The Drug War Hits Home

Kind of a weird day. My mom got a whole bunch of calls this morning from her friends asking if she had "heard the news." Apparently a Mexican journalist from Durango with our last name was kidnapped and executed by Los Zetas.

Almost every Antuna can be traced back to a few villages in Durango, including my grandfather. She called him up, and from what he can gather, the man was definitely a relative. Not one of my close ones -- likely he's a second cousin once or twice removed and none of us had ever met him.

But still, it's a little weird to know that your family isn't immune to bullets from the cartel wars. I'm proud of my Mexican heritage. I treasure it. I love our language, our art, our culture, and our values. That being said, I'm glad my grandfather chose to immigrate to the U.S. I know how fortunate I am to live in a country with an imperfect but functional justice system, and that I grew up in safety. I'm also glad to know that I come from good blood, that my family is on the right side of all this, and that there are people who are braver than me and willing to stand up and speak the truth.

I'm a pretty liberal guy, but I'm conservative about drugs. Stuff like this is why. Prove to me that not a dollar from a drug's sale is going into the hands of thugs and criminals in Mexico, Colombia, Afghanistan, and Laos, and frankly, I don't care what you put in your body or what you do with your spare time. But for as long money from a "harmless" drug like pot funds corruption and killings, I don't believe that people have an inalienable right to get high.

People talk about Baghdad being scary. People talk about how the prospect of an al Qaeda attack keeps them up at night with worry. Frankly, all the Islamists in the world are chump change compared to the narcotraficantes of Mexico. A few clerics twisting the words of the Quran and shouting "Death to America" don't scare me a bit. Osama bin Laden kills in the name of God. These guys kill in the name of money. And that's what really scares me. "God" can get people to fly an airplane into a building once. Money can make people kill every night.

I'm off my soapbox. I don't know why this really got to me, but it did. R.I.P. Jose Bladimir Antuna Garcia. I never knew you, but you died a martyr's death trying to make sure people knew the truth. I take pride in knowing that we share blood, and I hope that if God one day grants me salvation, I can finally meet the man who stood up and did what was right -- because it was right.

En el nombre del Padre y del Hijo y del Espiritu Santo. Amen.

EDIT (9:12 A.M.) Associated Press story as run by the El Paso Times