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.