In the ‘Chew, Don’t Swallow’ community kitchen, a pitched battle has broken out. Photo Cuartoscuro
Speaking about the arts and sciences uniting in a common goal, Captain Marcos of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN) referred to how, “on the day after, in a fictional community, indigenous peoples, explorers, artists, and scientists who survived the storm have gathered” and “together they face the challenge of starting over and rebuilding the world from its foundations.”
In the twelfth of a series of statements released on Friday night, he added: “A pitched battle has erupted in the ‘Chew, Don’t Swallow’ community kitchen because, supposedly, someone from the Applied Sciences collective applied the laws of physics to catapults, using spoons and pumpkin jam as ammunition as examples.”
The projectiles, he added, “hit artists and scientists alike, provoking the logical response. Something like the classic ‘cake fight’ used in cinematography. At the height of the mutual bombardment, Doña Juanita intervened, brandishing a giant frying pan and an XXXL-sized ladle, calling for calm, reasoned dialogue, and the unilateral non-application of tariffs.”
He noted that “the last time he was seen, the Captain was barricaded behind pots and griddles, wearing a ‘Predato’ model protective helmet (armor +100, mobility -500, nothing visible). The soundtrack (‘Yo no fui’ by Consuelito Velázquez) was played by the musicians. Later reviews would call this attempt at war ‘The Pumpkin Candy War. The Beginnings.’ (See: Part Six: Applied Sciences. Oct 2024).”
Marcos continued: “They’re all still in the dining room, arguing about who started the skirmish that splattered pumpkin jam on the tables, walls, and ceiling. Although at the beginning of the debate, science and art regarded each other with suspicion, the mutual accusations were contained; it wasn’t until the theater students pointed out, ‘Of course, the childish spoon catapult trick. That’s for kindergarten,’ that the conflict escalated.”
He added: “Applied science took the blow and, without hesitation, responded, ‘I think I hear a slight accusatory tone in what you’re saying. Indeed, the spoon catapult is childish. On the other hand, it fits well with that pictorial trend (he said: ‘pictorial’; not ‘artistic’ or ‘graphic’, he said ‘pictorial’) of throwing colored inks at the canvas or the wall and then making a mess. I think they call it ‘salad art.’”
The Captain stated that “there was no laughter, not even the hint of it; instead, there was a back and forth of withering glances (intention 1000; intended damage 100; actual damage -40). And, at once, both sides kicked the tables and took cover behind their respective fortifications. Since there were no longer any projectiles at hand, they remained expectant, as if unsure whether to continue insulting each other or take concrete action.”
Taking advantage of the impasse, he said, “Doña Juanita—still armed with a frying pan and ladle—asked innocently: ‘Where is the Captain?’ It was as if a bolt of lightning had broken through the darkest night. From a squint, the warring parties began to exchange hypotheses and theories. Although no one could remember the exact location where the Captain had been in the midst of the fray, someone pointed out that, before the battle began, he had seen the Captain… next to the cauldron with the pumpkin jam. After that, nothing. Or maybe there was, but it was back to the detailed account of the projectiles fired and the logical response.”
He stated that “the accountant asked to speak and said, ‘We have a crime, and I think we know who the criminal is.’ ‘The suspect,’ clarified the one who flies, who had watched too much ‘Law & Order, SVU.’ The musicians, always attentive, improvised—with the absurd comb—the tune of that police series: tan, tan. Someone suggested: ‘Raise your hand if you think the Captain is guilty.’ Another voice interrupted him: ‘Calm down, four Ts, you’re not in a Welfare court. He’s innocent until proven guilty.’”
Doña Juanita, he continued, “burst out laughing and declared: ‘Are they going to blame the captain for something? Good luck with that.’ Let’s do what they do here, summon him, have him come forward and declare what he has to say. We have to find him and tell him to come,” the sculptor remarked. Doña Juanita, who seemed very amused and eager to enjoy what was happening, asked sarcastically, ‘And who’s going to put the bell on the cat?’”
Marcos also said that “on every road, someone stirs up rubble and memories, and someone is waiting to be found. And that’s what it’s all about: seeking and finding truth and justice. Because tomorrow often nests in the most unexpected corners, and always in the hearts of searchers.”
Original article by Elio Henríquez, La Jornada, April 4th, 2025.
Translated by Schools for Chiapas.