What an Arm and a Leg Buys You

by on Apr.12, 2008, under Media

Last week, scientists announced that they had finally cracked an Aztec math code. It took the researchers 30 years of work to decipher what the ancient inhabitants of Mexico meant when they wrote equations with symbols of hearts and arms and arrows. Apparently, it was an elaborate setup for a dirty joke involving a high priestess named Txchotl…actually, it wasn’t, but wouldn’t that have been cool?

No, the Aztecs had the same concerns as everybody else. They kept financial records to make sure nobody was ripping them off. The coded entries referred to land transactions, tax assessments, and the like.

It’s discombobulating  to realize that, hundreds of years ago, these fierce warriors took breaks from pillaging villages and throwing virgins into volcanoes to handle the red tape of government bureaucracy. The Aztec version of the IRS must have been murder.

However, the mundane solution to the mysterious code doesn’t address a larger question. Namely, why would academic researchers spend decades trying to figure out what long-dead Latinos had recorded?

Perhaps it is because the Aztecs, along with the Incas and the Mayans, continue to tantalize the imagination, centuries after their extinction. They remain the Big Three of original Hispanic culture.

I’ll talk more about the reasons for this fascination in later posts. I’m just pleased we finally know that, according the Aztecs, a bone equals one-fifth of a rod… and suddenly we’ve lapsed back into that vulgar joke.

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But Enough About You

by on Apr.10, 2008, under Random

In the interest of maintaining a connection with readers of this blog (or at the very least, creating the illusion of one), I’m posting my responses to one of those cheesy “getting to know you” mass emails that inundate our inboxes. Despite my disdain for such chain-letter methods of communication, perhaps there are a few insights to be gleaned from my answers these queries. I’m supplying just a few choice responses:

3. What did you have for breakfast?

A power bar

6. Any piercings?

One

7. Eye color:

Latino brown

8. Place of birth:

New York City. Although I am proud to be a Midwest guy, part of me will always consider NYC a sort of spiritual home. And it has the best pizza in the world.

9. Favorite food:

Pizza. See above.

12. What is your favorite CD at the moment?

This implies that I still listen to CDs, rather than furiously downloading stray songs from my youth off the internet. I am building massive playlist upon playlist, stuffed with one-hit wonders and obscure tunes that let me know that Gen X still breathes.

14. What kind of car do you drive?

A 10-year-old economy model that is, even as I type this, plotting a new hemorrhage or dropping a vital component or sighing into general obsolescence.

16. Ever been to Africa?

Not yet

17. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?

Italy

20. Favorite brand of clothing?

Have we become so consumerist that we identify with the companies behind our cheap jeans and our tattered jackets and our t-shirts baring ironic slogans, all in the vain hope that it says something about us? Sorry, but I don’t even know who makes my shoes.

21. Where would you like to retire?

Santa Barbara, California

22. Favorite time of day?

8:58 pm, but I don’t know why.

24. Favorite sport to watch?

Baseball

25. What fabric detergent do you use?

Once again, who has such immutable brand loyalty that they have a favorite detergent? That’s just obsessive-compulsive.

26. What characteristic do you despise?

Irresponsibility, which can take several forms. Basically, do what you say you’re going to do. I’m especially pissed if I’m the irresponsible one.

28. Ever been toilet papering?

Yes

30. Been in a car accident?

Four times, including recently. Although only one was my fault, and that was twenty years ago. Really, you can look it up.

33. Favorite restaurant:

Imperial Pizza in Manhattan.

37. Favorite drink:

Wine, which may be a bourgeois answer, but there it is. For the record, I’m also quite fond of beer, so don’t revoke my common-man cred just yet.

42. Which store would you max out your credit card?

The consumerist orientation of this chain-mail continues unabated.

43 What do you most often when you are bored?

I have not been bored since 1985, and I have no plans to ever be bored again.

44. Bedtime:

Between 10 pm and 2 am.

47. Favorite TV show:

Twin Peaks. This was easily the greatest show in the history of television, even though it ran for only thirty episodes. It was just too beautiful to live, I guess.

48. Last person you went out to dinner with:

My lovely and patient wife.

50. What are you listening to right now?

The hum of the computer, which is a cross between a soothing drone and an angry buzz. Either way, the haunting sound has something profound to do with my mortality.

51. What is your favorite color?

Arterial-blood red

52. Lake, ocean or river?

Lake

53. How many tattoos do you have?

One

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Fender Bender

by on Apr.08, 2008, under Race

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve been dealing with car problems as of late. In short, my decade-old deathtrap is finally headed for the scrap heap. What was the final blow? What incident pushed the aging metal and chrome over the edge and into oblivion? I can’t be sure, but I think getting sideswiped a few weeks ago finished the car off.

I always did have a bad feeling about that one particular intersection. It may be hyperbole to call it the most dangerous stretch of asphalt in my city, but it always made me nervous.

I drive through it on my commute home from work, and whenever I got past it safely, I gave a prayer of thanks to my Mayan ancestors… ok, that part really is hyperbole.

Nevertheless, it’s a precarious crossroads. And the other evening, my paranoia justified itself (as it often does) when some dickhead plowed into my car as I was driving through the intersection.

I had the right of way when the guy in the minivan tried to turn left in front of me. He succeeded only in whapping the side of my car.

I was, to put it delicately, fucking pissed. I motioned for him to pull over, and he nodded and turned as if to go around the block and circle back. Five minutes later, two things became simultaneously clear: He wasn’t returning, and this was a hit-and-run.

My only witness was a dyslexic good Samaritan, a woman who claimed to have noted the guy’s license plate but had jotted down four digits too many. So I just drove home in my dinged car. When I told my wife that the guy had panicked and driven off, she said, “Maybe you scared him when you got angry.”

I hadn’t considered that. Here was this frazzled Anglo in a minivan who had broadsided an obviously furious Hispanic. For all he knew, I was going to get out of my car and knife him. Perhaps he thought I was riding dirty (Latino variation), or maybe he figured I was a Hmong gang member because you never can tell the differences among all those dark people, especially at night. The funny thing is that I was probably more Italian at the moment, with the wild hand gestures and agitated facial contortions.

In any case, I have to wonder if he would have pulled over and exchanged insurance information if I had been blonde.

But why do I have to even consider these things? It’s not enough that he jacked up my rates and took off. It’s not sufficient that he put the kibosh on my car. Now I have to ponder whether or not I’ve been stereotyped and slurred. This is the way your mind works when you’re not in the majority, whether you want it to or not.

Either way, I can’t prove a thing. My only satisfaction is that I know his car was more damaged than mine was. His headlight popped off, after all.

So I imagine him speeding home to the suburbs with one beam flickering, his mind racing to get his story straight for when his wife asks what the hell happened to the minivan. I can only assume that he will wipe the cold sweat from his brow, embrace his wife in sweet relief, and say, “I had to run away, honey. The guy was Hispanic or something.”

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I Have Not Been to the Mountain

by on Apr.05, 2008, under Race

Yesterday marked the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King. Media coverage of the event featured numerous “what if he had lived” scenarios, ignoring the fact that so many racists had the man marked for death that he had about as much chance of getting out of the 1960s alive as I do of walking my dog in the Mariana Trench.

King set such high standards of spiritual clarity, personal courage, and captivating intelligence that even white supremacists had to admit their theories of racial inferiority had a glaring exception. How else could a Klansman explain this guy?

Hispanics, of course, don’t have a King equivalent. When cultural leaders are listed, we usually get Cesar Chavez. It sounds like he was a great leader and principled individual, but let’s be blunt. Chavez simply does not have the moral authority or historical impact of Martin Luther King. Maybe it’s an unfair comparison, but one was a Nobel Prize winner who gave one of the most stirring speeches in history, inspired millions of people to action, revolutionized American culture, was martyred for his cause, and got an official holiday named for him. The other won marginal rights for people who pick lettuce. Both have streets named for them in many cities, although in most cases, these roads pass through shady parts of town and change names back once they leave the hood or barrio.

To be fair, there is no Martin Luther King of the gay-rights movement either, or an Asian American of such stature, or so on. King was the pinnacle of social leaders.

And now, perhaps we are past the point in American history where any one person can become a powerful symbol and instigator of change. We’re too entrenched or cynical or hyperinformed to yank people onto a pedestal and leave them be.

But just in case we aren’t, is it too much to ask that the next icon be Hispanic? 

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The Critics Rave

by on Apr.03, 2008, under Politics

As promised, I will now respond to the comments for my post from a few days ago, which addressed illegal immigration. Charles had some sympathetic words for the undocumented, while Rogerg believed illegal aliens hurt American workers.

But it was Zeezil who really went to town on this subject. In fact, I suspect that s/he has cut and pasted this rant many times across the internet, because I refuse to believe this particular manifesto was typed up exclusively for the Fanatic.

In any case, Zeezil’s dizzying array of stats, quotes, and accusations are simply too numerous to analyze on a point-by-point basis. If you like, see his book-length comment for yourself. I will react to only a select few of Zeezil’s ideas that captured my attention.

S/he is correct that it is not inherently “racist, bigoted or xenophobic” to want to stem the tide of illegal immigration. No doubt, most of the advocates for a closed-door policy have none of these toxic attributes. People who do have these traits, of course, have an easy straw man in the illegal immigrant, but that is beside the point.

So we’ll give Zeezil that fairly non-controversial point. But I was struck by his/her exclamation that “illegal aliens, their facilitators and benefactors” are the true bigots. I don’t know what definition of “racist” Zeezil is using, but it’s bizarre to claim that anyone who proposes a path to citizenship for an illegal is being xenophobic. If so, it is the best reverse psychology ever. Similarly mystifying is the assertion that “political power is the real reason” some people are less inclined to kick out every undocumented worker. I find it hard to imagine a less influential political force than a ragtag coalition of bleeding-heart liberals and poverty-stricken individuals who can’t even vote. This is not exactly a major lobbying force.

In addition, Zeezil refers to the “children of illegals” costing us a lot of money. Regardless of whether or not this is true, we must parse that phrase for its more complicated meaning. The “children of illegals” can, in many cases, be called something else: citizens. This is because, of course, anyone born in the United States is automatically a citizen, regardless of parentage. There are movements underway to change this, and I’ll have something to say about that in a future post. But for the foreseeable future, it is the law of the land, enshrined in the U.S. Constitution, no less.

Speaking of kids, Zeezil also brings up the tragedy in Minnesota, where an illegal immigrant crashed into a school bus and killed several children. This is undeniably horrifying. It is, however, also irrelevant to the main debate, unless no children have ever died in car accidents caused by U.S. citizens.

This anecdotal evidence, along with a casual mixing of percentage and whole-number stats (apples to oranges, as it were) is designed to show that illegals are to blame for, well, just about everything. This demonization is part of the problem I bemoaned in my original post.

The funny thing is that I’m not violently opposed to some of Zeezil’s points. I say as much in my initial post that immigration is a brutally complex problem that defies easy solution, and we will likely have to adopt a mixture of conservative and liberal ideas to resolve it. However, fear-mongering and questionable evidence are not going to help the situation. So I hope we can move the debate to a higher, more logic-based level.

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To Be Continued

by on Apr.01, 2008, under Politics

I’ve gotten a number of responses to my previous post, which was about the immigration problem. While I would love to attack or congratulate each person who commented, I can’t squeeze in the time right now. You see, I’m having that most American of crises (car trouble) and have to concentrate on maintaining the wheels. Let me point out, however, that Ruben Navarrette has just written about the contradictions inherent in any discussion about illegal immigration. His points will have to suffice until I can devote the attention that the subject deserves. So stay tuned, because I’ll post a reply this week (and I’ll later post about my damn car… really, it’s kind of a funny story and it all relates).

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Immigrant Song

by on Mar.29, 2008, under Politics

Here’s an update on my last post. This Marine finally got his citizenship, and just days after I wrote about it. I assume that the timing is not a coincidence. Well, CNN’s coverage may have helped too…

Anyway, since I started writing about immigration, I might as well go all out today. I figure, hey, why not talk it? After all, this barely examined topic has never been the subject of much discussion. So I guess it’s up to me. Here goes:

When it comes to immigration, I’m for it.

That simple sentence is adequate to provoke death threats in certain parts of the country, and I could just leave my thoughts at that. However, I have a reason for taunting a squadron of Minutemen vigilantes to show up at my front door.

No, it’s not that we’re going to solve the immigration problem within the confines of this blog (although that would be most cool). Rather, I’m hoping for basic acknowledgement of the complexity of this issue, which I admit might be a bit much to ask in a political atmosphere where everybody is either a gun-toting racist or a freeloading parasite, according to whom you listen to.

As I understand it, people who take a hard line claim that illegal immigration is unfair to those who applied legally. Now, I’m sure that it’s frustrating on the principle of the thing, but has anyone ever been denied citizenship because a Mexican got here first?

I’ve also heard that that undocumented workers cost taxpayers too much and drive up crime.  But in actuality, many studies say these workers have a net positive impact on the economy, and I’ve never seen a convincing statistic on skyrocketing crime rates among illegals that wasn’t eventually refuted on Snopes.com.

Finally, we’ve heard that a path to citizenship for undocumented workers only encourages others to come here illegally, or that such an approach is amnesty. But my understanding is that amnesty means a clean slate; every proposal I’ve seen involves paying a hefty fine. And do these individuals really need any more encouragement? They’re already leaving their families, ditching their homeland, and risking death for a shot at a job at Wal-Mart.

Again, people who are concerned about illegal immigration are not all redneck jingoists. No doubt, most are sincere and principled individuals.

But a Hispanic has to ask, would some of these people feel as passionately about this issue if the undocumented were illegal whites? And then there is the hypocrisy of those well-off Americans who advocate for the removal of every illegal. They must recognize that these same workers “make their masters-of-the-universe lifestyles possible” (in the words of Mike Davis in his book City of Quartz).

To be fair, people who push for a more open immigration policy have their own issues to confront. While it’s true that we can’t deport every undocumented worker, does this logically follow that we just stop trying to police the border? And while it’s also true that undocumented workers tend to do jobs other Americans won’t take, are they driving down wages and therefore, undercutting a decent wage for citizens?

We’ve heard that it would be an economic disaster to kick out every illegal, and that the cultural impact of recent immigrants is vital. Yes, but does that mean we just let in anyone at any time?

You see the contradictions and issues between these polarizing stances. But few people can even acknowledge that this bedevils simplistic answers. Perhaps it’s because, as so many have noted, illegal immigrants are a very effective boogyman, especially in an election year. Maybe accepting the fact that no solution is perfect, and none is likely to be implemented any time soon, is the first step toward resolving this mess.

I’ll be upfront about my bias. I was fortunate enough to be born in America. This is not an accomplishment, which is what too many people think. Rather, it is just good luck.

Like many Americans, I have relatives who emigrated here within the past generation. Most of them came here legally. Some of them did not. In subsequent posts, I’ll talk more about them and how they have contributed to this country.

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Are They American Enough?

by on Mar.28, 2008, under War

As pointed out here, the first U.S. service member killed in the Iraq War was an immigrant from Guatemala.

The Marine profiled in this news story is from my mother’s home country of El Salvador, and he is not a U.S. citizen.

There are more than 20,000 “green-card warriors” in the U.S. military, and many of them are getting shot at in the Middle East. They fight under the U.S. flag, even as millions of citizens back home debate the best way to kick them out of the country.

It may surprise some people that non-citizens are allowed to fight in the U.S. military. But we have always embraced immigrants when they are convenient – when they can mow the lawn or take care of the babies or step up to be cannon fodder. After they have served their purpose, we give long speeches about how the sanctity of the nation demands that they be banished, and quickly before they take over.

Now, should a non-citizen die in combat, he or she receives automatic (albeit posthumous) citizenship. This has happened several times during this war. Nobody has protested this policy, because of course, a deceased Mexican-American will never move in next door to citizens and make them nervous. It seems to be our country’s way of saying, “Some of you have to die before we’ll agree that you’re fit to live among us. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Personally, I think anybody willing to face death in the service of America should get immediate citizenship upon induction, no paperwork needed. I have other ideas about the citizenship process, but that will have to wait for a future post.

Also, at some point I will go into detail about my personal stake in this story: My cousin was on his second deployment to Iraq before his citizenship papers came through. Again, I’ll talk more about him and his adventures in a future post.

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Latino of the Month

by on Mar.27, 2008, under Politics

Here at The Hispanic Fanatic, we are positively giddy. Actually, there is no “we,” just me, but it sounds more impressive if I make the following idea seem like the product of a select committee of experts.

The occasion is the inaugural Latino of the Month award. It’s the first one because, well, I’ve only been blogging for a month. With hope, I can identify one Hispanic in April and every four weeks thereafter who does something notable, laudatory, or even notorious to merit this prestigious honor.

So who is the charter recipient of this exclusive prize, which carries no monetary value, offers no plaque, and does not even have an award ceremony covered by the E Network?

It is none other than former New Mexico governor Bill Richardson.

I’ve always liked this guy, if for no other reason than he was the first legitimate Hispanic contender for president. He dropped out of the race early, of course, because his intelligence and experience can’t make up for the fact that he has all the warmth and charisma of day-old flan. Those superficialities aside, he would have made a good president.

He earns the Latino of the Month award because his endorsement of Barack Obama garnered national attention, shook up the presidential race, and pissed off a lot of people. That’s a lot of impact for one Hispanic to have.

It’s not about the specificity of his praise for Obama. It’s because, regardless of your political affiliation, one has to admire Richardson for his willingness to take a definitive and principled stance. I’ll also add that he refused to get embroiled in petty name-calling with people who accused him of being disloyal to the Clintons (statements that had the vague stench of white people getting pissed at a Latino for not doing what he was told).

No, he did his own thing. Didn’t I say he would make a good president?

But alas, he has to settle for the next-best thing: the first Latino of the Month award. So he has that going for him.

By the way, if you have any nominees for April’s award, let me know.

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But What If They're Ordering Burritos?

by on Mar.25, 2008, under Politics

Often, people will stop me on the street and ask, “Hey, Hispanic Fanatic, what is the role of government regulation when it comes to preventing racial discrimination versus abridging an individual’s First Amendment rights?”

I can’t tell you how many times this has come up.

Fortunately, we now have a precedent to clarify matters. To recap, a restaurant in Philadelphia recently posted a sign inside that read, “This is America: When ordering, please speak English.”

Well, at least they said please.

The city’s Commission on Human Relations ruled that the restaurant’s sign did not intimidate or discriminate against people who didn’t speak English.

What should we make of this? The sign is clearly a response to the restaurant owner’s irritation with the recent influx of Hispanic and Asian immigrants into his neighborhood. There is no doubt that he is being, to put it mildly, a jerk for demanding that people conform to his comfort level.

At first glance, this seems as straightforward as the infamous Wetback Wednesday incident that I blogged about recently.

There are some differences, however. The restaurant’s sign is not an overt insult like the one at the bar in Pittsburgh (by the way, what is it with Pennsylvania?). Also, this case has the government getting involved, while the Pittsburgh dust-up had no such factor.

So as much as I think the restaurant is vile for attempting to bully its customers, I have to admit that they have a right to do so. As long as they are not refusing service or actively threatening people (and there is no evidence that the management ever did), they can proclaim whatever preference or agenda on their own property that they like. Having bureaucrats tell people what they can and can’t post in their own business is beyond chilling, and I would even support those jerks in Pittsburgh if the government intervened.

So the First Amendment wins again. Although it would be nice if people, especially business owners in a position of power, realized that having the legal right to state something doesn’t give you a pass on decency or common sense. In essence, it doesn’t mean that it’s ok to be a dick. And that’s true in any language.

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