by Ray Jason
It was a lovely sight in a glorious setting. In one direction the primal jungle spilled down the hillsides to the sea. And in the opposite direction it swept up the mountainsides until it was replaced by evergreen forest as it neared the slumbering volcano. In the foreground a small armada of cayucos was departing the tiny village as the Indio children paddled home from school. Their joyous chatter and laughter as they propelled themselves effortlessly across the water was echoed in the sky by the wild parrots that never seem to fly without gossiping enthusiastically.
This tableau perfectly symbolized the upside-down sense of superiority that the First World lords over the Developing World. At this exact moment in thousands of towns in El Norte, the soccer moms were waiting in long lines for school to let out. They were en-bubbled in their massive, air-conditioned SUVs about to safely transport their children home. They need these steel security pods because their “advanced Civilization” has become so perverse that human predators make it dangerous for children to walk or bike to school, like I used to do.