Hispanic Fanatic

There are no rapists in Texas.

We know this is true because last year, soon after the Lone Star State passed its wildly misogynistic anti-abortion ban, its governor said the law didn’t need an exemption for rape victims, because he was going to eliminate that crime in Texas.

However, the ensuing months have shown that this master plan has worked about as well you would have expected. Which is to say, it hasn’t worked at all.

Of course, such idiotic, outlandish, and flat-out insane statements from Republican officials are not surprising. On the contrary, for GOP leadership, they appear to be required.

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Love is in the air. Or maybe it’s desperation. Who can tell anymore?

In any case, this week was Valentine’s Day, and happy couples snuggled on dates, unhappy couples forced displays of intimacy, and single people either ignored the holiday or shrieked that they hate everyone who has ever been in a relationship anywhere at any time.

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Nominations for the Academy Awards were announced this week. I live in Los Angeles, so this event is all-encompassing. You can be walking down the street, and strangers will rush up to argue with you about best documentary short.

In any case, Don’t Look Up got four nominations, including best picture. That’s quite a bit of love for a movie described as “shrill,” “smug,” “bombastic,” and “propaganda.”

Damn—regardless of whether you loved or hated Don’t Look Up, it is obviously the most culturally relevant mainstream film of the year. You can tell a lot about Americans by asking them if they liked this movie.

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With the country going to hell, nobody would get judgmental if you wanted to take the edge off. Maybe it’s a beer after work, or a quick hit on the bong, or a couple of happy pills. Regardless of the specific drug you prefer, the fact is that humans like to get buzzed, and almost every culture has a method of altering our consciousness. 

But like most aspects of contemporary life, racial and class differences are prevalent in this most basic of activities. For example, both the government and big businesses have a growing interest in the pharmaceutical, medical, and psychological benefits of psychedelics. Apparently, eating shrooms and dropping ecstasy can be good for you, at least under the right circumstances.

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You can blame that son of bitch Martin Van Buren. 

Yes, I’m sure we all harbor animosity for America’s eighth president—right? The guy had few achievements, but one goal he accomplished still lingers, to the point of festering. Van Buren’s “longest-lasting contribution has been the two-party political system.”

So the fact that you have just two choices for president? Yeah, that’s old Marty’s doing.

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They’re coming for you. 

OK, I don’t know exactly who “they” are, but trust me, if you are a Republican, you’re next.

Yes, the “ludicrous idea that conservatives are particularly oppressed has been a theme of right-wing activism at large throughout the Trump era.” And we have now reached the logical conclusion of a political movement based upon fictional persecution, which is that “all of American life is a woke hellscape” that true patriots must vanquish.

For example, if a thuggish teenager murders a couple of leftists in the street, he becomes an “avatar of this imagined oppression for the next generation of conservatives,” who are outraged that “the system dared put him on trial for it.” Similarly, lunatics who stormed the capitol are the real victims of the January 6 riot, because some of them might miss their Caribbean vacations.

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What would you give for an extra year of life?

Most of us would sacrifice a fair amount for that luxury. Everyone is on limited time, after all, and we likely want as many days on Earth as we can get.

However, if you are Latino, you are not in a position to angle for additional time. Hell, you’re lucky to be alive enough to read this.

Yes, in addition to the fact that we perpetually lag behind other groups when it comes to mortality, there is the disturbing truth that COVID-19 hit Latinos harder than other demographics. And just how devastating was the pandemic to Hispanics?

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For the foreseeable future, whenever January arrives and people say, “Happy New Year,” we will pause and think, “Damn, it’s almost the anniversary of that fucking insurrection, isn’t it?”

Yes it is.

Of course, first anniversaries are the most intense. One solid year since you got married, or started a job, or became a pescatarian, or—as in this case—since a mob of racist, overly entitled, right-wing zealots stormed the capitol in a bloody caterwauling that has now been revealed to be an incompetent coup attempt.

Happy anniversary indeed.

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Maybe you’re overjoyed that you survived the holidays.

Perhaps you’re looking forward to the new year, and you’re optimistic that 2022 will deliver on the potential that 2021 just didn’t deliver.

Or maybe you appreciate any excuse to drink at midnight.

In any case, this time of the year is notoriously slow for writers of political commentary. Plus, I recently had my third eye surgery in the last decade, and everything looks a bit fuzzy right now.

So when you add it all up, I have very little drive to write anything more insightful than “Happy New Year” and to wish you the best.

Take care, and see you in 2022.

Our self-identity forms our core.

For example, you might consider yourself to be a radical vegan who aligns herself with the needy.

Perhaps you’re a high-powered corporate exec whose net worth and golf handicap are numbers that measure your very existence.

Or you could be a Gen X Latino progressive who loves Korean horror movies and has a thing for Kate Winslet.

Yeah, maybe.

But one thing is highly likely: You see your “political affiliation not as a choice but as an identity; that is, something not subject to change with time.”

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