There are many directions I can point in guiding you to the signs and markers which demonstrate how Los Angeles is one of the greatest Third World cities in the United States. I believe the strongest indicator is the vast empty gulf that resides between the Haves and Have Nots in this town. This dichotomy, while afflicting the normal inventory of material items and status symbols, also hides another layer of Third World polarization which thrives in the Los Angeles-scape. The phenomena of Haves and Have Nots also applies to the social niches which strongly demarcate where each citizen resides on the societal hierarchy. Where do you shop, what do you drive, where do you exercise, what do you do for leisure and entertainment, where do you live…the list is endless. The span between the two cultural “teams” present in this town is astounding.
I was reminded of this excruciating home-grown insight while reading a local news snippet concerning the vacation activities of the penultimate Third World mayor himself, Antonio Villaraigosa, and accounts of his hedonistic frolicking at the southern tip of Baja California while Los Angeles shivers under an onslaught of cold winter rain far from his mind. In fact, the machinery of daily Los Angeles’ workings always seems far from Villaraigosa’s easily diverted mind. And what is hedonistic frolicking without the able-bodied presence of the King of Hedonism, Charlie Sheen?
Badboy actor Charlie Sheen opened a new rooftop hotel bar down in San Jose del Cabo last night. Ordinarily, who would care? Certainly not us. But Sheen tweeted a photo of himself this morning with an arm around a visitor from Los Angeles: the mayor. “Antonio Villaraigosa knows how to party!” Sheen tweeted. The grand opening party featured guitarist Slash and included other visitors from the states. The bar and hotel are located in the port of Los Cabos near Cabo San Lucas on the southern tip of Baja California.
KPCC News, which I think first picked up on the tweet, says that a Villaraigosa spokesperson confirmed el jefe is in Mexico and will return on January 2.
And if we needed more distasteful proof than local public radio and blogs can provide, we are also treated to a scintillating photograph of the Los Angeles he-duo striking a juvenile pose ensconced within their little tropical playpen over 900 miles from “home base.”
I am tired of this city. It’s a big phony piece of artificial plastic crap and the cultural and political “leaders” do absolutely nothing to uphold the slightest iota of dignity.
Speaking of dignity, what on Earth is with Tony V’s tan line? Or was he wearing an undershirt? Regardless, I vomited a little when I saw it.
These are the Los Angeles “Haves.”
These are the greasy-haired scumbags with open collars and flamboyant, superficial embraces and white smiles that feast on the steady supply of women, drugs and money in order to substantiate and excuse their dearth of character and stoicism. These are boys in men’s bodies. Lest anyone fixate on my alleged misogyny, I’d like to note that the poor quality of the modern female does not occur in a vacuum. Behind her character, carefully enabling and rewarding it, is the collective rambunctious modern male persona of immaturity, vanity, shallowness and impulsiveness. These are the Haves, these are the men of industry and government. They are fixated on “Game” and they spout all the Game BS but there is little spine or substance to their fanciful business trips or weekend club-hopping. The extroverts with no soul drive the social calendar and on the other side, the Have Nots fade into the shadows.
Los Angeles is a cruel city for the Have Nots, for all the “men” have staked out the sandbox.