An Oldie But Goodie From Earlier This Year

Laws are like sausages. You should never see them made.

Otto von Bismark

Lately I’ve been adding fake chorizo made from soy to some of my recipes. Just like the real thing, it spices things up. So soybean squeezings now make an appearance in some of my chili-like concoctions. But not in the real chili. Nope…that would be blasphemous, and punishable by death by dismemberment. But I cook up a variety of dishes that are chili-like, and there is no law, either of man or the chili gods, that prohibits the introduction of fake chorizo into those one-pot experiments.

I’d much rather use the real thing. Real chorizo, beef or pork…don’t matter. It is much tastier, but too much of that stuff will kill you. Chokes off your arteries while you are looking the other way, enjoying yourself.

Chorizo is one of those sausages that falls into the category of “you should never see them made”. It is made mostly from parts, and it doesn’t much matter if they are pork or beef parts. Those of us who have studied the intimate anatomy of animals know of these parts, but the average man on the street would not. These parts do not come from the filet. They don’t come from even close to the places most would consider edible. Heck, most wouldn’t use these parts as catfish bait.

But when these parts are properly chopped up and then reassembled with appropriate seasonings, a dollop or six of fat, and that red color not found in nature, the end result tastes good. It’s not good for you, and you wouldn’t want to watch it being made, but it tastes so good.

Along with advising us that we don’t want to watch the making of sausage, most will combine that statement with a similar warning about how our laws are made. This dark process also involves some of the less prime parts, of the population this time. And it is an ugly thing, and even when finished, it doesn’t “tastes so good”.

And for those who so enjoy their cocaine, heroin, or fine imported marijuana after a tasty dinner with family, I guess it might dismay to see how so many evil parts must come together to make these pleasant diversions so readily available. Specifically, the shenanigans of the middlemen of the drug pipeline, the cartels of northern Mexico, come to mind. Over the last few years these innocent victims of the American lust for pharmacological entertainment have lowered the standard for inhuman behavior to record levels in the course of their day to day, ah, workday. And it’s hard to watch.

Bribes and graft, strong-arm tactics and kidnapping, torture and murder, these folks know all the games. Best guess puts the murder number around 34,000 as the two main players, the Sinaloa and Juarez cartels have at each other for the advantage in this merchandizing endeavor. And apparently these folks are beginning to annoy the neighbors, for they say that some 230,000 people have moved out of the neighborhood seeking a little peace and quiet. Some towns now feel like ghost homes only.

All this effort expended over a Fistful of Dollars….

The stranger wore a dirty serape and his hat hung low over his eyes. His long legs nearly reached the ground as he slowly rode his burrow down the dusty, deserted path that passed for a street in the little town. As he soon discovered, the lonely hamlet had suffered from years of competition between the Baxters and the Rojos, this border town’s 19^th century version of today’s drug cartels. Those few homes still occupied housed mostly widows and orphans, and a pall of death hung over the place.

It must have felt much like the border today. The government had a presence, but it was ineffective and corrupt, as is the standard for that country. The innocent people of the land were of the decent sort, as they are today. The criminals were greedy and heartless, and very, very dangerous. And the tall man was imperfect, but very effective.

This was only a movie, and so not at all like real life, but in the end the tall man killed each and every one of those bad men, and the innocent people went back to their simple happy lives. Perhaps there is a message here, but no one who would dismiss the need to kill every one of the bad men today will listen.