if you have just arrived, then you may be wondering what kind of blog this is. And you may have found my smart-ass fancy dancing "bio" of little help. You're hungry for some good old fashioned, triple-reinforced self-definition and literal disclosure. What the hell am I doing here? Why does the man blog, Martha? For god's sake, why??? Well, as you know—just like your humble gardener—we Mexicans aim to please. It's what we're here for. So let me commence with the pleasin'.

Any time someone honestly relates their personal experience of something, it will bring something unique. At the same time, it will bring something common. And that is why others can latch into it. If it is honest.

This blog has been the chronicle of a journey, and it is as honest as I can make it. There is a definite arc, were one to read from beginning to the present day. I have used this blog to educate myself on Mexican history, to give solidarity to other Xican@s, to add my voice to the blogular conversation going on, and to simply express my pride at being of Mexican descent in the USA.

While this blog is not rigid, and I would keep a place where I can be free to shift around, I mostly write here to empower myself, to continue to shake off this mask, and to do my part to support and empower others in similar situations. I write to counter the negative memes and stereotypes that flood the media, the ones that hurt me growing up. I write to remind those who are of Mexico—or of any land denigrated by America—that we have much to be proud of. That we are not second-class citizens. That there is a monster of a negative messaging machine constantly telling us how gross, dirty, evil and scummy Mexico is, but that we must remember why this is. I try to provide historical reference, and when I say that there is an Indian-Killing spirit that lives in the USA, I do not joke or toss hyperbole. It is how the USA began, and it lives on. I am here to stare it down, and I am not—as the banner says—shy about it.

I am extreme and dramatic. I am not a "level-headed" or "easygoing" person (although I play one, online). I do my junk intensely, I do it with with color, and noise, and passion. I am an artist, and a pretty hot-blooded one. My ideas can be pretty extreme, but they are mine, and they are written in the spirit that I do my paintings, or my songs, or a sculpture.

Regardless of one's ethnicity or self-identification, I promote a revolution of thought, of identity, and of heart. I do not promote use of tazer or Free-Speech-Fencing, phosphorus, waterboarding, or other corruptions of power. I do promote a reshaping of thought, as so much of what we are taught and so much of what we absorb here is propaganda, not designed to empower or bolster the soul and pride and health of each human, but the empire, instead.

Please remember that I speak for no group of people. I represent no group of people. I do feel an affiliation with the poor, with the brown, with the persecuted, with the incarcerated, with the victimized, with the ill, with the addicted, with the afflicted, with the indigenous, with nature's streams and creatures, and with the young, unpolluted, unhypnotized or helpless human. I align myself with them. But nobody invited me, so blame only me. I only stand for myself, speak for myself, represent myself.

I have to admit, I'm not sure how to approach our current system of government. I look around and see many good people. And then I look at history and see that again and again and again, the government simply lies and starts wars based on greed, mostly, and despite who we elect (if our elections are fair, after all, many work to ensure they are not) these wars are launched again. So far, I have voted most years I have been able to do so. Though the world is not now one bit closer to what I would want. So voting may be empowering, but I'm not sure yet who is being empowered.

It's a good lesson, because as Thoreau pointed out, voting is nothing more than a symbol of what we want to see done, and ought not absolve a person from actually doing what they know to be right.

And I think mostly that we need to really think about that. About what is "right"? And how do I do that? I do not think we exercise enough original thought in this place. I think we have been taught and indoctrinated not to do so, but instead to conform.

We default to harmful authority. We accept false knowledge and self-destructive memes. We join the hate and oppression of others because we are told lies by trusted sources for so long that we think they are reality. We abdicate the will to shape our destiny, to investigate cures, to invent ideas; to accept our own bodies and wants and needs and feelings; to assess our own value to any and all philosophy at will; to pass on original knowledge; to think. We have been terrified and terrorized and controlled for so long, we cannot imagine being Free. We are habituated to be passive receptors of medicine, media, medical lore, and transparent hypocrisies. We are so far away from our instinctive and animal selves, and that means too many don't know how to love, to fight, or to feel, and with pureness of heart. Too many don't know how to sew, to cook, to heal, to make shelter, to communicate clearly and honestly, to store food, to filter their information, to analyze critically, or better yet—to feel their own universe-given intuition. To know a liar by hearing them, and to stand by that knowledge. To know a senseless rule when we hear it, and to stand by that. To know the right deed by imagining it, and to do it. We have been brought up on the teat of blind authority to the Parent or to the Church, or to the Television, or to the State—and because of this, we usually just spout propaganda for one or more of many agents. Finding your own true voice and experience involves breaking down and away from all that. It requires great pain and effort. And most people DO have the will and the courage for that.

But we have been taught that we do not.

Finally, The Unapologetic Mexican recognizes no authority over his heart, over his hands, or over his mind. As a human born to this world, I claim the unalienable right to live, to pursue my happiness, to tell the truth, to feed myself, to defend myself, to claim my own space for breathing and moving, and to speak my mind. I do not recognize any other entity's right to deprive me or deny me of these things, despite what invisible line in the sand I step over. If they do so, it could only be by force—and thus they would share the moral ground of a blunt object.

You are free to lurk. You are free to read. If you want to join in the conversation, please read the page on commenting.

Gracias.