Maxim

At the gym in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

A flyer has been put announcing their masseuse is moving to the "Riviera Maya." Someone has hand written a correction, scrawling in pencil, "Mayan Riviera." Book a session with her now before she’s gone! says the flyer.

Below there’s a picture of a fit woman on the beach looking out onto the sea, her back to us. She's not wearing a top; she is ostensibly the masseuse leaving the gym. Another woman, more dressed, plumper, ostensibly Mexican, brushes the sand off her lower body.

Maxim promotes people who pay to have their asses wiped

Mexicanos Unidos

Mexicans: tall, short, lanky, bearded, dark, blond, squat, skinny, wavy, pudgy, fit. How many times have i gotten the "you're Mexican?" Mostly it comes from people who have a notion of what Mexicans look like from the Mexicans they encounter--in New York, they're from Puebla, so they have a certain set of characteristics they've maintained from their indigenous ancestors. Yet the Homies, a Northern California pop-cultural creation based on Mexican stereotypes (or should i say archetypes?) , look generally pretty different than the people of Puebla.

Class divisions are strong in Mexico. In the US we have the luxury of forgetting this, realizing it's a much more powerful tool to unite with all Mexicanos--and Central and Latin Americans, and the oppressed black populations, and the Hmong people of Northern California, and hell, why not even some disenfranchised white folks while we're at it? But in Mexico, it's back to that old racist shit: the lighter one is, the more likely it is you're simply not living in poverty. Just look at the soap operas.

This Is How One Half Lives

While the dutiful Sebastian Zargossa happily went about his work, bringing new friends into the fold, his alter ego Nigel K-FKA was in the bay-area, forcing observations from the other side, with that other half we must acknowledge, often live with, and especially, love. Here are some of Nigel's notes:

they(/we?) roil through life. roily f-ing polys. One big diahrrhea. a big burst PPPPHHHLLLLLaaaaaUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrrrrrrtt in the middle:

http://www.fuh2.com/

they(/we?)speakEnglishgotocollegegetjobsStartpredatorylendingcompaniesthatkeep la gente del otro lado livingonthissideinpoverty,oppressionDriveBMWs...
and then its over: sss$$$ching. Retirement and Dia de los Muertos, if they(/we?) are lucky enough to be remembered.

award$$recogni$hn$ex
http://www.zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?SectionID=10&ItemID=11328

So: rat-race-brown flushed-down into the neat sewer pipes of silicon valley
http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0691118469/ref=sib_dp_pt/104-9762342-7143945#reader-link

BUT! the blood comes through the pipes again: they(/we?) have children. and the children: beautiful brown, but what color's their blood?
hint:the color of their parents blue Hummer.
Martines, Rodriguess,. Box-checkers indeed, all of them, but how do they vote, and why are they racist.
who$ fault i$ it?
http://www.pocho.com/news/2000/gpbushexperiment/gpbushX080100.html
*********

Nigel also told of a dream where he and Seb are at the top of a giant bunk-bed party with about 15 other people. The bed falls 80 stories and crushes all of their cameras.
The outcome of the dream/what we can learn from it: 1) Nigel and Seb are completely unharmed 2) falling those 80 stories was quite fun 3) the girl throwing the party had insurance.