Tuesday, January 12, 2010


I am back from Mexico City. All kind of bilious and yellowed mucous is frothing in my unhappy throat, and Montezuma has taken his revenge on me in spades. I started getting sick after I ate a hamburguesa at Burger King (I know, nothing else was open, OK?) called "El Furioso". Yeah, I know.

Maybe it wasn't the food that did it though? Maybe it was the thought of that meal after a day where I safely toured where The Other Half lives, amid dirt floors, stray animals, corrugated tin roofs and an absence of clean drinking water. Perversely, I laughed, both at my own decadence and self-loathing/self-pity. It didn't, and to a certain extent still doesn't, feel real.

Yeah, when it hits you, you will know. Until then...

Affinities: HEALTH - Get Color, Zola Jesus - The Spoils, Birdflesh - The Farmers Wrath, 3 Inches of Blood - Battlecry Under a Winter Sun, Young Widows - Old Wounds, The XX - XX, Wire - Pink Flag, Fever Ray - S/T, Final Fantasy - He Poos Clouds


  1. Bits of Tangier did that to me. And Cairo. But not enough. I didn't learn my lesson.

  2. Not like it's easy or anything. I still feel weird at the thought of it: like those people's poverty was there for my bourgeois enjoyment. I can always retreat back to the comfort of Canada, and these people are literally up against the wall, living in settlements that will likely collapse and kill them in the event of the mildest seismic activity. Now how in the hell am I suppose to relate to that?