Emilio Olivares - The LA Flood Project (sitios de interés)
Descripción del sitio
Emilio Olivares, Prof. of Anthropology
This guy, approaching now looks hurried. He looks determined. Shit, he is robbing me. My wallet?! All I have in it is my ATM, scraps of paper, and stupid receipts I save to keep from littering the poor neighborhoods. The rich ones are a different story. I will also miss the “Peoples Credit Card” of course, the one my crazy artist friend gave me to always keep in my wallet, with Salvador Allende’s September 11th, 1973 final speech:
“This is the last time I shall be able to speak to you… I will repay with my life the loyalty of the people… I’m certain that the seeds we have sown in the conscience of thousands and thousands of Chileans cannot be completely eradicated.
Neither murder nor force is strong enough to hold back the process of social change. History belongs to us, because it is made by the people.
But my pictures… it’s what I am going to miss most. My children, their pictures.
I should tell him I’m just as angry as he is. Not as desperate and hungry though, I am sure.
If I open my mouth he is probably going to laugh in my face. But I should tell him. So what the hell am I doing thinking about all of this for. The knife in his hand is long enough to puncture an organ if he knows how to use it. He has the strength to stab deep enough.
We have all been robbed. I should tell him. Every single one of us, even me that wasn’t born here. The Wall Street Bankers have robbed us all, and with a smile. Crime will go up but not around their neighborhoods, surely not.
To hell with it, and why not, hope their caviar tastes of it.
I am not giving my wallet up. He will have to take it. Besides, blood and water mix well, and it makes for a pretty sight. It’s a good bleeding day today, as good as any.
This guy, approaching now looks hurried. He looks determined. Shit, he is robbing me. My wallet?! All I have in it is my ATM, scraps of paper, and stupid receipts I save to keep from littering the poor neighborhoods. The rich ones are a different story. I will also miss the “Peoples Credit Card” of course, the one my crazy artist friend gave me to always keep in my wallet, with Salvador Allende’s September 11th, 1973 final speech:
“This is the last time I shall be able to speak to you… I will repay with my life the loyalty of the people… I’m certain that the seeds we have sown in the conscience of thousands and thousands of Chileans cannot be completely eradicated.
Neither murder nor force is strong enough to hold back the process of social change. History belongs to us, because it is made by the people.
But my pictures… it’s what I am going to miss most. My children, their pictures.
I should tell him I’m just as angry as he is. Not as desperate and hungry though, I am sure.
If I open my mouth he is probably going to laugh in my face. But I should tell him. So what the hell am I doing thinking about all of this for. The knife in his hand is long enough to puncture an organ if he knows how to use it. He has the strength to stab deep enough.
We have all been robbed. I should tell him. Every single one of us, even me that wasn’t born here. The Wall Street Bankers have robbed us all, and with a smile. Crime will go up but not around their neighborhoods, surely not.
To hell with it, and why not, hope their caviar tastes of it.
I am not giving my wallet up. He will have to take it. Besides, blood and water mix well, and it makes for a pretty sight. It’s a good bleeding day today, as good as any.