Thanks to Professor Eliza Rodriguez Y Gibson who pointed my now-scalded eyes, my scarred Mexican-American soul, to this fantabulous atrocity!
Haute couture non-mexican “cholos”!!!! Holy Baudrillard meets Eddie J. Olmos’s Pachuco — who would be rolling over in his grave if he weren’t still thriving in Hollywood!
Mas…High fashion lets you look like a cholo – if you have the dinero
The internet is so much about what to look at.
For me, that’s weird. You see the bulk of the first part of my life was bound up with reading—which is all about looking at things, reading words, but has little to do with seeing, with reading pictures.
It is true that as a kid, I was all about reading while seeing, with Richie Rich, Mad Magazine, Vampirella, Batman, Eerie, and Plop! infecting the technicolor corridors of my imagination.
But after that came college and graduate school with a major in literature—so novels took over (that and critical theory), so words came to dominate the scene of my life.
Mas…The Barrio Nostalgia of ‘Veteranas and Rucas’ on Instagram
When I first applied to UCLA, I wrote in my personal essay that I didn’t have any positive role models in my violent neighborhood.
Having grown up in East Los Angeles’ Ramona Gardens housing project, I wrote that most of the adults represented gang members, drug dealers, thieves, tecatos (heroin addicts), alcoholics, felons and high school dropouts (or push-outs). I also wrote about my disdain for housing authority officials and government workers for behaving like prison wardens and guards toward us: project residents who depended on government aid or welfare.
Moreover, I decried the police abuse that I had witnessed and experienced, like the time when a cop pointed a gun at me. My crime: being a 15-year-old making a rolling stop while learning how to drive.
I always said I wouldn’t grow up to be like my mother.
When I saw her, I saw a woman who wouldn’t leave her husband. A woman who didn’t put her children first.
I grew angry that my father’s temper prevented me from having teenage sleepovers. I grew resentful that they wouldn’t let me go to my high school football games. And I grew bitter as I got older, because she chose not to leave him.
“Mom, I wanna be Batman!” “¿Que, mijo?”
(PNS reporting from PORTLAND) Mario Rojas grew up in a tough Chicago barrio, but since he moved here for college he’s gotten soft, according his friends and family. His old street cred is gone, they worry, and he doesn’t resemble the Mario they used to know.
“He’s all into that hipster shit, organic and whatever, qué es eso? Organic ni nada, ponte a trabajar!” said Rojas’ father, Mario Sr., when contacted by PNS.
Eating a gluten-free alfalfa sprout and chevre cheese taco on an organic blue corn tortilla — and then getting tagged in an Instagram photo by his friend Maggie — didn’t helped Mario Jr.’s reputation either. Until the stylized photographic foul-up, Rojas kept his family in the dark by never sharing pictures of his newly-grown beard, clothes, or food preferences.
Mas…PDX resident loses street cred after Whole Foods Instagram snafu
One of the great things about the Interwebs is that you can literally look up almost anything you want. That’s great right? You’d think with that kind of power there would be no stupid people but that’s just not the case. Instead, we have more stupid people now than any point in history. How do I know this? I’m on Twitter a lot.
So, the other day on Twitter, a friend of mine (we’ll call him Jose) started posting about the classic breakdancing film Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo. I hadn’t thought about that film in years and he ended up posting a link to the entire film. For the life of me, I could not stop watching it. For one thing, it’s like a nasty car wreck that you just have to look at and like some sorry rubbernecker, I ended up watching the whole thing.
Mas…Everything you need to know about ‘Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo’