My culture is dead to me

Dead Man's Party

Like every other person of Mexican descent you might know, I’m here to inform you that everything you know about the Day of the Dead is wrong. No, I’m not that Ask A Mexican doofus, because I’m pretty sure that only prostitutes get paid for their ethnicity and I would never take filthy, nasty New Times money.

Also, I think it’s important to note that I’m what the Mexicans might (probably) call a “pocho” which means that I was born in the U.S. and I not only have no immediate family in the old country but also speak Spanish poorly. However, since I live in a neighborhood that’s predominantly Latino (read: Don’t major in Communication Studies kids) and most outsiders couldn’t tell the difference between me and any other mojado, I feel more than qualified to tell you everything I know about the holiday and clarify any misconceptions.

Here we go:

Dia de los Muertos started about 20 years ago when Pepe Garcia was in a slap fight with Raul Lopez. They had been carrying on a “brokeback” kind of affair which they believed was secret but everyone in their small village of Mexico City knew about . . . Upon learning that their secret was common knowledge and that no one cared, Raul threw himself in front of the nearest donkey cart and Pepe decided that he would give up on love from that day on . . . To wit, Pepe moved to Wichita, KS (illegally of course).

To celebrate the memory of the dearly departed, stereotypes dictate that you’re supposed to tell stories of the deceased or hang out at their grave site and leave sweets or liquor. However, it’s now more customary to simply look for a way to register to vote in the United States.

The traditional costumes for the holiday are skeleton masks but I hear we’re changing that to Blackface if only further aggravate relations with the African-American community and gloat that we stole all of the low end service jobs and high five the Asians who have the manufacturing jobs as we share our commonality in disparaging Black people. Sure, we may be much shorter than Black people but it puts us much closer to the ground in order to pick up crumbs.

Also, these two days of celebration provide yet another opportunity to sneak over the border, with drugs, especially if you’re a child molester. However, it’s important to note that an employer would rather give a job to a drug mule, illegal alien, child molester than a qualified Black man . . . Either that or talk radio propaganda regarding affirmative action has finally come full circle.

Finally, Dia De Los Muertos is as good of a time as any to have or make a baby. Odds are the 300 millionth person in the U.S. is a person of color and will speak English horribly but here’s hoping that he’s a pocho like me, so that our traditions (like kissing our grandmothers on the mouth before doing a drive by) will never be forgotten.

TONY’s KANSAS CITY

2 Responses to “My culture is dead to me”

  1. Bang says:

    Big up to you , pocho. from one to another. but word, I don’t think that the Day of the Dead was on some homo shit, ya nah mean. Maybe the wikpedia did you wrong tht day.

    [/sarcasm]

  2. snapper says:

    Pochos from Kansas breaking down day of the dead is like B. rock Obama teaching African American studies.

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