What we learn from
history
is that people don't learn from history.
I
Tuco considered the corruption of...
no, the economy of influence.¹
This shift in favor giving,
in persuasion, grieved him.
The honor of considering the good
was gone
it seemed.
Now the dry season spreads across the
hills
that Tuco knows. He watches for wisps of smoke.
Fears he will see it
drifting
then building
to a rising column
dark, swirling,
roaring across the dry grass.
Killing cactus and mesquite
slowly.
The counties struggle to gather water rights
away from each other.
The cities and towns conspire
for growth
close at hand.
And dribble development out
across the bare, dry desert.
They then wonder why the suburbs burn.
"The cost," they cry, "oh, the cost."
Never seeing the other source of that cost,
the economy of influence
pitting each
against its neighbor.
|