A Bald Choice

It´s an election year here in Argentina. The president is chosen in October, but a scant week from now on June 3 all residents of Gran Buenos Aires are legally obligated to vote for their mayor, or as the job is officially called for some reason, ´Chief of Government´.

The candidates are:

Jorge Telerman, the Socialist incumbent and favorite to win. His incredibly bald head can be seen on posters all over the city. Telerman is Jewish and an ally of Argentine president Nestor Kirchner.

Daniel Filmus, secretary of education and candidate of the Front for Victory Party. Also Jewish and an ally of Kirchner. Why two allies of the president should run against each other in a non-runoff election I have no idea.

Mauricio Macri, right-wing son of the owner of Argentina´s most popular football team, Boca Juniors, and therefore richer than God. Candidate of the PRO party, which doesn´t seam to be an acronym for anything.

Among those three, Filmus is the intellectual, but his professorial beard is no match for Telerman´s sly decision to make his striking ugliness into an advantage, viz:



It says ´Telerman, the only one who has the city in his head´.

Another ad of his shows someone dropping a ballot into his cranium. Should bald jokes fail, he can always go for a little Andy Warhol action:



Of course, it´s not all smooth sailing for this guy. Telerman has his job because back in 2004 La Republica Cromagnon, a popular Buenos Aires rock club, caught fire and killed nearly 200 people. This caused such an outcry that the then-mayor Anibal Ibarra had to resign and Deputy Mayor Telerman took over. The club´s owner, Emir Chaban, happens to be Telerman´s good friend, and he has been waiting for his trail for over two years. As Jose Costillo, candidate of the Socialist Left party, told me: ¨Fantastic. We finally get cooperation between Jews and Muslims and they unite to screw us all over¨.

Of course, no matter who wins, the streets will still be filled with trash, people will drive like maniacs, and the city will shut down whenever it rains. No candidate has emerged who has been willing to deal with those things. Yet.

Jerry Falwell Smothered by His Own Jowels

and Christopher Hitchens crawls out of his pile of liquor bottles to give the most unflattering eulogy possible.

The dead reverend has only touched my life in too very minor incidents:

First, my Manhattan-dwelling cousin has a a small plush Tinky-Winky in his otherwise tastefully decorated apartment. As he told me, ¨If Fallwell says Tinky-Winky and I are both perverts, who am I to disagree?¨

Second, last December a friend of mine and I used the college radio station to present ´Merry Kitchmas´, in which we played the most tawdry holiday songs we could find. To round out the set we played the least inspired rendition of Handel´s Hallelujah Chorus ever recorded. Who was responsible for this Baroque monstrosity? Jerry Fallwell´s Old-Time Gosepl Hour Choir.

Mafalda

Left to Right: Miguelito, Susanita, Mafalda, Felipe, Manolito. Front Row: Libertad, Guille

During my time in Argentine, the cultural phenonemon that has most consumed me hasn´t been tango or football or Peronism, but Mafalda, a comic strip which is something of a cross between Peanuts and Calvin and Hobbes.

It´s funny, it´s cute, and it veers between childlike innocence and jaw-drpiing cynicism.

The characters are:

Mafalda: A six-year-old girl with a precocious mind. She is devoted to her the Beatles and Woody Woodpecker, though she hates James Bond. Her plan is to become an interpreter at the UN and mistranslate the insults so that everyone can live in peace. Mafalda constantly listens to world news on her transistor radio and has generally 'progressive' views on things. Her mother is a stay-at-home mom and her father works in an insurance office. Mafalda is always confronting them with embarassing or difficult questions. She has a pet tortoise named Burocracia (Beaureacracy).

Susanita (Suzie): Apparently Mafalda´s best friend and a shameless gossip. Susanita is more old-fashioned in her political and social views, often making disaparaging remakrs about the poor. Her goal in life is to get married and have as many children as possible. She appears to have a crush on Felipe, though she and Manolito are always fighting.

Felipe: A year older than most of the other children, Felipe is fond of dressing up as the Lone Ranger and playing cowboys. He hates school even though his grades are very good. His teeth are unfortunately prominent.

Miguelito (Mike): The grandson of Italian immigrants, Miguelito is a year younger than the rest of the children and has ´lettuce-leaf hair´. Due to his Fascist grandfather, he attributes almost everything (including the moon landings) to Mussolini.

Manolito (Manolo Jr.): The son of Spanish immigrants, Manolito´s family owns an 'almacen', or neighborhood grocery store, notorious for its high prices and questionable products. His dream is to have his own chain of supermarkets.

Guille (Billy): Mafalda´s little brother. He is devoted to Brigette Bardot and draws on the wall whenever possible.

Libertad (Freedom): A very small girl with hippy parents. Libertad is a socialist, which often puts her at odds with Manolito and Susanita. She also tends to be cheeky to her schoolteachers.

It´s difficult to convey a comic strip without pictures, but I´ll try, to give you an idea of the strip:

(Mafalds is listening to her radio)
Radio: And now for an old tradition that´s never out of style...
Mafalda: Killing people?
Radio:...drinking Black-Grog Whiskey!
Mafalda: Ah...

Mafalda: Mom, do you think Chinese Communism will...
Mom: No! Focus on things a child should focus on!
(Mafalda blows bubbles into the air and claps her hands)
Mafalda: Ooh, how pretty! How pretty!(Pause) There you go. Mom, do you think Chinese Communism...

Mafalda: Hello Manolito; going around with all five senses focused on making money?
Manolito: I don´t understand; what are the other four?

May Day

May Day has come and gone here in Buenos Aires, and I have to say: what a letdown! Growing up on lackluster ´Labor Day´ holidays, I expected something a little bit more from a country with a living, breathing labor movement and a tumultous political history.

What was I expecting? I dunno, marches, fluttering red banners, International Workers´ Solidarity. Instead, it was basically just a day off. Restaurants and cafes were open, and the bookstores were crowded with parents trying to entertain their children on their day off from school.

Yeah, some protesters got arrested, but that happens every week here.