The artist Swoon investigated the murders of hundreds of women in Juarez, Mexico, and created an installation featuring a portrait of one of the victims at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco.
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Tagged as juarez, mexico, swoon
The police are the killers. The Juarez police are the most filthy, corrupt, depraved scum I have met anywhere.
Yeah, the feminicide serial murderers can all pack machine guns and pistols, but I can’t even carry a pea-shooter. It’s “illegal”, and permits aren’t even available for the law-abiding like me.
What’s a person, man or woman, supposed to do, when all the bad guys, all the killers, have guns and badges?
The murderers are called “transitos”, they are guys with big black mustaches who drive green and white motorcycles and carry revolvers. They pull women over and rape and kill them.
Those fucking pigs are cowards and bullies, they come up and challenge you, for no reason, I was sitting in a parking lot, and they came right up to my door, they’ve followed me, harassed me, and came to my house in the middle of the night with a group of men.
And if they think you have tactical options, then they just call the federales to back them up; i.e., if you won’t just lie down and be murdered, like a nice puppy, then they’ll summon infinite backup, right up to the fighter planes and the armored helicopters, because you’re an infinite tactical threat. Lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my.
Good people have to leave the city, because good men, honest men, men of integrity, and fathers will start killing the bad cops, and that’s what the war is about–the putos, the little coward cops, are attracted to Juarez so that they can fuck the little maquiladora teenie-boppers, one after another, and get drunk on power and bribes.
They’re just like animals, and the cowards quit (they resigned and ran away) when the military came. Because no more waving their pistols around in traffic anymore.
I already confronted these people, and sure, it’d be nice if somebody came down here, and cleaned up this place and killed all the Juarez murderers, but there are so many, you’d just be sitting there in a lawn chair, squeezing the trigger on a semi-automatic, “boom” “boom” “boom”, all day long, your finger would get tired. Life is so cheap here, and these killers keep coming, and these teenie boppers keep showing up, and this conveyor belt of bloody meat just keeps churning out bodies.
And if you did clean everything out, it would be the same again in 10 years, it’s the desert, the border forces, the desperation that drives everything here. People desperately having sex. People desperately extorting each other. People running around, looking crazy, looking possessed, like they have diablitos in their souls.
You can fight crime, you can fight corrupt, you can even fight the cartels, but how do you fight the devilish nature of Mexican people’s souls?
When you go to Juarez, you know who the murderers are.
Don’t worry, they’ll find you before you ever find them. They know who you are, and where you’re coming from, and why you’re there.
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