By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
By Charles Lam
Dear Mexican: Looking back recently on my distant youth in northwest Ohio, I came to the realization that the sweetest, most beautiful girl this gabacho ever went out with (indeed, in my entire senior class) was the pure-blooded daughter of Mexican immigrants. Am I under the sway of 1) simple nostalgia, 2) racist exoticism, 3) premature senility, or 4) a deep sense of loss for what might have been? Please help, before I start reading Proust!
Couldn’t Help Wondering
Dear Gabacho: None of the above. Face it: you fucked up. Era the real deal. Now, go drown your mistake in bottles of Sauza (rotgut tequila; you don’t deserve the amber heaven that is Herradura), put on the Pedro Infante and weep like a good macho. After that, find her on Facebook and ask, “What’s up?”
I used to look forward to reading you, but a previous edition of your column leads me to express my disdain. A guy asked why so many young Latinos grab their dick, quote rap and don’t embrace their own culture. Here was your chance to speak out about something that LULAC, MALDEF and every other farce of a Latino voice out there should have already done and rip Mexican youth a new one for loving black culture. I don’t know how old you are, but blacks had their shot: abolishing slavery, civil rights—just to name a few big ones. They have made great advances. But, at the same time, any young or old pendejo can see that they also suck, leading in incarceration, HIV-infection and abortion rates; low school-testing scores; adoption candidates. These are facts since we started keeping score. So here is this older, confused Chicano who wants you to perhaps help inform the young Latino flock of sheep to stop this edification and false-idol worship, and you turn it into our (Latino and black) struggle! Wake up, pendejo: They had their chance; it’s our turn. Why do you think [Mexican’s note: He goes on to ramble for a couple of hundred more words, so now we jump to . . .]? Are you politically scared? Do you want to stick to funny? Or are you, I think, like the misguided “I love to suck black cock” sheep of dumb America?
Dewey del Diablo
Dear Readers: I print this letter as educational experience. Dewey wrote it a couple of years ago, so may it give hope to the thousands of you who have sent in preguntas and contact me months later, wondering if I’ll ever answer it. Patience, gente, patience. I will, but make like legal immigrants and wait your turn in line. Dewey is a racist Mexican pendejo—his “facts” are as laughable as those created by FAIR, but I’ll let negrito bloggers debunk them—so may this show Mexican apologists that we can dish the hate just as well as, if not worse than, Know Nothings. Best yet, Dewey actually introduced himself to me at a Houston book signing last year with the best possible compliment: “You’re like the Bible, man. I hate you, but I can’t stop reading.” Want to hurt me, Know Nothings? Don’t write to me. Every time ustedes do, it’s further proof that the Reconquista is not only real, but also hilarious.
Explain to me, por favor, why Latinos (including Mexicans and Chicanos, but not Guatemalans) are the most superior baseball players on the planet? Is there some socio-political conspiracy going on here?
Latino Umpire Laughing At Caucasians
Dear LULAC: Seems to be steroids. Thank God the most notable baseball players past and present of Mexican descent—Fernando Valenzuela, Ted Williams, Nomar Garciaparra, Evan Longoria—appear to have achieved their greatness only through sandlot baseball, college programs and/or a steady carne-asada diet.