By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
Illustration by Mark DancyDear Mexican,
As a Mexican, aren't you embarrassed and ashamed that probably the No. 1 dream of people in Mexico is to sneak illeagelly [sic] into the United States, a gringo gabaucho [sic] society that is probably not one-tenth as corrupt as Mexico, which enables it to have an economy which has so much wealth even the poor people here have 27-inch color TVs?
As an American, aren't you embarrassed that you can't write proper English—or as you may spell it, Inglich? Illeagelly? Gabaucho? Cabrón, what country are you from? I know teenagers fresh from Jalostitlan who spell better. And as a Mexican, I am ashamed—ashamed that not enough of my paisanos have moved into H.B. and scared pendejo gabachos like you off to Arizona, just as we did in Santa Ana. And Anaheim. And Stanton. And La Habra. And . . .
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