The Illustrator_Surviving American Nationalism by Yadira Escobar

Author:Yadira Escobar [Escobar, Yadira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: reference
Publisher: Wild Montage
Published: 2018-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

Uneasy by my loud complaining in the park, he asked me to lower my voice when two senior executives strolling by stared intently at us. Their preponderant UNP armbands shone with the strength of green immunity that only a strong partisan emblem can bestow.

I pulled out of my bag a symbol of defiance and he gasped on seeing the little red book as if I had flashed an unregistered weapon of mass destruction. Marxist-Leninism had never really appealed to me since it was after all, a banned ideology and I wasn't academic enough to pursue a learning permit for studying forbidden materials. The socialist stand was nowadays more like a universal umbrella where all the angry misfits gathered to shield themselves from the totalitarian acid rain of capitalist fascism.

The enemy of my enemy might be a crucial ally for slaying the hateful UNP bird.

Like upset college students don Che Guevara portraits to complain against injustice, rubbing elbows with leftists could be denounced as political appropriation but one person alone cannot carve out a trench once the battle breaks out.

Let us join forces.

The solitary purist who stands in no man's territory will be shot to death by both sides and they won't bother to investigate if his centrist abstention. A grain of sand is worthless when not part of the unstoppable desert dunes that slowly advance to take over the world when no one is looking.

“Aren't you working for the United Nationalist Party, you know, the far right?” teased my brother.

An attempt at indifference soured my tone of voice: “It's just a job.”

Nobody likes their contradictions pointed out when those contradictions are their bread and butter. Out of the blue, our vision was attracted by a spiritual disruption and we made eye-contact with the unintentional provocateur. What an uncanny sensation of being observed! It's always the same. When someone stares for too long, your half-befuddled sixth sense seeks out whoever beckoned without a word.

We were being observed by a man in a dark shirt and conspicuous sunglasses a few benches away. As expected, he diverted his attention to a cellphone when caught in the act. My brother and I had been losing our twin magic but there were still a few drops left and we both detected the uneasiness of the moment. Interpreting the incident in a similar fashion, we commented on the scary absurdity of being tailgated by some government agent without the use of words, just a meaningful glance or two.

Breathing in, I informed him of my vengeful plans for the evening.

Protesters weren’t amassed by social media apps anymore as that method was forbidden. Like in medieval town squares, rumors spread the old-fashioned way, except this time an anonymous mailer had sent me a personalized notification and I could hear on the street just how much people had distorted the original message.

Two friends walking their dogs in the park shared with enthusiasm a fallacy about military support. Although I enjoyed the rush of hopeful uncertainty, a populist plan to

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