Shorty and the Magic Show

Step right up folks and see the greatest show on the planet. El Chapo is his name, and magic is his game. Is he saint or is he sinner? Watch in awe as this vertically challenged boy from Sinaloa transforms himself from lowly peasant to powerful prince before your very eyes. Gaze in amazement as El Chapo escapes daringly from not one, but two maximum security prisons, only to be captured and imprisoned once again. Observe him attending a Mexican Governors’ Conference, joking and partying with top executives from all over the country, while under the protection of heavily-armed soldiers and a Mexican Navy warship. Your jaws will drop to the floor when you see El Chapo; one of the most powerful drug lords on earth, conducting business with two Mexican presidents and top officials from the C.I.A., D.E.A., I.C.E., and A.T.F., all the while receiving shipments of guns and ammunition from the U.S.A, and untold tons of heroin from Afghanistan by way of C.I.A. chartered airplanes. You’ll shudder with amazement as he steals the souls of hopeless, drooling American drug addicts and murders thousands of Mexicans from competing cartels, while becoming the most beloved hero, philanthropist, and sought-after sperm donor in his home state of Sinaloa. Now once again detained in Mexico, El Chapo is likely to be extradited to the U.S.A., where his drug empire has sent trillions of dollars to big banks for proper laundering on Wall Street. What will happen next? Another miraculous escape? A disappearance into thin air? Mysterious apparent jailhouse suicide? Don’t be shy folks. Step right up to see the show. One thin dime, one-tenth of a dollar. Come inside now because seating is limited.

Joaquin Archivaldo Guzman Loera. El Chapo or Shorty, as the world knows him. He truly is a magic man, but the real magic in this show comes from the U.S. Government and client governments world-wide, including that of Mexico, which perform miracles with the proficiency of quadriplegic, chainsaw-juggling, blindfolded tap dancers. Seriously, how can these people claim to be fighting a “War on Drugs”, spending billions of taxpayer dollars to do so, and all the while working behind the scenes, shipping U.S. made weapons to El Chapo’s Sinaloa Drug Cartel (the favored trading partner), and managing the world drug trade. Filling the streets of American cities with illicit chemicals, then arresting and imprisoning those who use them. Sending guns to Mexico, then pretending to be fighting against those who use them. In the same manner the U.S.A. wages actual wars for profit, the War on Drugs is a win-win-win-win-win-win-lose situation, with only the drug addicts (incarcerated or not) and those who’ve been brutally murdered counted among the losers.

Who wins, you might be wondering? Gee whiz, it’s a long list, and I’m no longer part of this magic show, so bear with me. Topping the chart are big multi-national banks, which launder untold hundreds of billions in drug-bucks annually. These transactions then translate into Wall Street profits and a huge shot of adrenalin for the stock market from all those billions in newly washed cash. Then there are the folks at the federal agencies who run the War on Drugs, and are rewarded annually for their utter failure with ever-increasing budgets, promotions, and raises, and absolutely no reason in the world to actually fight a war on drugs. And, of course, the police departments, awash with more than enough money, equipment, and personnel to arrest and incarcerate the victims of drugs, unlucky enough to get caught or too wasted to care. Certainly we don’t want to forget the private prison industry, the way it writes its own draconian drug laws through organizations like A.L.E.C., then profits handsomely from the misery of its unwilling clients. U.S.A.; 5% of the world population, 25% of the prison population.

Not to forget those with the most blood on their hands — the arms industry has grown in leaps and bounds, providing an ever-increasing product lineup, and just the right portable W.M.D. for even the most discriminating consumer. Whether that be a frightened American citizen, head of a municipal police force, the US Military, U.S. drug enforcement organization, or Mexican drug cartel kingpin, the N.R.A. and America’s gun makers are there for you. Ready to aid in death and destruction, wherever and whenever they’re needed, and laughing all the way to the bank.

Of course, the War on Drugs, like any war, requires lots of war equipment: armored vehicles, tanks, helicopters, airplanes, electronic gear, computers, buildings, airports, and thousands of other economic shots in the arm for a fragile, failing American economy. We mustn’t leave out our omniscient elected representatives in the U.S. Senate and House, who are handsomely rewarded for making damn certain that the War on Drugs drags on infinitely. Last but not least are the Sinaloa Cartel and rival gangs, Mexican politicians, drug growers, producers, runners, and the Mexican Military. Like El Chapo recently recounted his childhood to Sean Penn in the infamous Rolling Stone interview: “The only way to have money, to buy food to survive is to grow poppy, marijuana…I began to grow it, to cultivate it, and to sell it.”

Looks to me like Shorty became an important part of the magic show through necessity rather than choice. Magically transforming poppies and cannabis into cash. The rest of the cast of characters are simply greedy opportunists. A half century ago, when I was coming of age, discovering illegal drugs in the streets of Phoenix, Arizona, I honestly believed that my government was looking after my best interests. Sure, I told the voices of authority to take a flying fucking leap (it’s what I do), and tried every illegal substance I could get my hands on, but I never once doubted that the folks who draw up the laws of the land did so with only the best of intentions. I had no idea that, at that time, the C.I.A. was busy refining heroin in Laos, and that the drug business had already become one of the ugliest facets in the convoluted and misguided Vietnam War. In no time, Southeast Asia became America’s go-to supplier for the blossoming world-wide heroin industry. Who knew?

Step up folks. Please don’t crowd, but don’t be shy. You know you want to see the show. What will El Chapo do next? The magic man will leave you guessing and begging for more. Will he escape again? Will the U.S.A. manage to extradite him, and if they do so will he blow the cover of the C.I.A., and high officials in the American and Mexican governments? You won’t believe your eyes and ears as a contortionist from the U.S. State Department twists and turns until his head is firmly planted up his ass, and then announces that the capture of El Chapo is a major step toward winning the War on Drugs. Pay your ten cents to the young lady at the entrance and see a show you’ll never forget. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and it begins in ten minutes. Step right up, folks. Afterwards, Little Egypt will be doing her famous Dance of the Pyramids, and several prominent politicians will bite the heads off of live chickens and puppies. Immediate seating on the inside.

John R. Hall, having finally realized that no human being in possession of normal perception has a snowball's chance in hell of changing the course of earth's ongoing trophic avalanche, now studies sorcery with the naguals don Juan Matus and don Carlos Castaneda in the second attention. If you're patient, you might just catch him at his new email address, but if his assemblage point happens to be displaced, it could take a while. That address is: Read other articles by John R..