Death to all Tyrants

The man with the hat and the kid ride Justice to the statue of mother Leucippe, a marble statue standing on a large pedestal, standing on her right foot, left leg extended back, on her left hand a large piece of cloth with something written in it, on her right hand a large spear extended forward as if trying to pierce something or someone, her head looking forward with a face of pain and wrath, on her left cheek a tear rolling down halfway.

As both got close the man with the hat read the plaque: “Here you find what is left of mother Leucippe, mother to all kings and empress of the world. What she has given only she can take”

“What does that mean?” Asked the kid at the man with the hat

“What part of it all?” Asked the man with the hat back

“Everything”

“It is split in three parts, the first part talks about what is left of her, no one knows where Leucippe rests” The kid looked intrigued at the statue

“So how do they know that this is how she looked?”

“No one knows, this is an assumption, if you look closely her face has little details on her, she is the unknown mother of the world”

“Why is she the mother of the world?”

“Legend says that she gave birth to the first king of all men, if this is true then she is mother to all kings and the empress of the world, in other words she has given birth to all of those who control the world”

“But aren’t those bad people?”

“Some of them, but the way to hell is paved with good intentions so I can’t tell you, you need to use your own judgement, what I can tell you though is that she is a vengeful mother and one that does not take lightly on tyranny, she is said to have given birth to the first kill but also of killing him, the first regicide of the world”

“Is that why she carries a spear on her right hand?”

“Most certainly, it is symbolic too you know? To signify that no one is out of her reach, that is also why she carries that piece of cloth with her, so that all that sees may know that from the very cloth of that same king she killed she wrote a letter to the world”

“What does it say?”

“A mothers last wish is the death of her own son, but when her son kills all others there is no choice, a mother must do what she will, from her ripped to life has come a tyrant and all tyrants must be put to death, by her own hand back to other fields to bring health to other wombs, it is by my own hand that this and all tyrants are to rest, death to all tyrants”

Memories: What was I doing when 9/11 happened?

So what was I doing back during 9/11?

We got asked this the other day for a class and even though I denied giving up my experience in class I do remember the whole situation and something interesting that came from it.

It was early in the morning, I was in Junior High in my second year, when I wake up to my dad watching the news, puzzled look, having breakfast. He was watching el mañanero with Victor Trujillo, using his persona of Brozo, who through an unusual serious method gave out the note of what had just transpired at the WTC in NYC, that there had been a fire, those were his words, and that the authorities were checking on it to understand what had transpired. Now it is easier for me to put an image of Brozo than actually describing it.

Right... yet he still delivered and did it well and even though the man has been on and off the news network through the years it is still refreshing to hear him talk with his typical satirical and highly spicy commentary.

At school they started to talk about the note on 9/11, that it was a plane that had crashed on the first tower and that shortly a second plane had crashed onto the second tower causing panic. While we were at it, discussing this as teenagers, we came to a conclusion that the US would go into a war with whichever nation had attacked them, at this time we assumed it would be somewhere in the Middle East, then we also assumed that by doing so they would go into a war that would last for way too long and raise criticism as to what their true intentions were, which we assumed was Oil. Such uneasy minds we were, so paranoids yet so right in the end.

Then we got note that the border crossing had been closed due to a possible terrorist attack through one of them or in a close city to the border, this is what I recall, so the border line was empty, which is something you will not see anytime soon.

While thinking about this something else came to mind, now there´s a problem because I can´t quite put my finger on the exact date but I remember we were in Junior High when this happened and it all goes back to the newspaper Zeta and the death of el Gato Felix, real name Hector Felix Miranda, who was assassinated four blocks away from my house. Back in the day I remember a small statue, a head and ultimately a plaque which states the following.

Now the untimely death of el Gato Felix is related to his articles speaking about one of the most prominent figures of the city, Jorge Hank Rhon, who has been continuously linked to drugs and other misdemeanors. So, was he killed by him? Most probably. Why am I bringing this up then? Well he was the Director of Zeta but his friend, Blan Cornelias, continued to run the newspaper back in the day which takes us to me again.

So, we´re at Junior High doing whatever we were supposed to be doing when there´s a detonation, and another, then automatic fire which prompted our teacher to yell at us to get away from the windows, us being in a third floor, then hitting the floor. What transpired that moment caught me by surprise, there was this ford explorer near the right side of the road which two pick up trucks blocking the path. It didn't take them long to run away, there was a man sitting next to a telephone pole with an M4A1, he looked bloodied, battered and beyond any possibility of surviving. A minute or two later a man comes crawling out of the explorer, it was Blan Cornelias who had just survived another attack by his enemies one of many he suffered since the death of el Gato Felix. About his bodyguard, there is something peculiar and disturbing about that case. I remember passing through that same pole from time to time to find a candle over a black spot that I don't recall from early times. Coincidence? Maybe, rather not know or mess with that which is no more.

Oh and about Blan Cornelias, he died of old age, ironically, at his house that was just next to the newspaper office.