Stannous Flouride's Book of Truthiness

Today’s tour included the Temple Mayor, Teotihuacan, and finally the Altar of the Aztec Cave Goddess.
Or, as the priests corrected the girls who had a vision and described a well known image of their Goddess, the Virgin of Guadalupe.
I almost converted but that would have been too great a miracle for their omnipotent Bronze Age sky-god to manage.

I just walked a little over 2km to a UPS store that doesn’t open before the crack of noon. (I’m shipping a bunch of heavy stuff home)
But the great thing about running errands in a strange city is that every one becomes a voyage of discovery.
Along with various doors and art and old buildings, today I came upon this fantastic piece of commissioned art.
From a distance I could not tell what the puffy things covering it were. Only upon approach did I see that they are hundreds of planters. One of the most brilliant and beautiful works of public art I have ever seen. And once again I am reminded how LAME San Francisco is in that department.

James Madison, patriot, humanist, 4th President of the United States (born 16 March 1751)

So sadly true. Are we safe yet?

The final defense of the castle fell to a handful of young military cadets. They faced, and eventually fell to the battle-hardened veterans of General Winfield Scott’s invading US Army.
Though they are lauded on canvas and in life-size bronze I could not help but notice that the extensive battle damage that the walls of their bastion suffered during their final hours had been patched.
I found one hole but it was easy to see where thousands of others had been filled. Since it was of different materials than the original limestone it aged to a different color.
Visible as light and dark spots against the stone (which on the inside is uniform in color) you can see what a brutal assault took place.
It’s not my National Monument but I feel that those holes were paid for with the blood and lives of those young men.
In Berlin, London, Gettysburg, the Alamo, and dozens of other places that suffered in wars the blemishes have been left in place as a reminder of the Hell that is war. Invariably, I found those places very moving.

This is the view from what will be my home for the next 18 days.
It is overcast and drizzly and 50°F with an expected high of 64°. Kind of makes me feel like I’m home in San Francisco and it’s summer.
Today I’ll be going to the Museo Nacional de Anthrpologia y Historia. A place I have wanted to visit for many years.

I was fascinated by the buildings in Merida. The mix of materials and construction techniques, the old and decayed right next to the restored and pristine.
I spent hours walking and biking around the city and took so many pics I have to divide them into a few separate posts by theme.

One of the first things I posted on here was a startling statue of an exaggerated young black child eating a piece of watermelon. A rather distressing stereotype that one doesn’t expect to see in 2015 (except maybe in an SAE frat house but they’re morons).
But I learned about CriCri (from the sound of a cricket) who created dozens of animated cartoons for several generations of Mexican children.
Judging from the character’s puffy sleeves he’s Cuban but until I search YouTube I won’t have any more info. Here is a claymation video of El Negrito Sandia:cri cri-negrito sandia: https://youtu.be/L8O27iarS00As jarring as it is to our eyes, I’m sure the Disney “Songs of the South”/Brer Rabbit cartoons are full of equally outdated and unpleasant images and stereotypes.