Oct. 7th, 2010

purejuice: (macondo)
Here is the deal with Macondo.

I arise and read this story, which has a six column headline at the top of the page of the Macondo Manana [TILDE!!!!]:

Mystery Firm Based in N.M.: Security Contractor Ordered Out of Afghanistan )

Given the presence of Los Alamos, and the nukes "hidden" inside the Manzano Mountains, White Sands Missile Range, Kirtland Air Force Base, the Large Array Telescope (don't tell me it's not a spy rig), and the weird pride Burque feels at being Ground Zero (are you joking? the WTC put the lie to that), the presence of 12th-rate Beltway Banditti like the Four Horsemen, which seems to be based in Roswell, NM, the center and omphalos of all UFO conspiracy theories, does not surprise me. There is a sense that out here, far away from streetlights, you can do anything you want to. See the stars. See stars. Whatevs.

The thing about Macondo is all of that, ie., buccaneer schemes to rip the Indians off of their DNA/plutonium, or designate entire hospitals/medical institutions as single carrier health insurance gulags, or to sell all the water rights of the Rio Grande to Texas, such that you don't own the rain water which falls on your roof, is contrasted, in a magical realist way, with 1500 year old urbanities and arts.

The copy shop didn't take plastic for the $4 fee I ran up yesterday, so they said, Oh, you'll come back, we trust you.

On my way over there this morning with the $4, the latest evidence. A big old white SUV with KCOE CHANNEL 13 emblazoned on the side in red letters two feet high.

At the Great Metropolitan Daily, they got rid of company cars with GREAT METROPOLITAN DAILY emblazoned on the side nearly 50 years ago. During the MLK Jr. assassination riots. When such vehicles were stoned, if not capsized, by rioters.

It's just so bush league, and also suicidal, as well as so Not Kansas any more. There are no riots in Macondo. Not least because the thugs run the place.

All the black people in Burque are frighteningly respectable, totally Beaver Cleaver, either descended from the railroad workers (ca. turn of 20th c.) or the post-Civil-War freedmen of the Buffalo Soldier ilk who founded little towns out here in don't-fence-me-in territory.

And then you get swept away by the Navajo blue arch over the shitty highway just at the point where the vista toward the blue Sandias opens out of the shitty strip mall. It matches the mountains' skyline and color perfectly. Lift thine eyes! It's magic, the desert. For real.

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