An essay about the origins of my Posadas project and the relevance of paranormal phenomenon and myth to the socialist project.
This was the second time on the trip my UFO interest had put me in an awkward spot. In Montevideo, where I was able to visit the secretary of one of the last remaining Posadist parties, I stayed at bed-and-breakfast operated by an employee of the national theater. I told him about my project, and he told me he was a believer. His brother, he said, was a victim of the luz mala. It had happened when his brother was very young, riding his horse home through the Pampas one night. The light chased him, and although he escaped, he was never the same afterwards. He tried to put the event behind him, but true to the tradition, he was cursed, and took his own life in his twenties. The surviving brother was certain that reality was not what it seemed, subscribing to what I gathered to be a David Icke-inspired theory that the elite were interdimensional demons. They were not aliens, he clarified, whom he believed to be a sympathetic element in a cosmic hierarchy with advanced conceptions of order and justice. Earth’s ruling class were instead terrestrial bloodsuckers, perhaps from some crevice of the hollow Earth, who have reduced the fate of Latin America to its finances, the future of 700 million people yoked to the strength of their currency against the dollar.