2006-08-25-0255Z


In case I didn't make it clear: after Greyhound refused to take my windskate without my paying extra, I stayed overnight in El Paso, of course at the Open Air Hotel, suffering the mosquitos for the privilege of a free night's sleep. The next morning I dragged my ass back over the border, caught the Permisionarios bus to C. Camionera, and got the $10 trip back to Palomas, from where I walked home. Slept all that afternoon and most of the night, then went back to EP today...

Somewhere between Las Cruces and Deming, we went through an inspection station where we were questioned about being US citizens. They rudely woke me up; after I thought they were finished, up comes Mr. Righteous, a Mexican-American border patrol agent, with a suspicious-looking suitcase from the cargo hold... it looked a lot like a baritone sax, in fact. He called out for the owner of this terrorist-looking case to come forward, and a pretty young lady and her daughter came up. Drum roll while it was opened... the people on the side facing the action called out "shoes"! Wow, another terrorist plot nipped in the bud by our wonderful guardians of freedom.

Approaching Lordsburg the interstate was narrowed to two lanes by flooding; this desert had been turned to marshland by the rains over the past few weeks. An unprecedented amount of plant growth, at least for 8 years or more, has occurred in this part of the country due to the amount of rainfall.

In Lordsburg we stopped, as usual, at the McDonald's which serves as the Greyhound station. I decided to strike a blow for anarchy, and headed two blocks north to the liquor store and bought a pint of Foster's Bitter. After lights out I drank it all, and nobody complained to the driver. Not that I was blatant about it, but I fully expected someone would rat me out and I'd spend the night in jail. I'm pleasantly surprised that, despite the Gestapo-like searches and seizures, this country hasn't yet degenerated into a bunch of bleating sheep/shepherds as David Icke says.

I'm wondering if ostracism will be sufficient to keep people from becoming minions of the parasitic government. It will take near-total cooperation from freedom-loving people for it to work... we must not speak to, sell to, or buy from anyone who is employed as a policeman, border patrol agent, or any other government employee whose job involves limiting our freedom. I'm violating my own principles by dealing with the Gutierrez family's businesses (including the only bar in town) when R. claims to be involved in enforcing the law that residences must be at least 700 square feet in size. I hope he was joking or exaggerating... I'll have to talk with him about it before deciding what to do. For one thing, it will be the end of my supply of Guinness kegs, which is part of my dream of an oasis of freedom in the desert; what Larry, whom I met yesterday, calls the "Mystic Café": a place which a traveler will stumble upon the the middle of the dry, unforgiving desert sun where one finds food, beer, coffee, intelligent conversation, anarchical idealism, rational self-interest, love, sex, freedom...

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