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Fear and Loathing South of the Border: A Word on Mexico

TJAs a person who never feels fully alive unless he’s in danger of being killed, life in a developed nation can get a little bland.  It is for that reason that I participated in a diplomatic mission to Baja California this past weekend despite universal advice to the contrary from friends, insurance providers, and the US Government.  Have you guys heard of this Baja California place?  It’s similar to the United States in that you can get there by car, but – get this – it’s actually a part of Mexico!  Crazy right?

All you do is drive twenty minutes south from San Diego and BOOM you’re in a completely different country.  And not just any country, you’re in Mexico.  This isn’t like going to Canada where everything is basically the same except colder, Frencher, and boring.  This is like driving your car to India.  One minute you’re driving past Taco Bells, Taco Times and Del Tacos and then all of a sudden everything’s in a different language and no one knows what a gallon is.

All of this would be merely unsettling and not necessarily terrifying were it not for the fact that Tijuana is in “the other California.”  Tijuana – in case you haven’t heard – is pretty much the worst place for an American to be seen this side of Fallujah.  This is unfortunate because Tijuana is located one foot outside of America.  To reference one particularly illustrative statistic, in 2008 there were over 800 murders in Tijuana.  In that same year, New York and LA recorded 417 and 302 murders, respectively.  Things have not gotten better.  Tijuana’s criminal element has a nasty habit of undermining tourism by stabbing all the tourists.  Tijuana’s police aren’t much help in this matter due to their nasty habit taking of bribes and getting decapitated.  Fortunately, we were not deterred by these minor details since our pre-trip research consisted solely of watching The OC’s “TJ” episode.

Typically, things like drug cartel infighting, police corruption, and non-English speakers don’t trouble me anyway.  They stay on their side of the world, I stay on mine and we all get along famously.  Besides, I’ve got enough on my plate as it is with the Mad Men Season 3 premiere, the Blink 182 reunion tour, McDonalds monopoly, etc.  After a weekend in Mexico, however, my complacency is no longer possible.  No longer can I count on several oceans and a whole ton of ICBMs to keep me safe from the outside world.  They live next door.  A mere forty-five minutes from where I’m sitting right now, there are people drinking Apple-flavored soda and plotting ways to get their hands on my passport.

Is anyone looking into this?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this why we bought Texas – to act as a buffer zone between America and the Third World?  What’s the point of having places like San Antonio, El Paso, and Six Flags Over Texas if we’re going to allow our unruly neighbors to live this close to Sea World?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m afraid of the Mexicans.  Okay, it’s not only that.  We need places like Texas – 17 hours of big tires, belt buckles, and desolation – to protect people like me from ourselves.  As long as Mexico is only an hour away, young, stupid Americans will continue crossing the border in search of cheap tequila and a decent burrito and they will continue being fleeced by shrewd adolescent street salesmen peddling ceramic turtles.  Not to mention the debilitating gastro-intestinal issues.  Something must be done.  Since expanding Texas is unacceptable, I see only one option at our disposal: hostile takeover.

I fail to see how converting Iraq into the 51st state is going to make me any more secure when I still have access to Mexico.  Think how much safer we would be if all that money and manpower we’re spending in Arabia was put to use conquering Baja California.  It wouldn’t take much.  Heck, all it takes to get into Mexico is slowing to a speed of ten miles an hour as you go through the gate.  (Note: This is the same security measure in place at a typical Wal-Mart parking lot.)  Actually, the San Diego Police Department could probably handle the invasion by themselves.  Six weeks (max) and the Stars and Stripes would be flying from TJ to Cabo.

Everyone wins: they get Lakers games on TV and a few less decapitations every year; we get a dozen new SB2K10 hot spots and some exotic cannabis crossbreeds.  I don’t know about you, but that’s a lot more appealing to me than “access to oil reserves” and “stability in the Middle East.”  Think about it.  Every fifty years or so America runs out of safe, sanitary vacation spots and what do we do?  We go out and conquer a new one.   It worked with Hawaii; it worked with Puerto Rico (sort of); I see no reason why it can’t work with California the Lesser as well.

I’m just saying, think about it.

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