abolitionmedia<p><strong>Afterword Thirteenth Part: An In-Style Trial</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Previously:</strong></p><p>In the wake of the so-called “War of the Squash Jam. The Beginning,” the band of scientists and artists had teamed up (oh, I know, but it’s fiction) to find and punish the culprit. Without any basis whatsoever, they foundd the Captain to be the alleged culprit and summoned him to appear at an assembly of “some parts of the whole” and answer for the irresponsibility of his actions. Upon receiving the summons, the handsome Captain denied all charges and, advised by a wise and incorruptible beetle lawyer (self-styled “the lawyer-judge-prosecutor-jury-executioner of the paradoxical, persistent, plural, neat, pure, populous and popular people”, -look for it in the June ballot-), prepared his defense. Artists and scientists called themselves jurors, and the same beetle would play the triple role of prosecutor, judge and defense attorney. Meanwhile, the “Applied Sciences” group was testing the strength of various types of ropes or ties, so that they would support the slender figure of our grieving Captain. On the horizon loomed the figure of … wait a minute … is that a gallows?</p><p><strong>-*-</strong></p><p>Thanks to an ingenious drone (in reality it is a small wooden plane whose propeller is driven by a twisted rubber band up to its maximum stress, and that has on its belly -of the drone, it is understood- a little mirror), created by the scientific collective following some plans of the Captain, it was possible to have an aerial view of the assembly gathered in the former dining room “Tacostumbras,” now renamed “Justice is Blind, that’s why it has not arrived”.</p><p>As the handsome defendant arrived, the jury listened to the arguments of the prosecutor who, with abundant hand and foot movements, emphasized his plea: “The questions to be asked, ladies, gentlemen and others of the jury, are whether the future deceased (one more time) had a motive for the crime, whether he had the means to perpetrate it, and whether he enjoyed the opportunity to carry it out.”</p><p>The lawyer lit a pipe, which, oddly enough, resembled one that the soon-to-be deceased reported as stolen a few days earlier. Through the smoke of the pipe, reminiscent of the fog that often populates Baker Street in London, England, he continued:</p><p>“I shall now proceed to provide you, by means of indisputable reasoning, with the answers to these outstanding issues:”</p><p>Who would think of waging a battle with squash jam? There was rice, beans, and even chayote. Rice and beans would have ensured a “shotgun” effect, or the “cluster” bombs used by the U.S. and Israeli armies against the civilian population. The well-cooked chayote would have produced an effect similar to that of Squash jam. In addition, according to research, there would have been at least a dozen wild avocados at the time.</p><p>So, one could deduce a certain hostility of the criminal towards that horrible creature (the squash, we understand). It is to the knowledge of this kind, laudable and combustible community (editor’s note: the jurisconsult reiterates his lousy prosody and syntax), that the accused does not hide his animosity to the perverse and detestable fruit of the curcubitacea. In fact, in the distant and recent past, there are numerous writings documenting this.</p><p>But if that were not enough, I have kindly brought, as a witness for the prosecution, the representative of a group, collective or team that calls itself “<em>Comando Palomitas</em>,” (Popcorn Command) formed by girls and boys of dubious moral quality and recognized irresponsibility. As you know, children do not tell lies, unless it is about school, homework, games, mischief, pranks and, in short, their whole life. Since we are dealing with minors, I will avoid the use of high-flown words, rudeness and linguistic vulgarity. Veronica is present here, the spokesperson and leader of said group.</p><p>“Listen Veronica, is it true that the Captain doesn’t like ‘it’?” the lawyer winks at the jury and mutters, “and by ‘it’ I mean that forbidden, malevolent, wicked word. The s-q-u-a..”.</p><p>Veronica interrupts: “Nobody likes ‘it’.” The Captain is right. That’s why we support him as the <em>Comando Palomitas</em> that we are. Do you like it?“</p><p>”Of course not!” protested the judge. Then, pulling himself together, the prosecutor added: “err, I mean that’s not the point. We just want to specify that the Captain hates ‘it’ Is that so?”</p><p>Veronica nods as she sadly sees that a good part of the chamoy candy has stained her blouse and her mommies are not going to be happy.</p><p>The judge-prosecutor applauds; and the prosecutor-judge, with the discretion learned in front of authority in any “monta choques” situation, pretending to shake Veronica’s hand, passes her a chamoy candy in the shape of a lollipop.</p><p>After dismissing Veronica, who considered that a chamoy candy was not enough payment for her statement, the prosecutor continued:</p><p>“So we have the motive, let’s go to the means. Did the culprit, I mean, the accused, have the means to commit the crime that, unfortunately, forced our beloved artistic and scientific community to double their efforts in washing their clothes? Leaving aside their obvious bad taste in their attire and their end-of-the-world outfits, is it fair that these luminaries of the already very small world of arts and sciences have struggled to remove the squash stains, that is to say, of “it”?</p><p>It is also evident that, given his proximity to Doña Juanita here present (Doña Juanita raises her eyebrows and threateningly brandishes the frying pan, the prosecutor-judge swallows saliva and sweats copiously) …, whom no one could even suspect of being an accomplice to the serious crime at hand, the accused could know that there would be a large pan or casserole, whose contents would be abundant in sweet “it”, that is to say, squash.</p><p>Getting a spoon, even a wooden one, was no problem. And, well, the friendly little people were gathered to consume the food. Ergo: the potential victims were “within spoon shot in catapult mode”. Therefore, it must be concluded that the accused had the necessary means to carry out the horrendous crime.</p><p>As for the timing, well, we know that that day it was the nefarious Captain’s turn in the kitchen. And that, although he excused himself, claiming I don’t know what about a bicycle and everlasting energy, he was able to know the menu that would be served.</p><p>Ergo: the aforementioned delinquent had the motive, had the means and enjoyed the opportunity to carry out his perverse and Machiavellian plan.</p><p>In conclusion: you will agree with me that the accused is guilty of the crime of squash jam, with intent, premeditation and advantage.</p><p>I therefore ask that he be found guilty on all charges, including that of having induced our mother Eve to succumb to the temptation of artificial beauty suggested to her by the biblical serpent – by means of a tik-tok of makeup and wardrobe, which includes an app that corrects, online and for a modest subscription, “quod natura non dat, Helmantica praestat”, which in common Castilian means “it doesn’t matter the lack of physical beauty and grace, but the lack of a suitable digital application to make amendments to nature.” Because, as it is well said in the corridors of jurisprudence: “Everything analogue vanishes in the digital,” which can be translated as “it matters not the judge, but how much it costs,” or what is the same “with money, the dog dances, people.” And, well, our mother Eve coaxed it out of our father Adam and the poor guy had nowhere to turn. And, because of that unfortunate incident, here we are: with one foot in the storm and one in the day after.</p><p>Having established the above, I do not ask for the accused to be sentenced to death by drowning or hanging. Although it is true that it would be a pity not to use that magnificent gallows that my scientific and engineering colleagues were kind enough to erect. But think that it could well serve as part of the stage for the next CompArte gathering, to which, I am informed, all the scientific people will have free access, if they can prove it… and those who do not, as well.</p><p>Nor do I ask that he is expelled to a Nation, no matter how orange he may appear. Among other things, because there are no more nations, no more constitutions or laws to be violated to please and give ratings to the foreign enemy; no more surveys, no more stale nationalisms of cake and cudgel with which, in the past, a certain political party celebrated its miseries and took selfies distracted by the emotion.</p><p>Much less do I demand that he be condemned to eat squash soup for a week, because there is no need to overdo it either.</p><p>The popular and populous possible people’s lawyer paused to generate suspense… and to try to recall his parley.</p><p>“I ask therefore that the defendant be found guilty of all charges there are and ever will be. But that he be sentenced to cover my fees without excuse or pretext, in cash and not through those fraudulent bank apps, nor in a convenience store.”</p><p>A murmur ran through the courtroom, I mean, the assembly. But not because of the sudden twist that the populous and well-liked public people’s lawyer had given to his speech, but because rumor had it that Marijose and the Común taqueria gang had their turn in the kitchen and speculation was rife as to whether the menu would have <em>tacos al pastor, steak, suadero, carnitas </em>or<em> campechanos</em>. On the top of their stand was the motto of such vital sustenance: “<em>With a good sauce, even rocks, compa.</em>”</p><p><strong>-*-</strong></p><p>In a sky empty of stars, the moon does not sleep. Her belly aches. Not few are the pains that overwhelm her. Not few are the tears with which the clouds accompany her. Although sometimes, only sometimes, there are smiles that grow below, because there are past and present stories:</p><p>At the foot of an old olive tree, rejuvenated in flowers, a girl listens attentively to the words of her grandmother. Carefully she keeps them in her heart and memory. It is not a story she hears; what she receives is a flag:</p><p>كان هناك في العصور القديمة<br>المقاومة والتمرد والتمرد<br>دائم، دائما دائما</p><p>(“There was, in the antiquity of time….<br>Resistance and rebellion<br>Always, always”)</p><p>More here, in a closed room; or in a prison without walls and with only fear, cruelty and complicity as guards; or underground with others; or among a pile of ashes; or in a morgue of the SEMEFO; there are those who wait for someone to open the door of memory, there are those who nurture the hope that, whoever seeks, will find them.</p><p><strong>-*-</strong></p><p> Who cares about that old Palestinian woman and that little girl? Who cares about those ignored missing people in the geography called Mexico?</p><p>Well, at least we do, the Zapatistas, the littlest ones.</p><p>Because when we search, we find ourselves.</p><p>(to be continued…)</p><p>The Captain<br>April 2025</p><p><a href="https://enlacezapatista.ezln.org.mx/2025/04/06/treceava-parte-un-juicio-a-modo/" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Original text published at <em>Enlace Zapatista </em>on April 6th, 2025.</a><br>Translation by Schools for Chiapas.</p><p><a href="https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/?p=18212" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" translate="no" target="_blank"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/?p=</span><span class="invisible">18212</span></a></p><p><a rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" class="hashtag u-tag u-category" href="https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/tag/chiapas/" target="_blank">#chiapas</a> <a rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" class="hashtag u-tag u-category" href="https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/tag/ezln/" target="_blank">#ezln</a> <a rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" class="hashtag u-tag u-category" href="https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/tag/mexico/" target="_blank">#mexico</a> <a rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" class="hashtag u-tag u-category" href="https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/tag/north-america/" target="_blank">#northAmerica</a> <a rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" class="hashtag u-tag u-category" href="https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/tag/zapatista/" target="_blank">#zapatista</a></p>