Hence, they show their contempt for the Mexican people by picking a bunch of mediocre, incompetent losers. Mexicans are ready for a true democracy; not so their political parties and the media monopolies that have leeched on them for ages.
Only contempt can explain why the monolithic parties vying for the Mexican presidency chose their candidates so thoughtlessly. Like we say in Spanish, de los tres no haces uno. You can't make one by putting the three together.
The most egregious one is the PRI's guy, Enrique Peña Nieto, whose claim to fame is that he was governor of the State of Mexico, where he is accused of using violence to repress protests. But he is young and telegenic and, most importantly, married to a telenovela star, which also points to his party's unholy alliance with TV giant Televisa, a blight on the Mexican nation if there ever was one. As a campaigner, Peña Nieto has been a national disgrace. Unable to speak off the cuff at the most important book fair in the Spanish speaking world, he could not recall the name of ONE favorite book of his, which promptly launched an endlessly ingenious string of sarcastic memes that are still going on. People make fun of his ignorance, his inherited inability to speak normally (if you are from the PRI, you are genetically unable to be spontaneous. You speechify at the people, not talk to them), and his mini pompadour, also known as the copete. Most recently, in a very surprising development, he visited a posh private university, which his advisers undoubtedly thought a safe place, since the juniorcitos, the hijos de papi, the fresas and pirruris (all epithets that describe spoiled rich kids) who go there have never been interested in anything but their own well being. Lo and behold, he was chased out of the campus by a vocal group of students who, like any Mexican with an ounce of sense, do not wish to see the country revert back to the PRI and its corrupt, cynical, nefarious paternalism. If he had more backbone, perhaps he could have made himself heard above the racket. He chose to flee. Mexico being the country of mistrust, the country where no one is thought to have any purity or principle, soon the PRI spun the protest into what they themselves did for 70 years, accusing the students of being planted agents of the opposition. The 131 students,  promptly created a viral video stating their names and showing their student cards to the camera to show that they were not anyone's lackeys. The most surprising, and most wonderful thing is that this happened in this fancy campus (the fancy have always voted for whoever keeps them that way, but not anymore). It is encouraging to see youth in revolt, and I certainly hope they will take this revolt to the voting booth, from which they have been traditionally absent, if anything, to show the PRI it is not wanted back. There was an impressive march of young people against the PRI, which the media was trying to downplay. The pictures point at a hell of a lot of people down Reforma Avenue.
I keep hearing Peña Nieto is ahead in the polls, but I surmise these polls are as trustworthy as a Mexican politician. After his terrible public appearances, all I hear is utter disgust with him so I wonder who in that fictitious country of polls actually likes him.
Meanwhile the PAN, which has been in power for 12 years (after 70 of the PRI's perfect dictatorship, as Mario Vargas Llosa called it), and which has fallen from the public's grace mainly because of the suicidal war on drugs waged by President Calderón, chooses a woman who was Secretary of something or other, and who lacks any credentials to be the president. Not because she is a woman, but because if she were a man, she still would lack the credentials, the personality, and the acumen. Whose puppet is she? Because of the war on drugs, Mexicans want someone who is going to give them the impression he/she is going to deal with the violence. She represents somehow the worst aspects of the PAN, which is a right-wing Catholic party with an antiquated ideology about women, gays, and the rest of the enlightened world.
The third option, which many of the intelligentsia, the young and the eternally utopian endorse, is Andrés Manuel López Obrador, better known as AMLO, who was mayor of Mexico City and who lost the last presidential election and proceeded to orchestrate a disruptive, 6 month long hissy fit that paralyzed Mexico City and made me loathe him forever (even though I was not living there at the time). Sore losers cannot possibly be good leaders. This one, the oldest of the bunch by far, is a mix between old fashioned Mexican populist politics and tired Latin American lefty demagoguery. People are afraid that he will be Hugo Chavez Jr. I simply do not trust him. I don't trust people who promise to fix absolutely every injustice. They are liars. I was hoping that the candidate of his party, the PRD, would be the competent current mayor of Mexico City, Marcelo Ebrard, but the conventional wisdom is that he may be liked in DF but cannot win in the rest of the country (which tends to hate the capital). Mexico is a country where demagogic populism has been the norm for ages, hence they chose someone who connects more with the people. Pity, because Ebrard seems capable. Maybe six years from now?
I heard the recorded greetings the candidates made for us voters abroad and none of them said anything smart or sincere, but to my surprise, the only one who spoke about the situation with a broader point of view was Peña Nieto, even if it was fed to him through a teleprompter. The other two just pandered to the Mexican migrants to the US, as if the election hinged only on the immigration problem. And Quadri, the fourth guy, was just awkward.
The Mexican paper ballot leaves an open space to scribble an alternative candidate of your choice. Rather than abstaining, which is useless unless done by a concerted and huge majority, this is the only way I see to express my discontent with the candidates. I know who I am voting for. She is a very smart woman who is not a politician, but who is always reading Mexico the riot act. The vote is secret.

p.s.: Mexicans abroad, remember to send your ballots back before June 20!

The Hyena's Laughter

I just spent 18 days in the capital of the Bolivarian Revolution, which also happens to be one of the most dangerous cities in the world. There was a huge uproar while I was there because the former Minister of Communications and current head of a government TV news channel appeared on a CNN en Español segment about the crime problem in Venezuela and he laughed about the crime statistics.
I heard reports that he had laughed, and I imagined his laughter to be more of a sarcastic, dismissive smirk, but then I saw the segment on internet.
Basically, you had to be there. It was harrowing.
Here was this dude, listening to the other talking head's laundry list of homicide statistics off camera, and you could hear him guffawing and laughing hard, as if he was listening to Don Rickles. Then they cut to him and he is literally slapping his thigh with forced, insincere, brutally mocking laughter. To add insult to injury, behind him is an oil painting of none other than Fidel Castro's mug.
Why the portrait of the head of another state? I find this even more offensive to the people of Venezuela.
When he finally could put on a straight face, the minister chose to answer with informal language that was more suited to a drunken discussion at a bar than an international news program. That the man has not been asked to resign by his boss is amazing to me, but Venezuelans just shrug it off. Never going to happen, they say.
The Fidel Castro effigy is not a coincidence. Castro is good at this kind of heavy, dripping sarcasm he has been directing at his imperialist nemesis for almost fifty years. It's the same bitterly unfunny, witless sense of humor of Maoist mock trials, as hilarious as putting dunce caps on intellectuals. It is childish, defensive, resentful and deeply patronizing. It's the cowardly behavior of a bully. Of course, the government will say that the enemies of the regime are making up the numbers. In truth, the minister's response would have been adequate if he had said exactly what he said in a dignified way. Instead, he took a tone of savage mockery and disrespect in a country where most people have lost someone they know to violence.

There is nothing I loathe more than Latin American leftist propaganda, with its worn revolutionary clichés, and its shrill, infantile, hysteric defensiveness. I fucking hate it with every fiber of my breathing being.

Smooth Criminal

This is the first time in my life I get mistaken for a criminal.  Such is life in sunny, petrified Caracas. Here's the story.
We arrive home almost at midnight to find that the electronic garage door opener of the apartment doesn't work.  Luckily, a neighbor shows up in their car, so I get out of the car to ask them if they can open the gate for us, ours is broken, yadda, yadda. They don't open their windows, and like every car in Caracas, their windows are tinted black, so I can't see them.  This is all very confusing to me.  I ask them with hand signals to roll down their windows. Nothing happens. I go back to the car and report that they won't talk to me. Not only that, they seem to be retreating. Finally, the driver rolls down his window. It's a couple in their thirties. I ask him if they can please open the gate since our thingy is broken. I tell them the apartment number where we live.  They look at me as if they were constipated and mute and I am some sort of evil alien. She is shaking her head. So I lose patience and I ask what's the problem. "The problem is we don't know you and we don't want to open the gate". But you can see that I'm not gonna mug you, I say. A middle aged goldilocks with glasses, for crying out loud.
I go back to the car, retrieve the opener and bring it so they can see it. They get really upset and start screaming at me, "You don't understand the reality of this country and you have the wrong attitude".
My appearance and my story do not reassure them in the least.
Somehow finally they open the gate. Now I realize that what I saw in their faces was naked fear. They were afraid of me. And every single thing I did, did nothing but reinforce their fears. Who knows, I could be part of an elaborate ruse to deprive them of their possessions and perhaps their lives, probably with unspeakable violence. It has happened before, with the most outlandish scenarios.
Shit is so bad in this place, people can't even trust their instincts any more.  Civility is gone.
Common sense has left the building.                        

Life's a Beach

Darlings! I can't believe it's been weeks since I've kvetched in this here space. But I am now in one of the most dangerous capitals of the world, basically crapping my pants every time I venture out. There is certainly a lot to be enjoyed in Caracas, except every time you set out to do it, you fear for your life.
The weather is magnificent. The fruit juices are sublime. The food is great. The city is in a beautiful, lush place, surrounded by the greenest tropical mountains. Magnificent Arepa got the toothache from hell, walked into a government clinic and was treated immediately and well for FREE.

And the beach is an experience.
Going to the beach here is both supremely pleasurable and not for the faint of heart. The good part is that Venezuelans, like most Latin Americans, understand that the beach is the place where everyone can feel like royalty for bubkes. There is plenty of shade, and folding beach chairs. People are super simpatico. There is a combination of good manners and street smarts that I love (compared to Mexico, people here are more equal, and treat you as such). Beer flows and so does a parade of yummy food. Delicious fried cheese empanadas, coconut sweets, wafers with both arequipe, which is like dulce de leche, AND condensed milk (and sprinkles to taste).  A tray of fresh fish arrives for inspection and selection and a couple of hours later, platters of the same arrive cooked to perfection. The water is clear and warm. Considering the crowds, the beaches are clean. Paradise.

But. Venezuelans park their cars right next to the shore, they open the backs to reveal  sound systems that rival the loudest dance clubs in the world. They proceed to crank it up to the maximum decibel level that can be tolerated by the human ear and reggaeton, with merengue and salsa thrown in, blast out from every other car. It is impossible to have a conversation without screaming at the top of your lungs. People dance. Babies dance. The dancing looks like copulation, but never mind. This is one crowd that can shake their ass. I saw a fat old guy putting together a grill and dancing at the same time.
People drink, and not just beer; also hard liquor in vastly imprudent quantities, which makes you wonder if this will be your last day on Earth as you drive back to town. The way these people drive when sober is scary enough to give anyone pause. Drunk is an entirely new plane of experience. I saw a pickup truck driver on the highway with a baby on his lap, the baby playing around with the side mirror. No seat belt.  I saw behaviors on the road that left me breathless. Aggressive passing in the no passing zone, 3 lanes where there are only two. Teenagers drinking and driving. Utter disregard for the rules. It's similar to Mexico, but I think Mexicans tend to be a bit shy of being totally suicidal. Venezuelan irresponsiblity is not fatalistic, like in Mexico, but defiant, the recklessness stridently proud. People here are oblivious to their own fragility.

Mr. Ex-Enchilada once went to a cantina in Mexico and a man gave him his wife as a gesture of friendship and welcome. Yesterday, I had a similar experience at the beach. A very drunk man came to tell me I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen (I think he was blinded by my paleness). He then offered to give me any one of his nine sons, I could pick and choose. When I respectfully declined, he called some of them, to parade them around in case I changed my mind. Three young men came by, quite good naturedly. I was amazed at how such an unattractive man could have such incredibly handsome offspring. Two of them were actually quite yummy... anyway... this guy told me he was in the army, he told me about the Bolivarian revolution, which according to him belonged to the people, not to Chavez, he expressed his absolute worship of Fidel Castro and went into a lengthy diatribe about how the US is to blame for absolutely everything that is wrong with his country. I had told him I was Mexican because, except for Arizona, being from Mexico always gets plenty of love abroad (which is not the case with being American). So I didn't think that engaging with him on a political argument was the right tack to follow. But this is where I beg to differ. The mighty machos in Latin America need to stop whining, grow a pair and stop blaming the imperialists for their own regressive, moronic penchant for chaos.

Today, I wake up to that sobering article in the New York Times about Venezuela being deadlier than Iraq. The statistics are appalling. One awful newspaper picture of bodies strewn about in the Caracas morgue did what public outrage (and anomie and cynicism) couldn't do in years. Immediately, the government ordered the press to stop publishing images of violence. Hopefully, Venezuelans have reached their tipping point. I hear Chavez has lost popularity among his loyal constituents because of this issue. He may blame the gringos for trying to discredit his regime. But people here know the truth. Everybody has a horrifying story to tell. For years, the regime has willfully ignored the rise in crime. And the worst part is that the majority of the murders happen among the poor. The Times article concentrates on Petare, which is a giant slum. The rich and middle class are victims too, but they have more resources to defend themselves. When the shit hits the fan, those who can hit Miami.
It has always been a mystery to me why Chavez, who has created a lot of positive social programs, and who is genuinely interested in improving the people's lot, has been so callous and indifferent towards the insecurity problem, which is dire. He could come up with measures to lower the ownership of guns and the homicidal mayhem in the same idiosyncratic way in which he does everything else. I think that the deliberate avoidance of this scourge (perhaps to scare the rich into fleeing, or to blame everything on them) has finally backfired. It is beyond unconscionable that it has taken the lives of over 150,000 people.
It's really a crying shame, because Caracas does have its charms.

Latin American Looney Tunes

1.
Reading the New York Times the other day, I learned that there had been an Argentina-Brazil soccer match to qualify for the World Cup. Brazil won 3-1. They had footage of the goals, so I watched. All of a sudden I see a stonefaced Diego Maradona in the sidelines. And I'm thinking, what's he doing there? Is he the official mascot of the Argentinean team? Turns out he's the coach! This to me is in a nutshell a perfect example of the utter incapacity of our Latin American countries to get with the program.
Maradona was a gifted player and an even more gifted major, world class, fuck up. Who in his right mind would think that this guy is fit to be the coach of the national soccer team? Only a people rooted in self-mythologizing, which is what our countries do best.  Getting a grip on practical matters is a different story. The result bears me out. Argentina, one of the greatest teams in the world and multiple World Champion, is apparently not going to the World Cup. Serves them right. Idiots.
2. The New York Times, instead of reporting on the increasingly scary water shortages in Mexico City, decides to do a piece on how Mexico is becoming a record holder for sundry imbecilities in the Guiness Book of World Records. They have made the biggest meatball, and the biggest torta, the most couples kissing on Valentine's Day, had the world's largest fat man (who lost 500 lbs and now wants to be the guy who lost the most weight), and the biggest cheesecake. And some genius in the article claims that Mexico wants to be "world class". Well how about instead of giant cheesecakes, start coming up with better policies, better education, a higher standard of living, and a law abiding state that is not rotten with corruption and cynicism? Geez!
3. From Mexico to poor Oliver Stone and his paean to lefty Latin American governments, his new film South of the Border. The Venezuelans who oppose Chavez are furious with Stone for rendering Chavez as a hero (which he is, let me remind you, mostly to those who happen to be piss poor, which happen to be the majority of people in Venezuela). The Chavez haters claim Stone got paid for making this piece of commie agitprop. I don't think he was paid. He has always been sympathetic to lefty causes in Latin America (remember Salvador?). His entire career is a provocation against American power and influence: Wall Street, Salvador, Born on the fourth of July, Platoon, JFK... Didn't he shoot a glowing documentary about Fidel a few years back, which by the way, no one ever saw stateside? With all due respect, people who don't like Chavez and Evo and Lula, etc, should understand that if these lefties are in power, 1) this is a direct consequence of benighted American foreign policy in the region. And 2) Stone is not being paid or coerced or brainwashed. He is entitled to his sympathies, whether one thinks they are misguided or not.

Heartsinking News

Besides everything that is going on with the economy, that is:

• Hugo Chavez gets his referendum passed whereby he is potentially on the road to becoming another insane megalomaniac, two bit dictator. I'm just hoping oil prices drop and he starts getting on the last nerve of his people. Unfortunately, the pathetic opposition doesn't have a viable contender yet.
I think Chavez has indeed done some things for the poor people of Venezuela, whether the people who hate him admit it or not. The poor adore him. The middle class hates him. There are many more poor than not, so he wins.
On the other hand, there is a lot he hasn't done, like control rampant violent crime or curb the astonishing corruption of the government. Oil money can get a lot done, but he isn't really spreading it around.
Also, looking at things in retrospect, I find it quite interesting that his government-backed spurt of antisemitism happened right before the referendum. People like him and Ahmadinejad know that, unfortunately, hating Jews it's great PR.
I hate populists.

Antisemites Bore Me

The New York Times reports today that one of the most hunted Nazi war criminals, Albert Haim, nicknamed Dr. Death for his gruesome, sadistic experiments on inmates at Matthausen, died of colon cancer a few years ago in quiet retirement in Cairo. In fact, it turns out that many Nazis sought refuge not only in South America, but also in some Arab countries.
However, Heim was captured by Americans after the war and he was released, one hopes, by mistake. He lived quietly in Germany and had a family and everything, until he had to flee. The man was a sickening sadist, and I will refrain to mention the horrible things he did, because people have a morbid fascination with abject topics like this (Nazis are always at the top of the list, after Mexican Japanese peanuts, in this blog). You can read the article here.
I went into the comments section, because it's always fun to see what comes out of the woodwork, and sure enough, among the many heartfelt expressions of outrage, there they are, the inevitable, pesky antisemites, who can't leave it alone after 5000 fucking years. You'd think they'd given up already. You'd think somebody would have realized by now that it is a futile, fruitless endeavor to hate the Jews.
But there is the classic guy who compares the Nazi Holocaust with the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, and even worse, someone offering a link to the Institute for Historical Revision, which is, you guessed it, a hateful site insisting on denying the Holocaust and other vile antisemitic drivel.
The sheer amount of energy and stupidity these people spend on spewing crap is astounding. I am almost fascinated by people who must be so mentally, morally and emotionally weak, that all that sustains them is the irrational hatred of Jews. Pathetic, annoying, utterly boring pests.
Meanwhile, the very Pope, he with the breakfast name, got into a shitstorm (and rightly so) for rehabilitating some hideous excommunicated antisemitic priests who belong to a hideous antisemitic order inside the Catholic Church (so what else is new?). Priests that hated the Second Vatican Council that sought to mend the damage done by said Church to Jews throughout history. Priests that deny the Holocaust. He claimed, are you sitting down, "compassion". All hell broke loose in his birthplace, where even Angela Merkel criticized him for siding with, plainly, the wrong guys.
And then we have Hugo Chavez, cheap imitator of cheap tyrants, allowing antisemitism to escalate in his country (fanning the flames with his irrelevant anti-Israel rhetoric), for no other reason that it gives people enough distraction to blame all that reeks on the Jews. The oldest synagogue in Caracas gets viciously vandalized, by like 15 men with firearms, and then he blames it on the opposition trying to make him look bad. Geez! Antisemitism may look like good PR to bastards like him and Ahmadinejad, but it's really not that great a strategy.
I know that Jews in Venezuela are concerned and fearful. I wish they were deeply defiant.
Fuck the antisemites.

Amiguitos again

Chavez and King Juan Carlos are chums again. All is forgotten.
I imagine the King is telling Chavez, if you ever talk to us like that again, te voy a jalar las orejas. (I'm going to yank you by the ears), a favorite threat of my mom, who was a feared disciplinarian, as opposed to Chavez's mom who apparently never told him that it is not polite to point at people.

Another Dispatch from Surrealiland

Certain things can only happen in Latin American countries. To wit:
Venezuelan TV has taken The Simpsons off the air because it considers it not suitable for children. (They were showing it in the morning, like a regular cartoon for kids). Now they are going to show it at a later time slot. Okay, so they didn't get the memo about how The Simpsons is not technically a kiddie show, although frankly, there is nothing in it that wouldn't make a kid smarter.
So what do they replace it with that is wholesome, educational and perfectly suitable for children? Baywatch. BAYWATCH.
Really, words fail me. But such is life in the tropics.

Chavez Time

One can forgive many things to Hugo Chavez, but changing the time in Venezuela for HALF AN HOUR has got to be one of those stupid dictator tricks meant for the books.
Venezuela now has a 30 minute difference with the rest of the world. If I were a citizen of that country, this would be the straw to break my back. Revolt against the revolution of the fickle, moronic, and self-aggrandizing!

Hugo Chavez Raids the Temple

My good friends at Guanabee report that the night before the Chávez referendum, the police burst into a Jewish community center in Caracas, looking for arms and explosives. As if!
I'm sure all the ammo they found was smoking hot latkes and centrifugally spinning dreidls.
Chávez is an asshole in more than one regard, and this one is one of the least endearing. His stance as the new leader of the old-school far-left propaganda does not allow him, by protocol, to like the Jews, because it is a tenet of the revolutionaries to be against the Jews, and by corollary, Israel. It's something that unfortunately has always helped the cause (fascists use it in equal measure, complaining of a Jewish Bolshevik conspiracy, so damned if you do and damned if you don't).
As I was reading the post, I scrolled down to see the comments, a strange feeling starting to flutter in the pit of my stomach. I already knew that some dumb fuck would use this inexcusable pretext to lay it on thick about the Jews and Israel and the Palestinians etc, etc. And sure enough, there it was, in all its stupidity:

Which leads me to discuss Palestine and Israel, one of my favorite international topics! So Chavez aligns himself with Iran which in turn supports Palestine… in case you didn’t know (I’m actually sure you didn’t) Israel is one of the MOST oppressive, brutal, and racist states in existence… Am I advocating random raids of Jews? Hell no, but to look at one side and pick without knowing the whole story is dangerous and DUMB (but totally American as well, I guess)! But thats all for now, I have more important battles to fight… specifically the witch hunt happening right now against Latinos in Arizona (and many, many, many other places)! Ciao!

P.S. I can’t believe how many Latinos believe the crap media! You’d think by now we’d know it to be a little suspect…

It is to the credit of Guanabee's sensible commenters that they told this moron to shut her trap. But man, one can't be having a solitary fucking latke without worrying about this kind of shit.

My favorite response was, by the way:

If the Venezuelan police are true Latinos, they probably left the wedding party with a plato wrapped in foil and a table centerpiece as well.

Just like any self-respecting Jew would do. See? We're not so different after all.

Happy Hannukah, everybody!

Zero Paranoia

We shot our commercials in a zone of Caracas that has an evil reputation. For the tech scout (the visit to the location before the shoot), we had to bring a policeman. For the shoot itself we had about four guards posted about. We closed off a couple of streets. It seemed like a very quiet lower class neighborhood. It's walls had layers and layers of paint, creating instant works of modern art. We spent a sunny day there in full view of nosy but friendly neighbors, who were very happy and curious we were shooting there. At no time did I ever feel threatened or unsafe. So our wonderful director of photography, Gonzalo Amat, and I, both natives of Mexico City, were wondering if the tales one hears about the dangers of Caracas are indeed true, or are, as is sometimes the case in the improved Mexico City crime situation, the result of social paranoia.
The Magnificent Arepa informed us that she spoke to our security guards and they told her they saw members of motorcycle gangs trying to get close to the shoot, but since they were there, they were not able to come in. Had they done so, it is agreed they would have stolen absolutely everything, including the camera. Then later we heard about a couple who left a wedding party and they were accosted by thieves trying to steal their car. They stupidly resisted and lost both their lives in the process. As the thieves couldn't abscond with the car in question, they left that one there and stole another one. Magnificent Arepa, who is a fearless traveler, said there is zero paranoia in Caracas. The fears are all well founded.
In the meantime, Chavez does lots for the poor (who live in the most dangerous neighborhoods). He gives them cheaper food and free eyeglasses, and Cuban doctors, and plenty of tired sloganeering. But he seems unwilling to change the crime situation in the city, which typically affects not the ultra wealthy, (who close off streets and hire private security) but the hard working people.

Postcards from the edge

This is a monumental ad for cotton underwear. The shirt is indeed made of fabric.

There is a kind of lefty, long-haired bohemian you see in Latin American countries selling cheap earrings and incense and Che parafernalia on the streets. They are as ubiquitous and as corny, cliched and anachronistic as any telenovela. I wonder if they are ever going to become extinct.

Saturday afternoon. The Central park of Caracas, almost entirely bereft of people. However, I'm told the government has rescued it back from rampant crime and so it is wondrous to see a couple of kids on bikes and a couple holding hands where nobody used to dare.

The Caracas Museum of Contemporary Art is open until midnight. Like all museums in Caracas it is free of charge. However, at 4 pm on a Saturday, we were the only visitors there. However, later on we saw throngs walking down the streets going to the mall.

Sunday on the Beach with Chavez

Hello, Comrades:
Dispatching here from the capital of the Bolivarian Revolution, where the incongruous rules.
Cliched slogans like "Fatherland, Socialism or Death" (it's apparently a multiple choice question) compete for your attention with ugly ads for beer, Pepsi, Avon, Smirnoff, etc. All of it is visual pollution of the worst order in a city so ugly, a monstrosity nestled in the middle of spectacular nature, I fantasize an extreme makeover for it.
Yesterday, after a grueling and exciting week of shooting my first TV commercials as a director (with the help of the Magnificent Arepa, my codirector), we packed it in and drove to the beach.
As easy breezy as this sounds, you must know that it is an adventure with the highest degree of peril. Not because of dengue fever, or malaria, but because of something even more insidious and intractable: the roads and the drivers.
1. There are no speed limits posted anywhere. This is interpreted by one and all as let's see who gets killed faster. There are drivers with cars put together with dental floss, very flimsy but nevertheless suicidal compact cars, as well as your garden variety SUV wielding asshole, truck drivers and bus drivers, all hurling themselves at one another in what can only be described as an urgent death wish. We witnessed two accidents in one day and in both not only did nobody stop to help (as people were crawling out of an upturned car through the broken windshield), but there was no police, no ambulance, no authorities in sight.
2. The roads would be a hoot if they weren't so damned dangerous. No signals, no warnings, no lights, no lanes sometimes, but yes a huge Smirnoff vodka ad right as you emerge from a tunnel in the middle of the mountains. There is a new autopista, a new six lane freeway that has not been completed yet, but even a roadblock and a huge sign saying ROAD CLOSED, does not deter the SUV wielding assholes from getting on it. I come from the Land of the Enchilada, where the absurd is king and the driving is maniacal, but this here country takes the cake.


However, if you happen to be blessed by a the protection of either fate or a higher power, once you get to the beach, then you can relax, or spend your hours thinking you better enjoy your last day on Earth, before you get killed on the way back.
This is a beautiful country, tropical and lush, and the beaches are gorgeous. They are not overdeveloped and ruined forever, as it happens where I come from, for Venezuela lives from oil and not from tourism. Thus, all tourism is local, and it is all quite rustic.
We went to a little beach called San Francisquito, about two hours from Caracas. It was packed with families. Because we are traumatized by what passes for a beach in NY state, we asked the guy who rents the chairs and the shades if there is food. "Tons of it", he replied. And sure enough, soon someone comes over with fresh red snappers to show off, and we breathe in the good sea breeze. The sea is warm and refreshing, the sun is blinding and killer, and you can't have one beer, because they don't sell them by the bottle, but by the case. When you ask to buy only two beers people look at you like you are demented.
People park their cars right next to the beach, they open the backs and they broadcast, at the highest volume possible, their choice of music, which runs the gamut from reggaeton to salsa.
This means every car is blasting something out, so there is a fierce competition for the noisiest. I fantasized blasting some Mahler, and Magnificent Arepa said that people would probably ask us to kindly turn our volume down (or lynch us for killing the mood). So the atmosphere is beyond festive, colorful and rich.
This is the Caribbean, which means body inhibitions are relatively absent. Nobody goes topless, God forbid, but they almost go bottomless. People were gawking at me, probably blinded by my preternatural whiteness or by the fact I was the only person wearing a one piece. Women wear g-strings despite the fact that most of them have what I call Arepa body (like the Mexican Tamale body, but much curvier and meatier -- huge tits, huger asses). They ooze flesh on all sides. They make the Michelin Man look svelte. They are also all tanned to a cinnamon crisp and they shake their booties to the wind, with not a care in the world.


Then the food comes: incredibly delicious fried red snapper with fresh limes. Mashed fried plantains with white cheese and ketchup (delish), and shrimp drowning in garlic and oil.
After this, going to the beach in Long Island or anywhere in the US, is safe and quiet but pathetic.

King to Chavez: Drop Dead

Who knows, maybe now all the Spaniards are personae non grata in Venezuela since King Juan Carlos I of Spain told Hugo Chavez to zip it. The circumstances are not really important. Okay: a summit of socialist-leaning Latin American countries (something that was hard to believe could actually happen not too long ago, when the continent was peppered by horrendous fascist military dictatorships; but this is in no small part thanks to the idiotic American policy in the region).
Chavez has achieved the monumental task of making the already impoverished, inane and immature political discourse in Latin America hit even lower standards with his ridiculous rhetoric (the alliteration is unintentional). I think he is a hoot, but he is certainly no laughing matter to his countrymen, who excepting the poor who adore him, just die of shame every time he opens his yap.
In this respect, he is like our own clown at the White House, fishing for sympathy among the non-articulate, fiercely proud of seeming (in the case of Chavez) or being (in the case of Bush) ignorant.
For the life of me, I don't understand how people in Latin America haven't tired yet of the stale, moldy lefty demagoguery which is as immutable as the effigy of Che on any t-shirt. The wholesale adoration of a petty bastard like Fidel and the clichéd anti-US rhetoric are so anachronistic that I wonder how people in Latin America can still swallow it without gagging. It hasn't changed since I was in college a century ago, and even then it hadn't changed since the sixties. Yawwwwwnnnnn....
As for Hugo's response to the shushing, of course he took it in the broadest possible way:
"The one who looked bad there was the one who lost control, who told us to shut up as if we were still subjects from the 17th, 18th centuries," he told reporters".
To Chavez, those "who looked bad" (as in a schoolyard brawl) were the former Colonial empire (meaning Spain), like they are sore losers for having lost the gift to the world that is Latin America. Latin America is indeed a gift to the world in terms of culture and natural riches and history, but not in terms of civic life or politics. It is rife with poverty, ignorance, injustice, and rampant corruption. Meanwhile, Spain has become a better country than it's ever been, a real democracy with an enviable standard of living (and of course, the problems endemic to all other European countries). Instead, here you have Chavez extolling horrible regimes like Iran and Cuba.
But Chavez understands the frustration his more elitist political colleagues feel when dealing with him and he plays them like a violin: he is an upstart, a scrappy soldier; yet he has been able to wreak a certain amount of interesting havoc by his cunning and his chutzpah. That's what the poor love about him: he is one of them, finally having the balls (the oil) to tell the master off, whether it's Bush or the King of Spain.

Nazis are more popular than Britney

...and than Futalognkosaurus and much more than poor King Tut. At least on the internets. I know because plenty of my darling readers seem to have a keen interest on them, which I hope is fueled by antipathy and hatred. Otherwise, we are in trouble.
In any case, what's with the dictators acting up recently? Pervez basically dissolving the constitution and behaving quite perversely. I wouldn't be surprised if he was acting on the friendly advice of our very own VEEP, (aka Satan), who may want somebody to do somewhere else what he has not been able to do here, and not for lack of trying. And Hugo, who wants to change the constitution to reelect himself over and over and over. And then Fidel, who just won't die.
Isn't dictatorship really old fashioned? Doesn't it seem utterly anachronistic for our virtual, globalized times?

The funniest thing ever in the NYT

Thanks to formerly exotically named Mimosa for sending me this item from the NY Times.

Hugo, "Fidel Jr. " Chavez, wants to enact a law whereby he limits the astounding naming capabilities of his fellow Venezuelans, who apparently take the cake when it comes to inventing the most involuntarily hilarious names for their children. To wit:

So long, Hengelberth, Maolenin, Kerbert Krishnamerk, Githanjaly, Yornaichel, Nixon and Yurbiladyberth. The prolifically inventive world of Venezuelan baby names may be coming to an end.

If electoral officials here get their way, a bill introduced last week would prohibit Venezuelan parents from bestowing those names — and many, many others — on their children.

What a bunch of killjoys. Listen to this:

The children in the Vargas family have names like Kleiderman Jesús, Yureimi Klaymar, Yusneidi Alicia, Yusmary Shuain, Kleiderson Klarth and Yusmery Sailing..

I can't stop laughing. I will attempt some etymologies:

Yornaichel I'm sure is in honor of George Michael, formerly of WHAM.
Kleiderman Jesús, which is my second favorite after his brother Kleiderson Klarth, may very well be indebted to the genius of piano muzak, Richard Clayderman. Whereas Hengelberth, probably derives from Engelbert Humperdinck, the lounge singer.
Yurdiladyberth? I have no idea.

Whimsical names can also be found in other Latin American countries. Honduras has first names like Ronald Reagan, Transfiguración and Compañía Holandesa (Dutch Company), according to the newspaper El Heraldo. In Panama, local news media this year reported name-change efforts by an Esthewoldo, a Kairovan and a Max Donald.

But Venezuela’s naming tradition rivals or exceeds that of its neighbors, many people here say. Some first names in Venezuela include Haynhect, Olmelibey, Yan Karll and Udemixon, according to a list compiled by the novelist Roberto Echeto.

Other names here easily roll off the tongue in English, like Kennedy or John Wayne, or in Russian, like Pavel or Ilich, reflecting influences from the cold war era.

“The children of my cousins are named Keiserlin, Jeiserlin, Keifel, Yurubi, Arol Kiling,” said Leidy Marrero, 29, a budget analyst.

Arol Kiling?

Some parents exercise that right more liberally than others.

Software searches of the voter registry find more than 60 people of voting age with the first name Hitler, including Hitler Adonys Rodríguez Crespo; eight Hochiminhs, among them Hochiminh Jesús Delgado Sierra; and six Eisenhowers, including Dwight Eisenhower Rojas Barboza.

I don't know about Hitler (and the parents of the poor little Hitlers, what scumbags!), but you gotta admit that Hitler Adonys has a certain charm to it.

Hugo is playing with fuego

I have put up with Hugo Chavez's many sins (except his friendship with the louse in Iran) because he cracks me up. And because he has done some stuff for the poor. However, I think now he is starting to suffer from acute megalomania, seeing probably as he does, that his pal Fidel has held on for centuries and is never going to die. Hugo has decided to start inching his country towards a dictatorship. He has the support of most of the poor, who tend to be ignorant and uneducated because the rich have made sure they stay that way. Now Chavez is talking about:

• Removing term limits for the presidency, and extending the term of office from six years to seven

• Bringing in a maximum six-hour working day

• Increasing presidential control over the central bank
• Strengthening state economic powers, allowing the government to control assets of private companies before a court grants an expropriation order.

By passing these laws through an unanimously Chavezian National Assembly and then, apparently, a referendum, he feels confident that the majority will be on his side, even though all the rich and the middle class hate his guts. The guy's term expires only in 2012, which is an eternity from now, and he is already talking about extending it. He is courting fate. If oil goes down for whatever reason, or if he keeps fucking up, people may not be as patient. There is already and will certainly be more of a flight not only of capital, but also of capable professionals, so he should take these things into account. Probably he thinks that he can get rich with oil, screw the rich and fool the poor, while he and his cronies get rich. Welcome to Latin America. Plus ça change.
I certainly hope the Venezuelan people who love him, as poor and benighted as they may be, are smart enough (and they are) to understand that giving him this unlimited power will get them a dictatorship and endless misery of a different kind. Unless he intends to extricate them from their ignorance and poverty so they can survive without a middle class or the rich, it will be a disaster.
This serves as a perfect example of why keeping the poor uneducated is ultimately a very bad idea all around the world (Mexico, take heed).
1. Because they remain eternally poor, they are the albatross around everybody's neck and resentful of the middle class. People think the poor are cheap but I think that they are very costly, not to mention unsightly.
2. Because they swallow the bullshit from a charismatic populist such as Chavez and are loyal to him forever, whether he throws the country to the dogs or not. Same almost happened with AMLO in Mexico.
With an education they simply may not be as gullible, or as poor.
So now the Venezuelan well to do are going to probably abscond to Miami with all the money and the know how and they will leave the poor to live off Chavez's demagogic largesse, which he owes entirely to oil and the gift of gab.
But you can never get news from his quarters without something hilarious, and this was no exception:
He is going to institute a 6 hour workday. This is hysterical in a country where I'm told people show up almost two hours late and they think you are batshit insane to expect an apology.
I personally know someone who had an employee who arrived two hours late and when she complained, he calmly told her she was a stuck up brat. She fired him on the spot. There was talk of an overreaction on her part. I would have gone straight for his neck, set him on fire and thrown him out the window.
I know that many Venezuelans work very hard, but come on, a six hour day? Not even the French have such gall.

The riot act

Why is it such a scandal for Barack Obama to have said that he would talk to the likes of Chavez, Fidel, that pesky louse Ahmadinejad, or any other sundry megalomaniacal lunatics? Better diplomacy than invading countries, no? I'd love to talk to all three. I'd read them all the riot act.

Looking for a subject

I spent most of the morning scanning the headlines, looking for a suitable subject to share with you, my darling readers. Couldn't find one. I don't want to talk about anything. Not about Lindsay Lohan's rehab redux, not about Hugo Chavez strongarming the soap opera and dreck purveyors in his country, not about the fact that American soldiers in Iraq are being killed by the same people they are training and they are starting to be very fed up (what's taking them so long?); not about that weird David Remnick assertion in the New Yorker that The Sopranos is a comedy. That really is news to me. I thought and hoped it is a tragedy. But maybe Remnick has seen the last episode, where Carmela and Tony live happily ever after, without punishment or legal persecution. It seems rather unlikely, no?
Not about the fact that Miss USA fell on her ass and was loudly booed by the Mexico City audience at the Miss Universe Pageant (another strong indication that there is no God, only Donald Trump). The reason for the booing: the appalling immigration debacle here in the States. The reason for falling on her ass: a perfectly good example of an apt metaphor. That's how we are these days. Falling on our ass, everybody in the world hurling scorn and derision at us (more than the usual, I mean).