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On the morning before I arrived in Zitácuaro, a beautiful hill town in the western Mexican state of Michoacán, the dismembered body of a young man was left in the middle of the main intersection. It was what people call corpse messaging. Usually it involves a mutilated body—or a pile of bodies, or just a head—and a handwritten sign. "Talked too much." "So that they learn to respect." "You get what you deserve." In the photograph in the Zitácuaro paper, the victim's arms and legs and torso all lay separately, impossibly, in the street. I didn't see a sign, but the message—terror—was clear enough, and everybody knew who left it: La Familia Michoacana, a crime syndicate whose depredations pervade the life of the region. I wanted to ask the police some questions, but I was advised not to let the police know I was in town. They might call los malosos—the bad guys—to tell them I was there asking questions.
Mexico's President, Felipe Calderón, declared war—his metaphor—on the country's drug traffickers when he took office, in December, 2006. It was a popular move. Although large-scale trafficking had been around for decades, the violence associated with the drug trade had begun to spiral out of control. Calderón's first act was to send sixty-five hundred soldiers and federal police into Michoacán. Large deployments to other hot spots, including Acapulco and the border cities of Tijuana and Ciudad Juárez, followed. Fifty thousand soldiers and twenty thousand federal police are now in the streets and countryside, but the bloodshed and disorder have grown worse. More than twenty-three thousand people have died in Mexico's drug war since Calderón's declaration—more than three thousand so far this year.
La Inseguridad, as Mexicans call it, has become engulfing, with drugs sliding far down the list of public concerns, below kidnapping, extortion, torture, murder, robbery, corruption, unemployment, and simple fear of leaving the house. The big crime syndicates—known as cartels, although they don't actually collude to set prices—still earn billions from the production, smuggling, and sale of drugs, but they have also diversified profitably. In Michoacán a recent estimate found eighty-five per cent of legitimate businesses involved in some way with La Familia. Analysts have begun describing Mexico as a "failed state," which is premature at best, but "state capture" is not too strong a term for the realities of power in an increasing number of places. That was my impression, certainly, in January and February in Michoacán.
"They're a second law," a schoolteacher in Zitácuaro said of La Familia. "Maybe the first law. If you need to collect a debt, you go to them. They'll charge you a fee, but you'll get your money. The police work for them. When they arrest people, they don't take them to police headquarters but to La Familia."
The schoolteacher, who asked me not to use his name, was talking about the local police. People were also afraid of the federal police, he said, and of the Army, and of the Navy. All are deployed in Zitácuaro. But none of these other forces appeared to be working directly for the bad guys. In fact, the local headquarters of the federal police had been attacked in July by La Familia fighters using assault rifles and grenades. I passed that building, which is still bullet-pocked, windowless, scorched, and abandoned, one morning in a taxi. My driver agreed that there had been an attack. He added that two federal officers had been killed.
I asked who the attackers were.
His face went blank. He eventually mumbled, "Los otros." The others.
I had seen a video of the attack on YouTube: armored S.U.V.s, commandos firing AK-47s, all in broad daylight. La Familia had been incensed, it was reported, by the arrest of one of its leaders, and then by a bloody, failed attempt to spring him from jail in Morelia, the state capital. They had attacked federal police stations in eight Michoacán cities. Two days later, it emerged that they had also kidnapped, tortured, and murdered twelve federal agents, leaving the bodies in a pile beside a highway with a handwritten sign: "Come for another. We will be waiting for you here."
Among Mexico's drug-trafficking organizations, La Familia is the big new kid on the block. It first gained national attention in September, 2006, when five severed heads were rolled onto a dance floor at a night club called Sol y Sombra, in Uruapan, Michoacán. The sign left at that scene: "La Familia doesn't kill for money, it doesn't kill women, it doesn't kill innocent people—only those who deserve to die. Everyone should know: this is divine justice."
La Familia's corpse messaging often mentions divine justice. Its soldiers are said to be required to carry Bibles or, alternatively, a self-published volume of epigrams by Nazario Moreno González, one of the gang's leaders, who is also known as El Chayo, or El Más Loco (the Craziest). El Chayo is inspired, in turn, it has been reported, by the muscular Christianity of John Eldredge, an American evangelist whose self-help best-seller "Wild at Heart" is reportedly studied, in Spanish translation, at La Familia training camps.
In addition to their quasi-religious fervor, La Familia's public broadsides often have a political cast. In a paid advertisement published in two statewide newspapers, La Familia posed the question "Who are we?" Its own lengthy answer began, "Workers from the Tierra Caliente region in the state of Michoacán, organized by the need to end the oppression, the humiliation to which we have constantly been subjected by people who have always had power."
Lately, a faction of La Familia has taken to signing the messages left at decapitation scenes "La Resistencia." A senior American official in Mexico City told me, "La Familia is looking more and more like an insurgency and less like a cartel."
But the drug-running unit in La Familia's portfolio remains robust. Its major product lines are marijuana and opium poppy, grown mainly in the Sierra Madre del Sur, mountains in southwest Michoacán; crystal methamphetamine, produced in clandestine laboratories in and around those same lush, rugged mountains; and cocaine. The coke comes mostly from Colombia and Peru by sea, entering Mexico through the many isolated bays and beaches on Michoacán's coast or at its busy industrial port, Lázaro Cárdenas. The great majority of the drugs go north, to the United States, where La Familia has a formidable distribution network. In October, 2009, American law enforcement conducted a two-day sweep against the network that yielded three hundred arrests in nineteen states, more than seven hundred pounds of methamphetamine, sixty-two kilograms of cocaine, nearly a thousand pounds of marijuana, more than a hundred vehicles, a hundred and forty-four weapons, and $3.4 million in U.S. currency. Robert S. Mueller, the director of the F.B.I., said of the sweep, "We have dealt a substantial blow to a group that has polluted our neighborhoods with illicit drugs and has terrorized Mexico with unimaginable violence."
Three months later, in Michoacán, I heard no mention of the big American drug bust. Few people seemed to know of it. None considered it a significant blow to La Familia. Three million dollars was not that much money to them.
As for the insurgency taking place in Michoacán, the violence varies from region to region, and occurs for different reasons. In Tierra Caliente, a swath of remote farming valleys, separated from the coast by the Sierra Madre, La Familia definitely has a social base. The Army and the federal police sent in by Calderón are seen as hated occupiers. In Zitácuaro, at the eastern end of Michoacán, La Familia is the hated occupier.
We were approaching Apatzingán, the main town in Tierra Caliente. Lookouts for La Familia had been noting our passage, calling in our license-plate number, for the past twenty miles, according to my companions, a regional official named Veronica Medina, as I will call her, and Isaac Reyes, a journalist for an online agency. "Luckily, we're with the Queen of the South," Reyes said. He meant Medina. "Queen of the South" is the title of a best-selling Spanish novel about the drug trade in Mexico, and Medina is, among other things, a successful businesswoman from Apatzingán and a well-known politician. She also has a certain leonine glamour and regal impatience. Reyes's little joke meant that he hoped her stature in the region might help us avoid trouble.
Military roadblocks slowed our progress. Pickup trucks were being searched by government soldiers in black ski masks, glowering motorists frisked and questioned.
"Nobody carrying drugs or arms would use this road," Reyes said.
"They're just taking money," Medina said. "And Lipe can't understand why his forces are not loved."
"Lipe" was Felipe Calderón, the President. Medina removed the "Fe"—which means faith in Spanish—as a kind of evangelical jibe. She's a passionate member of an opposition political party.
A soldier waved us by.
The road ran northwest through fertile bottomland: sorghum, maguey, melons, mangoes, lemons. Commercial agriculture boomed in the valley around Apatzingán in the postwar years, benefitting from government irrigation schemes, attracting investment from the U.S. and thousands of migrant laborers. Then state agricultural policy changed, and the export market for the area's produce collapsed. Its wide fields are littered today with abandoned packing sheds and rusted rail spurs. Like the rest of Michoacán—which, from a population of less than five million, has sent more than a million emigrants to the U.S.—and much of Mexico, Tierra Caliente began exporting labor north.
But the region's excess capacity was also channelled into its next boom industry: drugs. Small farmers in the wild sierra south of Apatzingán had grown marijuana and opium poppy for generations. Their harvests were sold to middlemen in Tierra Caliente. As the drug market in the U.S. grew, many displaced workers became dope farmers or smugglers, and the idled produce trucks found illicit new cargo. Then some of the small drug lords in Michoacán became big drug lords after the main cocaine routes north from South America, which in the nineteen-eighties ran through the Caribbean and south Florida, were shut down by American law enforcement. Coke started flowing through Mexico and Michoacán. Of still greater impact, at least in Tierra Caliente, was the development of a local methamphetamine-manufacturing sector. The precursor chemicals for cristal, as it is called, come from Asia, primarily through the port at Lázaro Cárdenas, and the profit margin on meth is arguably the highest in the trade. Again, a successful crackdown in the U.S., this time on meth labs, gave a major boost to Mexican narcos, who set up labs in anonymous industrial areas and remote rural posts all over the country—including, it is believed, hundreds, if not thousands, of simple, high-yield operations in the rugged valleys of southern Michoacán.
"You see that auditorio?" Medina asked. She was pointing at a tall yellow pavilion beside a village primary school. "La Familia built that. Also the volleyball court." She pointed to a bullring on the other side of the road. "They offer the people fiestas in there. Those fiestas are very popular. Or they were. They've stopped giving them now, I think, because of Lipe's campaign."
"Lipe's campaign" was Calderón's war on drug traffickers. According to Medina, it has ruined the economy in Tierra Caliente and shattered the community's social peace. La Familia had provided employment, insured public security, and helped the poor. "If you were sick and had no money, they'd take you to the hospital and pay for medicine. If you couldn't afford tortillas, they'd buy some for you." The heavy deployment of troops and federal police in the area had forced La Familia to lie low. So who would look after the poor now? The government? Medina gave me an arch look, daring me to answer the question. No, it would not. La Familia had even been obliged to close a group of rehabilitation centers it ran for alcoholics and drug addicts. Local police were poorly paid and, therefore, incompetent and corrupt. When La Familia was in charge, nobody stepped out of line. You didn't even need to lock your door at night. "If they find you drunk in public, they'll take you off, pull down your pants, and beat you with a long stick with holes in it."
Such violence sounded so benign and neighborly that I felt odd asking about the kind of violence that La Familia is better known for. A few days earlier, six decapitated men had been left on a road just outside Apatzingán. All had large "Z"s carved in their torsos. One report I saw interpreted the "Z"s as evidence that the murders were committed by the Zetas, a much feared gang, with whom La Familia had been feuding. I thought it more likely that the "Z"s meant that La Familia had killed the men because they were Zetas, or at least had wanted to brand them as such in death. An intelligence officer in Morelia who specializes in organized crime also thought that it was a La Familia hit. The Zetas had already been driven out of this area, he said. The killings had probably been part of a factional dispute inside La Familia. They were worrisome, however, he said, because the victims had not been young men. It looked as if the fathers of fighters had been targeted, which could lead to a lot of bloody score-settling.
None of this seemed to interest the Queen of the South. When we arrived at her house in Apatzingán, she showed me a stack of local newspapers, flipping them over to display the back pages. Nearly all Mexican papers carry la nota roja—the police news, always heavy on gory photographs—in the back. Bloody carcasses were everywhere, which seemed to be Medina's point: that narco-violence is now a constant. And this doesn't contradict her contention about La Familia and public order. Decapitations were entre ellos—among themselves.
I asked about extortion of business owners.
In Apatzingán it had been a problem, she acknowledged, but that had been when the Zetas were running things. Once La Familia took over, she had talked to the group's local leaders, in her official capacity, and helped them see that forcing small businesses to pay protection would strangle the local economy. Unlike the Zetas, who were mercenary gangsters from outside Michoacán, La Familia had local roots and loyalties. They could take the long view. The extortion stopped. Kidnapping for ransom also stopped.
Both were still going on in Zitácuaro, I said.
Medina frowned, nodded, shrugged. "They are seen as rich there," she said.
Medina's house was spacious and cool, on a pleasant downtown street. We met her mother, who was frail and gracious, and her two grown sons, one of whom was a physician. The other was a lanky hipster. He was taking a break, he said, from college. I asked him about life in Apatzingán, and he said, in English, with a knowing smirk, "Information is money." I gathered he wanted to be paid to talk. His mother, who is divorced, had mentioned that one of her sons was rebellious and that she had taken him to La Familia for disciplining. After his second chat with La Familia, she said, she had no further trouble with him. I guessed she wasn't talking about the doctor.
Reyes and I set off for City Hall. Al though he lives in Morelia, he once edited a newspaper in Apatzingán, so people recognized and greeted him in the crowded streets. At City Hall, we found a communications official for the municipality, whom I will call Elena Torres. The town's mayor had been arrested last year in a federal sweep during which ten Michoacán mayors (including Zitácuaro's), along with eighteen other officials, were jailed, on suspicion of working for La Familia. Torres, a young woman who also produces a weekly newspaper, greeted Reyes warmly. Her office was jammed with people. On the wall was a portrait of Michoacán's governor, Leonel Godoy, but no sign of President Calderón. Being in government in Michoacán today entails choosing sides. Godoy and Calderón belong to rival parties, and last year's federal sweep through the state was conducted with no heads-up to Godoy, who has called the military campaign in his state "an occupation." Two of his top officials, including the chief adviser to the state attorney general, were among those jailed. Even the Governor's half brother, a congressman, went into hiding. He has yet to surface. (Most of those jailed have since been released.)
Torres led me from her office onto a quiet balcony overlooking Apatzingán's central plaza. "We used to see the leaders of La Familia here all the time," she said, lighting a cigarette and nodding toward the sleepy, shady plaza. "They would come through on horses in the evening. El Chayo rode a Percheron with a braided mane. That horse was worth three million pesos. They threw huge parties, with beautiful floral arrangements. Guest artists. Everybody came and danced. El Chayo is very gallant, very polite. Not too tall. He has a strong presence."
Medina, too, had rhapsodized about El Chayo. (I noticed that they didn't call him El Más Loco.) She and Torres used the same word to describe him: guapo. It means "handsome," but in context it meant, I thought, that he was not a brute but a man of honor, not a greedy gangster but a generous, if stern, comandante. In the "Wanted" posters I had seen, he had a traditional look, with a wide black mustache. He looked like someone who could have ridden with Zapata. Medina said La Familia disapproved of young men who came back from the U.S. wearing hairnets and huge, low-hanging pants, cholo style. "They tell boys to keep their hair short and walk like a man, not a clown." One boy, she said, would not listen, so they killed him. On our way into Apatzingán, we had passed a long, unlovely business strip, redolent of new money—hot-tub showrooms, mini-malls, shiny taverns with names like Hotel Bar Las Vegas and Stefany's Men's Club. "All this is Chayo's," Medina had said. That seemed unlikely as a matter of legal title but, figuratively speaking, probably true. El Chayo is part outlaw, part landlord. He is not the paramount leader of La Familia, which is reputed to be run by a council, but he is the cacique—the boss—of much, if not all, of Tierra Caliente. And, in a narco version of an old Mexican revolutionary tradition, he stands against an unpopular government.
Torres drew on her cigarette. "The federales have stopped all that now," she said, meaning fiestas in the town center. She looked at me steadily. "But everybody here has sympathy with La Familia Michoacana."
Or, if they didn't, I thought, they probably kept quiet. I asked about the federales.
"There was a big group of federal police staying there," she said, pointing at an elegant old hotel across the plaza. "Fifty, sixty guys. They weren't popular. They were always around, with their guns. People were afraid to go near the hotel. Then there was a big attack, in July, when La Familia was attacking the federales all over Michoacán. But the gunmen they used here obviously weren't from here. It was nighttime, and they fired probably three hundred rounds, all into the upper floors of the building next door! They had the wrong building. Fortunately, it was empty and there were no casualties. The federales left the next day. Now they camp at the airport."
Torres showed me, on her computer, photographs she had taken of a recent demonstration in a nearby town, Nueva Italia. A peaceful-looking crowd was marching on a main street carrying banners denouncing the federal police. "The Government Is to Protect Not to Impose," one sign said. Another: "Enough Already of Federal Police Abuses." She showed me pictures she had taken of a house smashed up and robbed in the course of a police search. That incident—one of many, she said—had triggered the public protest.
La Familia has staged demonstrations against the government's security forces in other parts of Michoacán. A senior gang leader arrested in Morelia last year, Rafael Cedeño Hernández, was reported to be in charge of organizing public protests. Cedeño also ran a string of drug-rehabilitation clinics called Gratitude. At the time of his arrest, he was carrying a credential identifying him as a "permanent observer" for the State Commission on Human Rights. If only to complete his odd profile, he claimed, according to the police, to have recruited and trained nine thousand La Familia soldiers in 2008.
If people don't trust the police or the courts, crime groups will fill those roles. A single mother who lives in Morelia told me proudly, "I have a number I can call." She meant she knew somebody in La Familia. "It's not El Chayo, but it's his people," she said. "If I have a problem, somebody threatening me, somebody trying to steal my car, I just call, and they send a police officer, a woman. The police work for them." Once, she said, she had a major problem—a man trying to defraud her over a piece of land. She called La Familia, and they sent a team to visit the fraudster. "They told him he had so much time to pay me. He paid, and he won't bother me again." She did not say how she might be called upon to return these favors. But her grateful relief for this protection against thieves and other threats was clear and understandable.
In Tierra Caliente, the dependence on La Familia extends, for many people, to employment. The Army claims to have destroyed more than four hundred methamphetamine labs in the region. If that figure is correct, that's a lot of jobs lost. People know, of course, that cristal is illegal. They also know that it's addictive and destructive. In fact, La Familia first made its name locally as a fierce opponent of meth use in Michoacán, hounding addicts and executing dealers. That the organization later became Mexico's largest producer of cristal is one of its more vivid self-contradictions, and an irony lost on no one. The gang's claim that all meth production today is for export may not parse ethically, but well-paid jobs in labs and smuggling will always be prized in a poor region.
The Mexican military is fighting a dirty war, not only in Michoacán but throughout the country. Soldiers are not trained to do police work—to investigate and gather evidence—and the Army has proved ineffective against determined, adaptive criminals. The Army's relatively good institutional reputation has been tattered, moreover, by its deepening involvement in the murky, multisided war against—and among—the cartels. Even in Juárez, the bloodiest drug battlefield in Mexico, residents have been calling for the Army's withdrawal. Human-rights abuses have multiplied inexorably. Mexico's National Human Rights Commission has received nearly four thousand complaints of Army abuses since Calderón took office. There is no way of knowing what percentage of the Army's alleged victims were even involved in narco-trafficking. This bloodletting is not entre ellos. The impunity is general.
The overwhelming growth of organized crime in Mexico in the past decade is often blamed on multiparty democracy. From 1929 until 2000, the country was basically a one-party state, under the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI). Drug trafficking flourished, but its practitioners enjoyed stable relations with officialdom. As George W. Grayson, an academic expert on the Mexican drug trade, writes, "Drug dealers behaved discreetly, showed deference to public figures, spurned kidnapping, appeared with governors at their children's weddings, and, although often allergic to politics, helped the hegemonic PRI discredit its opponents by linking them to narco-trafficking." Anti-drug campaigns were periodically conducted, usually at the behest of the United States, but the penetration of government, including law enforcement, by organized crime made these campaigns farcical. Even the director of the National Institute to Combat Drugs (the Mexican D.E.A.), an Army general whom Washington's then drug czar, General Barry McCaffrey, called "a guy of absolute, unquestioned integrity," turned out to be working for the Juárez cartel. But the deep symbiosis of organized crime and an oppressively powerful state limited the independence of the gangsters and made it unnecessary to settle every difference with violence.
Then, in 2000, Vicente Fox, of the opposition National Action Party (PAN), defeated the PRI candidate for the Presidency. An unprecedented democratic transition took place, but an enormous power vacuum developed as venerable patronage networks dissolved throughout Mexico. Organized crime filled that vacuum. Politicians, adrift in the new multiparty sea, now needed campaign funds. The drug lords were happy to help. Gang conflicts over territory and trade routes, no longer refereed by the PRI, became more lethal and frequent. The Pax Mafiosa, such as it was, collapsed. The Fox administration arrested many narco soldiers and a couple of kingpins. It also lost a kingpin, Joaquín (El Chapo) Guzmán Loera, the leader of the Sinaloa cartel, who escaped from a maximum-security prison in 2001. (Guzmán, who continues to run Sinaloa, made Forbes's most recent list of the "World's Most Powerful People," ranking forty-first, above Nicolas Sarkozy and Hugo Chávez.) But the post-PRI state was a jumble of unmeshed parts, and the government just lost ground.
Fernando Gómez Mont, the Interior Minister, runs the political side of Calderón's war on drugs. He believes that organized crime only became more visible with the fall of the PRI. "It's the same as the Soviet Union," he told me. "Under the authoritarian regime, many hidden interests were managed." (People often liken the Fox years in Mexico to the Yeltsin years in Russia.) The great surge in violence across Mexico is a result, he said, of criminals' "losing institutional cover." Now, he said, "they have to arbitrate their own differences with their rivals."
But Gómez Mont, who was a wealthy lawyer before entering public service, sees the government's basic task as "reversing a process of the weakening of institutions"—the judiciary, the police, the countless opaque bureaucracies that have always had their price. And the fact that he and his colleagues talk incessantly about "rebuilding" suggests that they know how deeply damaged the government has been in recent years. He also sees the Army's deployment as essential to this task: "The armed forces have the strength to give us the space and time." He is dismissive of complaints about the military's treatment of civilians. "The armed forces are involved in a profound modernization process," he said. "They are trained in human-rights theory."
In truth, nearly everyone understands that the military is too blunt an instrument for law enforcement. "But drug trafficking and drug traffickers are a challenge to the national security of Mexico," Arturo Sarukhan, the Mexican Ambassador to the U.S., told me. "We need to transit from this being a national-security problem to it being a law-and-order problem, the way it is here in the U.S.," he said. "We're not there yet." Gómez Mont interprets the fact that La Familia is killing federal police officers in Michoacán as an indication of increased police honesty. "It's cheaper to corrupt than to kill. So why are they killing? Because the corruption process is not going the way they want it to." He attributes the popularity of La Familia in regions such as Tierra Caliente to a mass "Stockholm syndrome."
The Mexican public does not believe that the government is winning the war against the cartels. In a recent poll, fifty-nine per cent said the narcos were winning; only twenty-one per cent thought the government was making progress. The narcos use jets and helicopters, speedboats, and even submarines. The wealth and weaponry of the drug gangs dwarf the resources of the state.
While most people don't seem to blame President Calderón personally for La Inseguridad, they are punishing him politically. In congressional elections last year, Calderón's PAN was beaten badly by the PRI, which now controls the federal legislature and may well take back the Presidency in 2012. Would the return of the PRI mean a return to relative peace, as many people seem to hope? It's possible, but not because the old comprehensive pyramid of PRI power—what Mario Vargas Llosa once called "the perfect dictatorship"—can be restored. It cannot. But neither is one-party rule the most effective form of government for controlling organized crime. Indeed, the countries that have had the most success in controlling or reducing it (including the U.S.) have all been vigorous democracies.
Edgardo Buscaglia, a professor of law and economics at Columbia University, specializes in organized crime, and has advised the United Nations and the World Bank. For the past several years, he has been working in Mexico, and he thinks that the Calderón government is on the wrong track. "It's not how many troops you deploy or capos you kill," he told me. "It's the assets. Businesses confiscated. Civil and criminal asset forfeiture. You can detain fifty-three thousand people, as they have since 2003, but if you still have corrupt judges and prosecutors—a captured state—you aren't doing anything. The conviction rate is 1.8 per cent."
Organized crime depends on extensive public-sector corruption, and, with its wealth, insures it. The only anti-crime measures known to be effective attack both that wealth and that corruption. Mexico has not made a serious start on either front, according to Buscaglia. Prosecutors lack nearly everything—resources, laws, training, financial intelligence, judicial independence—that they need to begin. "To declare war on organized crime" in Mexico's situation, Buscaglia says, "you need to declare war on your own society." A frontal military assault on organized crime, unsupported by a financial strategy and an assault against political corruption, never succeeds, according to Buscaglia, because of what he calls "the paradox of expected punishment." Organized-crime groups under such assault simply devote more of their resources to arms, violence, and the expansion of their defensive ring of public corruption. Jailed or slain leaders are quickly replaced, usually after a sanguinary round of jockeying among the second tier. Replacing jailed or slain street soldiers is never a problem in a country like Mexico, where an estimated seven million young people, known as Los Ni Ni—because they don't go to school or have jobs (ni estudia ni trabaja)—are considered ripe for recruitment into the lower ranks. Indeed, the outlaw appeal of defiant narcos among young people generally cannot be discounted, given the long-term popularity of narcocorridos—danceable pop songs glorifying the exploits of Mexico's "Most Wanted."
The lineup of Mexican cartels is fluid. Sinaloa, with its base in the eponymous Pacific Coast state and operations throughout Mexico and beyond, is the largest and probably the most stable. It is always looking to expand its territory—the phenomenal level of recent violence in Juárez is largely attributable to a Sinaloa takeover attempt, but drug lords have been operating out of Sinaloa for generations. On Mexico's east coast, the Gulf cartel has ruled for nearly as long. Two powerful groups, based in Tijuana and Juárez, dominate the two busiest border-crossing regions in the north. Then, there is the Beltrán Leyva group, which has a sprawling, non-contiguous territory. Its longtime leader, Arturo Beltrán Leyva, was killed by the military in December, and other groups are now trying to grab some of the "plazas" that Beltrán Leyva has traditionally controlled. La Familia, for instance, appears to be making a move on Acapulco.
The Zetas are a special case. They started out as high-end bodyguards—U.S.-trained Special Forces commandos enticed to desert in the late nineties by Osiel Cárdenas Guillén, who was then the leader of the Gulf cartel. (He is now in a U.S. prison.) The Zetas brought military expertise to narco-trafficking. They earned a reputation for savage violence and efficiency, and their early recruitment was boldly public, with banners hung over highways, complete with a number to call, urging soldiers to defect and receive "a good salary, food, and medical care for your families." They offered loans and life insurance, and an end to mistreatment and rations of ramen. Those who joined were paid on a scale unimaginable in their previous lives. The Zetas eventually outgrew their role as the Gulf cartel's armed wing. They went to work with other groups, as trainers or freelance mercenaries, and then for themselves. They are now a major criminal group, at war with various old allies, including La Familia and the Gulf cartel. They are also working closely with the 'Ndrangheta, Italy's formidable Mafia, according to "Contacto en Italia," a recent best-seller by Cynthia Rodríguez.
In Michoacán, at the end of the PRI era, organized crime was dominated by a midsized group known as El Milenio, which was allied with Sinaloa, and did extremely well in the early methamphetamine period. The Gulf cartel, leading with its spearpoint, the Zetas, invaded Michoacán around 2001. In one version, the Gulf leadership had been approached by restive ex-Milenio lieutenants, including future La Familia leaders like El Chayo, who invited the Gulf group to Michoacán to help them overthrow their former leaders. In another version, it was a Gulf-cartel initiative, a westward business expansion merely abetted by the restless lieutenants in Michoacán. In any event, El Milenio was defeated by the Zetas, who began running Michoacán, in their brutal way, on the Gulf cartel's behalf.
La Familia arose from various sources. The main element was the ex-Milenio group, which had been schooled by its allies, the Zetas, in unconventional warfare, and later turned against them. There were also home-guard units and local vigilantes—farmers and workers in Tierra Caliente—who resented the oppressive reign of the Zetas. A rising tide of cristal addiction, as the Zetas cultivated an internal market for their most profitable product, increased their local unpopularity. La Familia stepped from the shadows in 2006, declared war on outsiders, and by 2008 had driven the Zetas from most of the valuable plazas in Michoacán. The group's broadsides even denounced Chapo Guzmán and Sinaloa, whose leaders answered with threats to annihilate the upstart La Familia.
In reality, all the main crime groups had to share the booming Michoacán container-port city of Lázaro Cárdenas, a plaza too valuable for any one group to hold exclusively. La Familia, despite its nativist, puro michoacano self-defense rhetoric, had vast amounts of drugs it needed to move to the U.S., which meant negotiating passage rights through the territories of groups to the north. Seizing plazas from the Zetas was such a success, moreover, that stopping at the Michoacán border proved impossible. La Familia moved into the nearby states of Guerrero, Morelos, Guanajuato, Colima, Querétaro, Jalisco, and Mexico, evicting other crime groups, and established a presence in Mexico City, which no single syndicate can control but where every self-respecting cartel must be represented.
La Familia's evangelical fervor, weird self-righteous piety, and penchant for insane violence turned out to be a potent combination far beyond its provincial base. In May, 2009, the Mexican attorney general called the group the most dangerous cartel in the country, citing its exceptional cruelty, its success at corrupting officials, and its leading role in the production of synthetic drugs. La Familia was by then in business with Chapo Guzmán in areas of shared interest. Ramón Pequeño García, the anti-drug chief of the federal police, told me that La Familia has developed profitable contacts in China, India, Bulgaria, and Holland for both methamphetamine production and distribution. President Obama has named La Familia a significant foreign narcotics trafficker, which makes it illegal for American citizens to have any contact with the group, and in February, 2010, the Treasury Department formally identified seven La Familia leaders, including El Chayo, as drug kingpins, increasing the criminal penalties for Americans caught associating with them.
Although still derided in some circles as hicks ("the hillbilly-hero moonshiners of Mexico's Appalachia," as one senior American diplomat in Mexico put it to me), La Familia and its exploits—hanging anti-Zetas banners over the roads in eighteen cities in four states in one night; running a nationwide new-car theft ring that hijacks whole bulk shipments—seemed to be front-page news nearly every day after I arrived in Mexico City, in January. But Pequeño García, of the federal police, told me that La Familia was actually getting desperate, that the cartel was losing the war on the ground in Michoacán. He recited a long list of capos who had been arrested, including El Chayo's first cousin. "The police presence there has drastically restricted their freedom of movement," he said. "It's much more difficult for them to move drugs on the highways now or to travel in armed convoys."
The Bush Administration warmly supported the Calderón government's Army-first approach to confronting narco power, and President Obama's policy has essentially been the same. (Obama has hailed Calderón as a "hero" for his anti-drug efforts.) The United States has an obvious, first-order interest in the stability of Mexico, and in the struggle there against narco-trafficking. Ninety per cent of the cocaine sold in the U.S. comes through Mexico. Tens of billions of dollars in drug money is believed to cross the border heading south each year, much of it in bulk cash shipments. More than eighty per cent of the weapons that have been seized in Mexico and that could be traced originated in the U.S. The outrage of many Mexicans over this avalanche of military-grade firearms is matched only by their impotent anger over the bottomless U.S. demand for illegal drugs. Our appetites, our wealth, our laws seem to be conspiring to destroy their country.
Mexico was traditionally never a major recipient of U.S. foreign aid, but that changed in 2008, with the passage of the Mérida Initiative, a multiyear $1.4-billion program to help Mexico and some of its neighbors fight transnational crime. Under Mérida, the U.S. is sending equipment, including Black Hawk helicopters and high-tech border-inspection gear, to Mexico and, in a broad effort to help modernize and professionalize Mexican law enforcement, providing training to thousands of police officers, customs officials, prosecutors, judges, prison guards, and other public-security personnel.
Extraditions of criminals to the U.S., once a politically sensitive subject in Mexico, have been rising fast. In 2009, there were a hundred and seven. The real test of trust and coöperation between the two countries' security institutions, though, is intelligence-sharing. Many American officials are wary of it. Some have been burned in the past. For all the American security agencies working in Mexico today—besides the D.E.A., the F.B.I., and the C.I.A., the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives is now fully engaged, trying to teach modern gun-tracing—no American officer has arrest power in Mexico, and direct military assistance remains unthinkable. As the crisis deepens, though, so does U.S. involvement.
In Juárez, where the violence keeps hitting new peaks, the latest plan is to embed American intelligence agents in Mexican federal police units. This would have seemed too dangerous to try until recently, but the massacre of fifteen people, including ten teen-agers, at a birthday party in late January, and then the murder of three people connected to the U.S. Consulate there in March, got the attention of top officials in both countries. President Obama expressed outrage at the killings. President Calderón made several trips to Juárez, promising new forms of aid. And ten days after the Consulate killings, Hillary Clinton led a delegation to Mexico City that included Robert Gates, the Defense Secretary; Janet Napolitano, the Secretary of Homeland Security; Dennis Blair, the director of National Intelligence; and Admiral Michael Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. They met with Calderón and promised more aid.
Calderón, on a visit to Juárez the previous week, had been confronted by demonstrators. In a city where more than twenty-six hundred people were killed in drug-related violence last year, and where more than nine hundred have already died this year, the demonstrators were not protesting against the cartels and their ubiquitous hit men. They were demanding the withdrawal of the Army.
To check out La Familia's claim to be driving cristal addiction from Michoacán, I went to Zamora, a midsized city in the northwestern corner of the state. La Familia was doing some vivid social messaging there. Two days before my arrival, and some weeks earlier, groups of flagellants had appeared on the roads around Zamora—men with their shirts pulled up or off and their backs whipped raw. The men chanted and carried placards denouncing themselves as thieves and rapists. Some of the placards were signed "La Familia." In the past, the corpses of methamphetamine dealers had been left around Zamora with signs condemning the cristal trade and invoking "divine justice."
I found a drug-rehabilitation center in a scruffy neighborhood. My appearance caused a stir in the street, partly because I arrived in a police cruiser. I had gone to the city police after failing to find a rehab clinic through other sources, including local journalists, and although the cops seemed astonished when I walked into their station, they had agreed to help me. The sergeant who was acting as my guide studied the crowd outside the clinic, frowned, and said that they could not leave me in this barrio. They would wait.
The clinic was like a cut-rate private jail. It was one big gloomy locked room, with maybe a hundred beds and extremely stale air. I got a tour from a trusty, Raymond Ramírez. He had a shaved head heavily tattooed with gang signs that I recognized from California. He had lived, he told me, in the Salinas Valley for sixteen years. "There's a lot of gang-related around Zamora," he said, in English. Ramírez, who said he was an addict himself, had been delivered to the clinic by his aunt, which was typical—families checked in their addicted members, who were forbidden to leave the locked room for a minimum of three months. I could see, in the shadows, desperate-looking men, some of whom were watching me closely. I asked Ramírez about his habit.
"I was smoking weed," he said. "Sometimes I used to fuck with crack. The most popular drugs here are coke and crack."
I asked about cristal.
"They took away the meth," he said. "Couple years ago."
"Who did? The police?"
Ramírez shook his head, looking half amused. "No," he said. "Not the police."
(The clinic's director disagrees. He says there is still a meth problem.)
I asked my police escort to take me to a nearby town, Jacona, where I had heard there was another clinic. It was a low-roofed place on a hillside. Inside, I found a beefy, watchful, fair-haired man, who said his name was Armando. He was the clinic director. He took me into a tiny office. There was a small black-and-white monitor in one corner showing a large, noisy meeting in progress. It was the patients, Armando said, having one of their three mandatory daily meetings. I could hear shouting, both from somewhere down the hill and, more tinnily, from the monitor, which Armando kept an eye on.
"We work with tolerance," he told me. "Not with beatings or mistreatment. We don't destroy their personalities."
I hadn't asked about mistreatment. But I had heard that there were very tough rehab centers in Michoacán, including some run by La Familia, which specialized in destroying personalities and then in recruiting obedient, religious, fiercely sober gang soldiers from among them.
"We can't solve problems alone," Armando said. "We need help from God. The patients have a three-day encounter with God. We use a twelve-step program. It's the fourth and fifth step."
I asked about the most common addictions.
"Alcohol," he said. "I'm an alcoholic. Drugs. Rock. Glue-sniffing. Meth."
Was methamphetamine, then, a problem?
"No. Not now. The meth problem has disappeared. Los narcos won't allow it."
I was distracted by a gaudy crucifix he was wearing. I had been told that one way to recognize La Familia members was by their self-ornamentation. Their standard gear included such a crucifix and a bracelet made from a rosary. I glanced at Armando's wrist. There was the rosary bracelet. He denied any connection with La Familia.
Before I got to Zitácuaro, I had a certain idea of how organized crime took over towns, provided me by Lázaro Cárdenas Batel, who was governor of Michoacán from 2002 to 2008—the period when La Familia rose to dominance. I met him in Washington, D.C., where he now lives. "There were these incredible scenes in small towns all over Michoacán," he said. "I would get a call afterward from the mayor. Ten pickup trucks full of armed men had arrived at the municipality. The local police could do nothing. They were outgunned. But the criminals were very respectful. They would tell the mayor, 'We want to work here. There will be no trouble, no crime, no drunkenness, nothing.' Then they would take over the town, and enforce their rules. If a boy hit his mother, they would punish him and dump him in the plaza for people to see. If he did it again, they would kill him. It was a strategy to gain popular sympathy, and it worked." Mayors are typically paid for their hospitality. It is plata o plomo—silver or lead. You take the money or we shoot you and your family.
This composite sketch described a very small town, though, and it left out a lot. In Zitácuaro, a municipality of a hundred and forty thousand, there are many more moving parts than a mayor, some frightened cops, and a band of outlaws rolling up in Chevrolet Suburbans. There is a substantial business class, a banking sector, old money, new money—all there to be milked, but each in its own way. Loan-sharking was widespread in Zitácuaro. La Familia promised to put a stop to that, and did. Forestry is a regional industry, poorly regulated. La Familia confronted loggers, legal and illegal, and "fined" them for deforestation. The mobsters were suddenly environmentalists. "La Familia is very adept at collecting taxes," one of the former governor's advisers told me. "Much better than the Treasury is."
But the first thing to do was impress the right locals that La Familia was serious. There was a prominent family, the Orihuelas, active in business and politics in Zitácuaro. Juan Antonio Ixtláhuac Orihuela, a boyish prodigy known simply as Tonio, was elected mayor of Zitácuaro at twenty-seven. One of Tonio's uncles is said to have employed a young man named Noé Ayala García. He was from a poor family. He was bright and ambitious, and, some say, involved in illegal activity. La Familia cut off his head. The head was placed, along with the head of another young man, in front of Tonio's uncle's car dealership. The message to the Orihuelas was clear.
Last year, Tonio was arrested, on suspicion that he worked for La Familia. But he was released in March, after ten months in prison and a successful appeal, and he is now back in office as mayor.
For straight extortion, the best targets were the town's nouveau riche. People called them los fresas, the strawberries. There were enough of them in Zitácuaro to constitute a new class, la fresada. They drove new cars, wore flashy clothes, did elaborate home renovations. They were easy to kidnap, and usually able to pay well to get their sons and brothers back alive. They learned eventually to keep their Mercedeses out of sight. But if they had successful businesses there was really nowhere to hide. The family who owned the main local camera shop and film-developing franchise—known behind their backs as los Kodak—were hit hard, I was told. It was impossible to know for sure, however, since nobody who had been kidnapped and had survived would talk to me. And almost nobody, it seemed, ever went to the police. In Mexico, ninety-six per cent of kidnappings are never reported, according to a recent study by a risk-consulting firm. It is a matter, people believe, best handled privately, as the kidnappers prefer. The police might be involved on the other side.
Everyone I talked to in Zitácuaro seemed to know someone who had been kidnapped. I interviewed two teachers, at different schools. Both had had family members kidnapped. The pattern, in Zitácuaro, seems to be that, once a ransom demand is met, the victim is released, more or less unharmed. "But first, before they let you go, they might ask you for another name," one of the teachers said, his face pinched with disgust. "Somebody you know whose family has some money, who would be good to kidnap."
Were there precautions one could take?
"Everybody has to vary their routines, all the time," he said. I found it hard to picture how a schoolteacher could significantly vary his or her daily routine. "You just have to," he insisted. "They're watching."
The other teacher, an extremely polite older man, told me about the kidnapping of his nephews—first one, whom the abductors held for two weeks, and then his brother, grabbed when he came to pay the ransom. The second nephew was held for a month. Their father borrowed money all over town to ransom his sons. "Those bad people have more arms and the courage to do anything," the older teacher said. He refused to let his nephews talk to me. Some people could not raise ransom money and saved themselves by going to work for La Familia, he said.
Then, there were all those who simply never returned. The older teacher had heard about a gruesome recent discovery in a nearby reservoir: fifty bodies with rocks tied to them. "They were people whose families didn't pay." He was afraid that his niece's brother—a lawyer who had disappeared after a conflict with La Familia—might be among them.
I was unable to confirm this reservoir story. It struck me as the sort of worst-case rumor that gains traction in an atmosphere of extreme uncertainty and mistrust. I hoped that was the case.
Both teachers talked about La Familia's recruitment of their older students. "They're looking for two kinds of people," the first teacher said. "Rough, violent kids from broken families, that's one. The other is good students, especially those who are good at computer work. They are thinking about the future. They want to be able to research properly the assets of the people and the businesses they extort. That's the new model."
Recruiting young people into gangs has been made easier by the Great Recession, which has hit Mexico harder than it has the United States. Remittances from family members in the U.S. have fallen sharply. Indeed, fewer immigrants are coming to the United States, putting demographic pressure on a society and an economy that have, for at least two generations, been able to direct much of the country's unemployed youth northward.
A student in Zitácuaro, talking about kids at his school who become involved with La Familia, told me, "Los narcos have nice trucks, nice houses, pretty girls, money, power. People fear them. Everybody wants what they have."
La Familia also has its secret-society mystique, which all crime groups have to some degree, but which is exaggerated by the macabre spiritualism espoused by El Chayo and his ilk. La Familia cells reportedly have regular retreats, cultlike motivational seminars in which they seek to indoctrinate and inspire new members. (I found no one in Zitácuaro who considered the aggressive Christianity of La Familia to be sincere. That was all just "propaganda," people said.)
"But moralism is also part of their recruitment," the older teacher said. "They tell young people, mostly boys, but also girls, that their intention is to stop crime. They say, 'We are the authorities now, and we're going to teach you to live together.' The hypocrisy is incredible. But some of my students have gone to work for La Familia, in desk jobs. Now that the criminals are over the government, they can assign government jobs. I have an ex-student who is with them now and has a good government job."
A few Zitacuarenses are making their way up through the cartel ranks, and townspeople like to gossip about who's doing well on the dark side. Another way the gang is threading itself into the fabric of Zitácuaro, I heard, was through marriage. Eligible young gangsters were courting the daughters of some of the city's leading families, creating valuable new alliances. Public-sector contracting in Michoacán is widely seen as controlled and directed by La Familia. People in Zitácuaro told me that it has become hard to make a living without mob connections.
I finally found someone in Zitácuaro who had been kidnapped and was willing to tell me about it. I'll call him Enrique Delacruz. Wiry, sociable, in his early thirties, he worked as an ecology officer for the municipality. He was kidnapped from a restaurant on the outskirts of the city.
"I was having lunch with three colleagues," he said. "Four guys marched in, with pistols in their belts. They didn't try to hide it at all. One got behind me and stuck a gun in my back. They ordered us to leave with them. I don't know what the other people in the restaurant thought. They had three pickup trucks waiting outside. They drove us to an isolated area, somebody's land, and their leader, a guy we call Lagrimita, started shouting at me and hitting me."
Lagrimita means "little teardrop." Lagrimita's beef with Delacruz concerned some land near Zitácuaro's reservoir. It seemed that a local developer wanted to build there, and had hired La Familia to help him acquire the property. The particular project seemed far-fetched—the local topography is hilly and unsuitable for development—but nobody was interested in Delacruz's land-management ideas. They wanted him to stop responding to the complaints of smallholders in the area that their crops were being destroyed and their trees cut down. The mobsters had seen Delacruz out there, in his official capacity, taking photographs of the damage. What was more, his grandparents owned a plot near the reservoir which they were refusing to sell. He should tell them to sell.
It turned into a long, harrowing afternoon. At some point, Delacruz managed to call the most powerful person he knew in La Familia, a guy from Zitácuaro called El Tapa (the Lid). El Tapa did not answer, so Delacruz left a very brief message—"They're going to kill me"—before the last five pesos of credit on his phone card ran out.
Delacruz and I and two of his friends were working on a bottle of whiskey in Delacruz's parents' finished basement, a room he called his "bunker." We drank a round to Carlos Slim. Slim, who was recently named the world's richest man, owns most of Mexico's telecommunications network. The privatization of phone service, which was supposed to lead to market competition, led instead to Slim's virtual monopoly. His company, América Móvil, charges some of the highest cell-phone rates among developing countries. My credit seemed to run out daily, no matter how much money I put on my phone, and people always had something rueful to say about how we were all working just to line Carlos Slim's pockets.
That afternoon with the mobsters, Delacruz told Lagrimita that he could not help him. In that case, Lagrimita said, he was a dead man. At dusk, the convoy headed back to Zitácuaro. They went to an old railway bridge on the edge of town. The bridge crosses a deep, dark, narrow barranca. It is a notorious execution spot. Delacruz's colleagues were kept in the trucks while he was marched out onto the bridge. Lagrimita went to tie Delacruz's hands behind his back, handing his pistol to an associate. Delacruz, who is a Tae Kwon Do enthusiast, wrapped Lagrimita in a bear hug. They struggled at the precipice, with Delacruz screaming that if he was going off the bridge Lagrimita was going with him. Now, at the moment of high drama, the cell phone of one of Lagrimita's gunsels rang, with El Tapa's custom ring tone, and the gunsel answered. It seemed that the comandante had listened to Delacruz's message and had deduced who his assailants were. El Tapa wanted to speak to Lagrimita. Lagrimita, released by the hysterical Delacruz, went to the phone. He was told to desist. The gang were exceeding their orders. The developer wasn't paying them enough for this.
"Then you know what they did?" Delacruz asked me. "They let us all go, but first they took me to a supermarket. They said I should buy my wife a present, because she had been calling all day and I never answered. So I bought her some flowers." Delacruz's wife was relieved to see him. "But I started crying," Delacruz said. "And I couldn't stop kissing our baby."
It wasn't a typical kidnapping story. There may, of course, be no such thing. And it occurred to me only much later that there was anything odd about Delacruz's having had El Tapa's phone number. Yes, he was a government official, and El Tapa was a capo in La Familia, and having "links" with organized crime was illegal for everyone, let alone government officials. But Delacruz and El Tapa had gone to school together. In Zitácuaro practically everyone their age knew El Tapa. And it was clearly prudent to stay in touch, in case something ever came up. I know I'd keep him on my Christmas-card list. Welcome to state capture.
My hotel kicked me out, because it was butterfly season. Zitácuaro is in monarch country—the small patch of mountains in south-central Mexico where hundreds of millions of monarch butterflies migrate each winter from the United States and Canada, blanketing whole areas of fir forest. Tourists from Mexico City and Guadalajara had apparently booked the entire hotel for the weekend. I found another hotel.
Ambling through Zitácuaro's manicured nineteenth-century plaza on a cool, sunny morning, your first thought would not be "Reign of terror." A small blond girl, trailing her parents, is driving happily past elegant cast-iron benches on a miniature plastic Jeep Wrangler. A well-dressed gentleman with a big gray mustache sits, arms folded, white Stetson in place, at one of the stands set back under shade trees, placidly having his boots shined.
But an old green Volkswagen Beetle inches past the plaza, a loudspeaker roaring scratchily from its roof. The woman's voice shouting on the tape loop has the tenor of angry political protest, but actually she is selling newspapers, chanting headlines without inflection, with no hint of comprehension. "Cuerpo Descuartizado"—carved-up body—is one of the items in her spiel.
Kidnapping and murder are ordinarily state crimes, not federal crimes, which means that, in a captured city like Zitácuaro, they are often not investigated. If La Familia wants something done about a killing, it will take care of it. If La Familia takes an interest in public security—the way people say it did formerly in Apatzingán—then the streets may be made safe. But there is no indication that the group takes such an interest in Zitácuaro.
I heard a story from a man in his early thirties. He was walking home one night, he said, through the quiet streets of the old town center. From inside a parked van, he heard a woman screaming. There were angry male shouts. Someone was obviously being beaten. He stopped, unsure what to do. Then the van's door flew open, and he could see two men pummelling a young woman. He hurried away. Half a block along, he heard the van's engine start. It drove past him, then pulled across the sidewalk. The men got out. They swore at him. He told them that he had seen nothing, that there was no problem. There was a problem, they said. They started beating him. They broke his ribs. They clubbed him in the face with a gun. They left him unable to walk.
That was last September. By the time I met him, the man said he was fine. All healed, he said, physically and psychologically. He indicated a scar under his left eye. "My souvenir," he said, with a small smile. I didn't believe he was fine. He was an arts-minded son of Zitácuaro—soft-spoken, modest, ridiculously good-looking. He had been a local rock star in his youth, and was now working on a book of photographs of the city. He had begun his story by telling me, "It's not our town anymore." He also didn't strike me as the type of person who, in a world not turned upside down, would walk away from a young woman who was being beaten.
One more Zitácuaro story:
A brother and sister came to own a piece of family land. It was wide, sloping pasture and some woods, a little rancho with a view of Zitácuaro. From the land, the city looked like an Italian Renaissance painting, on its hilltop with its church towers. There were cattle that came with the property. The brother got the half with the farmhouse. The sister's half was reached by a dirt road that ran down past the old railway bridge that the narcos sometimes threw people off. Her husband, whom I will call Don Miguel, took more interest in the rancho than she did.
Don Miguel was a retired schoolteacher who, late in life, had gone to law school. He came from a poor rural background, but he had managed, in the nineteen-sixties, to get a good education at a school for future teachers. Some of his classmates and friends became leftist guerrillas, taking up arms against the PRI government in a revolution that never went anywhere. Don Miguel found his vocation in teaching the children of campesinos. By the time he became a lawyer, in his fifties, he was a respectable bourgeois townsman. But much of his law practice was pro bono. His clients included indigenous communities in and around Zitácuaro, people who haven't caught a break since the Spaniards arrived in Michoacán.
He spent as much time as possible at the rancho. He raised lambs and built sheds, fishponds, and even a primitive swimming pool, for his kids and grandkids and the children and grandchildren of his friends. He scooped tilapia from the ponds, cleaned them in the grass, and grilled them for his guests over an open fire. He and his friends, some of them neighboring subsistence farmers, always had some project going. Don Miguel decided to build a tree house for the quinceañera, the fifteenth birthday, of his eldest granddaughter, who lived with her mother in another city. His vision of the tree house, which was going to be a surprise, grew more and more ambitious. By the time I saw it, it had indoor plumbing, and it was still not finished.
But things had gone sour with the brother-in-law. His marriage was in trouble, and he had started behaving erratically. Without discussion, he sold all the cattle one day. Don Miguel and his wife let it pass. But then her brother resolved that the entire rancho should be his. He filed suit in a local magistrate's court. His suit had no legal basis, and was annulled. But the brother-in-law was now in a fury. He stopped coming to the rancho. He let the house on his side fall into disrepair. His half of the pasture filled with thistles. Mediation attempts failed.
Meanwhile, La Familia had come to Zitácuaro.
One day, a convoy of three gleaming new pickup trucks appeared at the rancho. Don Miguel and a friend were working on his granddaughter's tree house. The convoy drove straight across the pasture to where the two old men were working. Don Miguel could see his brother-in-law in one of the trucks, riding next to a man whom everyone knew as El Gato (the Cat). His real name was Hilario López Morales. He was La Familia's plaza boss for Zitácuaro. The other trucks were full of men with rifles. El Gato and his men climbed out. El Gato approached alone.
The brother-in-law had, of course, hired La Familia to help him get his sister's half of the rancho. El Gato, a middle-aged man with a severe manner, asked Don Miguel, using a respectful form of address, for his side of the story. Don Miguel gave it to him. From the truck, the brother-in-law could hear Don Miguel's narrative. After a few minutes, he leaped from the truck to raise an objection. El Gato turned to him and said, "I told you to stay in the truck." El Gato was clearly, Don Miguel thought, a former soldier. He asked Don Miguel to resume. He listened closely. The brother-in-law, unable to contain himself, jumped out of the truck again. El Gato turned. Now, in a low voice, he said, "I won't tell you again." Don Miguel took that as a death threat. The brother-in-law got back in the truck. Don Miguel has a formidable authority when he speaks. El Gato heard him out. Then his gaze ranged across the rancho—the fishponds, the tree house, the thistle-filled pasture, the collapsing farmhouse. He seemed to make a decision. He thanked Don Miguel for his time. He and his convoy left.
Don Miguel and his family have heard nothing more. They tried to contact El Gato, through a lawyer who has worked with him, to make sure that the property dispute is settled, at least as far as La Familia is concerned. They were unable to reach him. Then, in mid-April, there were news reports that El Gato had been arrested in Mexico City. So he was no longer running Zitácuaro. But will a new jefe honor, or even know about, his predecessor's judgments? It seems unlikely.
Nothing violent happened in the matter of the rancho. But the family rift is now permanent. The brother-in-law went too far. If anything does happen to Don Miguel, his sons will avenge him. They know they can't fight La Familia. But they can, if it comes to that, kill their uncle.
A group of us made the most of a sunny winter afternoon. The children chased butterflies. Don Miguel caught and grilled fish, tossing bits to his dogs. Banda music played from a car radio, the door thrown open. The beer was cold. A gnarled, silent neighbor came by to eat with us at a rough plank table. Don Miguel called him Profesor. One of Don Miguel's grown sons danced quietly in the sun, his thoughts clearly far away. The granddaughter's tree house, they said, was almost finished, which was good, since she would be fifteen very soon. ♦


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A balanced diet and an active lifestyle can help all kids maintain a healthy weight. But for kids with diabetes, these things are even more crucial because weight can influence diabetes, and diabetes can influence weight.
Weight issues can affect kids and teens who have type 1 or type 2 diabetes.
Undiagnosed or untreated, type 1 diabetes can make people lose weight. In type 1 diabetes, the body stops producing the hormone insulin, which is needed to use glucose, the main type of sugar in the blood.
Glucose comes from the foods we eat and is the major source of energy needed to fuel the body's functions. In type 1 diabetes, the body can't use glucose properly, so flushes the glucose (and the calories) out of the body in urine.
As a result, kids who develop type 1 diabetes can lose weight despite having a normal or increased appetite. Once they're diagnosed and treated, their weight usually returns to normal.
Excess body weight can occasionally be a problem for people with type 1 diabetes as well. Some are overweight before they develop the disease. And some may become overweight after diagnosis if they don't maintain healthy eating and exercise habits.
Developing type 1 diabetes isn't related to being overweight, but because lots of body fat can make it harder for the body to use insulin properly, overweight kids with type 1 diabetes also can have trouble controlling their blood sugar levels.
Most people are overweight when they're diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Being overweight or obese increases the risk for developing type 2 diabetes, and if someone who already has type 2 diabetes gains weight, it will be even harder to control blood sugar levels.
People with type 2 diabetes have a condition called insulin resistance. They're able to make insulin but their bodies can't use it properly to move glucose into the cells. So the amount of glucose in the blood rises. The pancreas then makes more insulin to try to overcome this problem.
Eventually, the pancreas can wear out from working overtime and may no longer be able to produce enough insulin to keep blood glucose levels within a normal range.
People with insulin resistance are often overweight and don't exercise very much. But weight loss, eating healthier foods and controlling portion sizes, and getting exercise can actually reverse insulin resistance. For people with type 2 diabetes, doing so makes it easier to reach target blood sugar levels and, in some cases, the body's ability to control blood sugar may even return to normal.
People who don't have diabetes can have insulin resistance, but they're at a higher risk for developing the disease. For overweight people without type 2 diabetes, losing weight and exercising can cut their risk of developing the disease.
Being at a healthy weight is good for everyone — parents included! When kids with diabetes reach and maintain a healthy weight, they feel better and have more energy. Their diabetes symptoms may diminish, their blood sugar levels may be easier to control, and they may be less likely to develop complications from diabetes, like heart disease.
A doctor can judge whether someone's weight is healthy by using the body mass index (BMI). If your doctor recommends that your child lose weight to control diabetes, a weight management plan may be prescribed. Even if your child's BMI is in the healthy range, the doctor can help you create a meal and exercise plan for your child.
Your emotional support can be an important part of helping your child get to a healthy weight. Overweight kids can have low self-esteem or feel guilty about having diabetes. Try to stay positive. Don't talk about feeling "fat" or "thin" — talk about being "healthy." Help your child understand that all healthy people need to actively manage their weight — even you.
And remember that kids pick up on parental attitudes about weight and eating — after all, you buy the food and cook the meals. By buying healthy foods and cooking nutritious meals, you'll provide the tools that your child needs to get to a healthy weight.
Being a good role model for your child is key. If you're overweight, talk to your doctor about beginning a weight management program so you can set a good example.
The diabetes meal plan already helps guide what your child eats, so reaching a healthy weight may simply mean adding more physical activity. Getting more exercise will make your child feel better and help with diabetes and weight control, so encourage your child to get moving every day.
Reaching and maintaining a healthy weight can be a challenge for some kids and teens, just as it can be for adults. Here are some common problems to watch for and discuss with your doctor:
By following the doctor's advice about food and exercise, your child can reach and maintain a healthy weight. Kids who reach a healthy weight feel better and find that diabetes management is easier. They feel like they're more in control of their diabetes, their bodies, and their health.
If either you need help along the way, just ask — your diabetes health care team can offer tips and advice on coping with weight-control challenges.
Reviewed by: Steven Dowshen, MD
Date reviewed: August 2013
© 2019 Brenner | Site Policies & Statements
The information on this Website is for general informational purposes only and SHOULD NOT be relied upon as a substitute for sound professional medical advice, evaluation or care from your physician or other qualified healthcare provider. If you have a medical problem or a health-related question, consult your physician or call Health On-Call at 336-716-2255 or 1-800-446-2255.

subset: commoncrawl


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my desktop PC using ati radeon hd 4350, when i installed ubuntu 11.04 and running application for checking and install propertary VGA driver (
jockey-gtk) then my 11.04 screen resolution, activating desktop effect compiz,etc works well.
but the problems comes after i upgraded ubuntu from 11.04 to 11.10 , i can't login to my account but works by using guest account. and my 11.10 not detecting ati radeon hd 4350 although i reinstall then reactivated the propertary driver.
Thanks for any suggestion and help.


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A TCU student is planning to sue everyone and everybody after being branded with his fraternity's letters. That student's name: Amon Carter IV. Hey, don't the Horned Frogs play in Amon G. Carter Stadium?
Carter went on a ski trip with his Kappa Sigma brothers over winter break, and were joined by the girls from Tri Delta. ("can't get laid? Try Delta!") The Milwaukee's Best and jungle juice flowed freely, and, like at any good social, the branding iron came out.
Chance Carter had drunkenly consented to letting his fraternity brothers finish branding his rear with the Kappa Sigma symbols, a mark he had started during spring break, unbeknownst to his family.
But his fraternity brothers took it upon themselves to continue the branding — this time large triangles to represent the Tri Delta Sorority — on his other buttock while he was passed out.
Johnson said the Tri Delta mark was mingled with numerous other brands, most of which are unrecognizable, since they overlap.
In an early favorite for quote of the year, Carter said "My whole other butt cheek was destroyed."
If the name sounds familiar, it's because Carter's great-grandfather was a Fort Worth businessman who created and published the Star-Telegram. He also gave millions of dollars to TCU, and as a thank you they named their football stadium after him. And destroyed his descendant's butt cheek.
Texas Fraternity Brother Branded, Family Furious Over Ritual [ABC News]
Thanks for your support of Deadspin today and every day. Tomorrow will be a light posting day — sorry to crush those of you expecting comprehensive Pro Bowl run-up coverage. I'll be here Sunday. Now go on your merry way.


text:
A tyre popular as Original Equipment on luxury sedans like Mercedes E-Class and Toyota Camry, Goodyear Excellence offers superior wet and dry traction along with absolute smooth and quiet ride. Innovative tread compound offers improved fuel efficiency.
Ideal for- Extensive highway rides and city use
Key Features & Benefits
- Silica based compound makes for superior grip
- Circumferential grooves make for superior wet performance
- Patented 3 Zone technology provides for quiet and comfortable ride
- Asymmetric tread design makes for superior wet and dry braking
- Solid shoulder blocks make for good cornering and stability
- Width245
245 is the width in millimetres of the tyres cross section.
- Aspect Ratio40
40 is the Aspect Ratio, it is the ratio of the sidewall height to the cross section width.
- ConstructionR
Radial construction. R stands for radial-ply construction.
- Rim19
19 inches, stands for the diameter of the wheel that the tyre is designed to fit.
- Load Rating94
94 (670 kg) is the load index i.e. the maximum weight each tyre can carry at full speed.
- Speed RatingY
Y (300 kmph) is the speed rating i.e. the maximum speed for the tyre at full load.


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Parkside 分館二零一零年十一月重開。Parkside 分館獲 LEED 銀級認證。請觀看開幕視頻 並用 Parkside 的 LEED 領導功能進行 虛擬之旅。
Thomas Hacker Architects rendering: Parkside Branch Library (9/08)
As part of the bond measure overwhelmingly passed by the voters in November 2000, the San Francisco Public Library is renovating the Parkside Branch Library. We plan to make it seismically safe, fully accessible and technologically updated, while enhancing its unique character.
Renovation highlights include a small addition, new accessible restrooms, improved public and staff spaces, a designated Teen Area near the courtyard, more computers, better lighting, and new & refinished furniture, shelving, and materials displays.
The Friends of the San Francisco Public Library are raising funds from private donations to pay for new furniture, fixtures, and equipment for the branch libraries.
Building better libraries for stronger communities


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Top Three in Tech: Bleak Blackberry Future?
WSJ tech editor Scott Austin profiles the week's top three tech stories, including the continuing saga of the future of Blackberry. Photo: AP.
This transcript has been automatically generated and may not be 100% accurate.
... and will commit Digits I'm Steve Russolillo ... it's been a busy week in the world and that ... the Journal tech editor Scott Austin has chosen the top three tech stories of the week Scott thanks so much for ... of course a week and Monday US is always ... so so yeah there are weekly fixture here until rates A number three ... are a number three we have will happen to BlackBerry ... they're a lot of interesting stories this week including today ... we had an exclusive interview with one of the newly elected directors at BlackBerry ... and that Britain were burned ... in Sweden actually I he's a former Sony Ericsson CU lead to restructuring ... of that company ... and he says that ... BlackBerry ... is better off as a niche company ... and would likely sell off some pieces ... and so there's been a lot of question whether BlackBerry will be consumed by the company like ... Micra soft when Novo or maybe even take it private ... or whether it'll sell off its assets and he seems to believe any ... kids and ... recently talked all board members and they're not all necessarily in agreement ... but that does some of these pieces like as we reported earlier this week ... its messaging service BlackBerry Messenger ... I could be Sabine be valuable to someone else in the BB just focus ... on the enterprise ... I knew this this is the network is so secure says it is a hair the patent portfolio to ensure this is ... some value right that I so they could sell off that piece in again edges really focus on something like ... being a networking company also secure networks behind phones and not really hardware plan for ... a long long time since a dozen seven hundred is up with the law right number two ... that number to another hack Attack and seems to be Kanebo weekly ... thing and dad this one was interesting for how was done so but ... I've ten websites apparently were hacked major ... US websites that in your times Twitter ... Huffington post on Dame degrees ... and I he was likely the pro Syrian group that government ... cannot group ... of loosely connected group of hackers ... I'm that that apparently attacked in the PP is no way where they went to ... this ... Australian company that handles the domains is greatest ... ration of the domains it's amazing how they kind of went through this is not your traditional sort of hacking style exactly and so in Twitter's case the kind of took over the domain for for a little bit it didn't really disrupt the site ... in your times case it actually went down for many hours in a work ... re directing the site to a different server ... it took awhile from your time to get that this back up but of course as ... the US government is considering ... in striking Syria right now I'd you know this group ... is trying to make a statement ... and you know this isn't going to be of course the last time not just us early ... to say from this group ... for other sites and we see this as consul is getting easier he's here it's really hard so that the flow and it's crazy to how long some of the sites were actually down and think that picks up sites like this to be affected for hours yes this is something as can be happening ... has to happen more and more testing to see signs that after fifteen mins of your pocket he hours and hours ... this becomes unclear exactly alright and number one ... number one we have to do with potentially one of the largest deals of all time and that is Verizon and go to the use of witnesses hundred and thirty billion dollars of the hundred and thirty billion dollars of course that they have a joint venture Verizon Wireless ... a very lucrative venture and ... Verizon Communications is trying to take over forty five percent stake that Vodafone owns ... again for ... the hundred thirty billion dollar mark which ... if it was that it would be this the the second largest deal ... of all time alongside Robert Hughes nine Vodafone I think was number one back to the company's above a German cellist the changes in the seminary environment the train right now we're basically deals are essentially dead cow and thirty billion dollar deals is displayed astonishes but tech BPO imagine that bankers are salivating right now ... no prizes going after raised billions of dollars in debt and you know it it'll be interesting to to to see the use of the reasons behind this and how it all worked ... I'm with Verizon is more strategic ... reason obesity one just take ... hold of this of the creed of that said with the cash flow not possibly ... know how I dumping a wireline business in the future ... of Vodafone course it's all about the money there and ... he's going to be a windfall for the shareholders in the Moby of these catch ... on to possibly buy ads in cable assets in Europe so this deal ... potentially which The Wall Street Journal broke earlier this week ... I could happen as soon as next week ... however keep an eye and Alan Scott Austin thank so much to ... and that's been our top three intact ...


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+ Mars Home
+ Rovers Home
Spotlight On Mars - Image
Dust Storm Passing Over Spirit
August 25, 2009
Images and Captions
The amount of electricity generated by the solar panels on Spirit has been declining for the past several Martian days, or sols, as a regional dust storm moved southward and blocked some of the sunshine at Spirit's location. The team operating the rover has responsively trimmed Spirit's daily activities and is keeping an eye on weather reports from observations by NASA's Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter.
Spirit's solar panels generated 392 watt-hours during the mission's Sol 2006 (Aug. 24, 2009), down from 744 watt-hours five sols earlier, but still generous compared with the 240 watt-hours per sol that was typical before a series of panel-cleaning events about four months ago.
"We expect that power will improve again as this storm passes, but we will continue to watch this vigilantly," said JPL's John Callas, project manager for Spirit and its twin, Opportunity. "Spirit remains power positive with healthy energy margins and charged batteries. The weather prediction from the Mars Color Imager team is that the storm is abating, but skies will remain dusty over Spirit for the next few sols."
Recent images from the Mars Color Imager camera on Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter showed this regional storm becoming less extensive Monday even as it shifted southward so that its southern edge covered the Gusev Crater area where Spirit is working. Malin Space Science Systems in San Diego, which operates that camera, provides frequent weather updates to the rover team. Weekly reports are posted at http://www.msss.com/msss_images/latest_weather.html .
Meanwhile, in JPL's In-Situ Instrument Laboratory, the rover team is continuing testing of strategies for getting Spirit out of a patch of soft soil where it is embedded on Mars. On Sol 2005 (Aug. 23, 2009) Spirit used its panoramic camera to examine the nature of how soil at the site has stuck to the rover's middle wheels. The team has also used Spirit's rock abrasion tool as a penetrometer to measure physical properties of the soil around Spirit by pressing into the soil with three different levels of force. The team is aiming to start sending drive commands to Spirit in September.
Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/Cornell University


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Would You Do This Workout In Public (In Just a Sports Bra!)?
During a spin class last week, the room was so sticky hot that a thick layer of condensation fogged up the mirrored wall. As the woman next to me took off her shirt I was thankful for the gentle breeze the removal created (hey, every little bit helps!) and insanely jealous of how much better she must have felt. But the thought of finishing class in just my sports bra wasn't an option... besides the fact all the bouncing might make class look more like a strip club than a fitness club (Bonus: See which sports bras for bigger chests I recommend.), I was timid of what others would think of me. Who would see a stomach roll, what would they think?
There was also a time last year when I found myself on a spin bike in front of an incredible stunning, blonde, size zero actress who-shall-not be named. Of course I hadn't done laundry that week so my only workout top was a gray shirt which showed every single sweat droplet. Again, there's nothing I wanted to do more than strip down to my sports bra, but the fear of not looking perfect can be intimidating. (Because who really remembers to keep her abs tight the entire spin class, especially when my legs want to fall off during tough hills?)
Now, there's a movement taking place that's going to change the way you feel about what your workout wardrobe. On May 17, women are stripping down to their sports bras in the middle of New York City for an outdoor workout that is about celebrating and embracing your own body just as it is. The Sports Bra Challenge 2012, is one-day charity fitness event taking place during National Women's Health Week and includes two, 200-bike SoulCycle spinning classes and a 150-person Vinyasa Yoga class benefitting City of Hope's Positive Image Center, emceed by Hannah Curlee and Olivia Ward of The Biggest Loser.
"There is something extremely liberating, empowering and exhilarating about working out in a sports bra. I think that stripping down to a bare bra is similar to the act of breaking down a barrier or overcoming an insecurity," Jenny Gaither, founder of the S.E.A.K. Foundation and SoulCycle instructor says. "Wearing nothing but a sports bra challenges you to be comfortable with who you are and helps you to find an appreciation for the body you have. It's a vulnerable and empowering act because you are choosing to forget what your peers think of your body, instead you are embracing your individuality and are standing up for who you are."
S.E.A.K. Foundation (Strive, Embrace, Achieve, Know) is a non-profit foundation founded by three women that helps teens and young adults develop confidence and acceptance of themselves through healthy living-minded programming.
If a public sports bra workout sounds like too much, try Jenny's 5 ways to help build confidence at home:
- Stretch! People often underestimate the value of stretching. Most people find that working out makes them feel good about themselves, but personally, taking thirty minutes out of my day to stretch while listening to music in my apartment is one of my favorite times of the day. It's a meditative time for me to check in with myself and my body and really listen to how I am feeling. Finding confidence is all about connecting to your truest self.
- Bare it all! NO make-up, just reveal your beautiful all-natural, glow-y skin. Just as you are.
- Think bright. Wear something that is bright and fun. Take a risk and wear something that you feel comfortable in but that makes you stand out. (Plus neon is on-trend this summer!)
- It's easy to get caught up in our crazy work schedules and endless to-do lists. With that we end up giving so much energy to other people throughout our day that we need to remember to give back to ourselves. Splurge on a massage or mani/pedi. You deserve it! When you take care of yourself you will feel better about yourself.
- What's on your music player right now? I really hope you aren't listening to your sad, winter playlist. For me, the right song can change my whole day around. Create a sunny and playful playlist to get you psyched for summer by choosing songs that make you want to move your body. Need help finding new beats? Check out S.E.A.K.'s website where they post new playlists each week.
Learn more about SEAK and The Sports Bra Challenge
Related Links:
Are You Wearing The Wrong Sports Bra?
Flat Abs in 5 Minutes
30 Fat-Sizzling Cardio Routines
For daily fitness tips follow SELF on Facebook and Twitter.
Get SELF on your iPad and Kindle Fire!


text:
Sadly the time has come for us to close our doors. We currently do not have the funding or resources to make this dream a bigger reality. We thank all of our loyal users who have turned their weblog into a real bound book.
BlogBinders refers you to www.lulu.com - a great company that prints one-off books.
Developer, printer or investor? Contact purchase AT blogbinders.com if you are interested in purchasing BlogBinders (domain, user list(non-spam use), technologies).
View a sample book.


text:
Doctor Oz's "In Case You Missed It" segment and recaps for September 21, 2011 are below. Don't forget to pass the recaps on to friends and family to spread Dr Oz's advice! Before I get to what Dr Oz covered today, I also want to remind you to visit our sister site (Opinion Queen) to enter some fabulous free giveaways.
Dr Oz September 21 2011 – In Case You Missed It
Click on the links at the end of each item below to read recaps of the Dr Oz Show from September 21 2011!


text:
Endorsed by Curators:
Come in and see how we make award winning Siesta Key rum!
All ages are welcome on the tour. You must, of course, be 21 to try samples. Dogs are welcome as long as they are friendly.
The Tour
The tour is free.It takes about 60 minutes depending on questions, etc. It will include an explanation of our equipment and the rum making process.
At the end of the tour you can try samples of our rums in the tasting room/gift shop. The samples are free in plastic cups or, if you prefer, you can get a Siesta Key Rum shot glass for $2 and drink out of glass.
Please arrive at least 10 minutes early.
The Rums
We will have samples of our Gold, Spiced, Silver, and Toasted Coconut rums available. We will also occasionally have samples of some rums that you cannot buy in stores. These may include samples from special blends such as our Distiller's Reserve Spiced rum or our Travelling Barrel series beer barrel spiced rum.
Bottles of our rums are available for purchase in the gift shop. All ages must present an I.D. card to purchase.
The Location
The Siesta Key rum distillery is located on the north side of Sarasota in a rather ordinary looking industrial park. But don't let that fool you. A tropical distilling paradise lies inside!
The address is:
2212 Industrial Blvd.
Sarasota, FL 34234
The tasting room & gift shop are open from 10:00 to 5:00 Monday throughSaturday. Please check our website for hours during holiday weeks.


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Spiderman Wall...
Spiderman Wall Crawler
Vulture, Electro and Doc Ock have taken over a rooftop! Help SpiderMan climb to the top, take down his enemies and save the day!
Tomorrowland: Race To Tomorrowland
Collect special pins to allow Casey to reach Tomorrowland!
Super Brawl 3
Super Brawl 3
Are you good or are you evil? Play as SpongeBob, Power Rangers Samurai, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Fairly Oddparents, Winx, Rabbids, Kung Fu Panda, Sanjay and Craig, Breadwinners, Legend of Korra, or Monsters vs. Aliens! Each character has their o
Cars 2: Chrome...
Cars 2: Chrome Missions
Pursue and eliminate the Lemons
Avengers Assemble: Combined Strike
Help the Avengers stop the combined forces of Red Skull and Dracula!
Legend Of Korra:...
Legend Of Korra: The Last Stand
It's the final face-off between Korra and Amon! Will Amon and the Equalists or Korra and the Benders be victorious?
Power Rangers:...
Power Rangers: Super Strike
The Rangers call on their Zords to combat the oncoming invasion, super strike now! Play with the Silver Ranger now!
Max Steel:...
Max Steel: Ultralinks Attack
Defend against Ultralink attacks! Join the fight and help Max Steel defeat the Ultralink Invasion.
Cars: World Grand...
Cars: World Grand Prix
Race against the worlds top racers!
Ben10: Alien...
Ben10: Alien Unlock 2
Ben 10 Alien Unlock 2 has 5 new mission games, each features a new and exciting alien where you will battle against evil Nemetrix aliens
Planes Fire And...
Planes Fire And Rescue: Piston Peak Pursuit
Help Dusty and Dipper extinguish all the fires in Piston Peak National Park.
Dragon Outcast...
Dragon Outcast Attack
Take to the skies with 10 different dragons to defend Berk from an Outcast Attack! Alvin and the Outcasts are launching a sneak attack on Berk
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers Megaforce: Zords Of Fury
Go laser to laser with these buggy aliens! Select your favorite zord and take on monsters, battling to the death in this awesome online action game!
Spongebob: Next...
Spongebob: Next Big Adventures
Help Spongebob navigate quests and play activities to level up
Planes: Jet...
Planes: Jet Stream Racers
Fly Dusty Crophopper and take first place to be crowned champion of the skies!
Spiderman: Ultimate Spider Cycle
Blast off on the Spider-Cycle and roar through the streets of Manhattan, straight up a skyscraper and down through subway tunnels in a race against time to stop Venom and save Spider-Mans best friend
Frozen: Double...
Frozen: Double Trouble
Help Anna make her way up the mountain in her epic journey to find her sister Elsa
Cars: Extreme...
Cars: Extreme Off-road Rush
Help Lightning McQueen take on the Baja pros in an off-road race and show them who is the fastest car in Radiator Springs!
Teenage Mutant...
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shadow Heroes
April's been kidnapped by a ghost and needs your help, but you won't be safe in New York City without your choice of a robo turtle or shuriken as your equipment. Ninja up and save the girl!
Ben10: Battle For...
Ben10: Battle For Power
Robotic Aliens have invaded the Plumbers HQ and it is up to Rook to stop them! Blast them away and keep the energy generators safe or it will be lights out for Ben 10 and his friends!
Blaze And The...
Blaze And The Monster Machines: Race To The Rescue!
Take the wheel and drive Blaze over ramps and obstacles! Do cool tricks, activate his super speed, and transform into different gadgets like in the show!
Legend Of Korra:...
Legend Of Korra: Zukos Dragon Flight
Zuko is riding a dragon and shooting fireballs at the enemies to prevent them from breaking out.
Avatar: Rise Of...
Avatar: Rise Of The Avatar
Travel across the four nations to master the elements with Aang.
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers Dino Charge: Unleash The Power!
You have the power, but are you ready to unleash it? In Power Rangers Dino Charge: Unleash the Power, Sledge and his army of Vivix will stop at nothing to gain the power of the Energems. Now its up to you and the Power Rangers to help defeat them! In th
Beyblade Metal...
Beyblade Metal Mania
Fire your Beyblade at all the targets! Knock them into the stratosphere!
Ben10: Duel Of...
Ben10: Duel Of The Duplicates
Battle evil versions of Bens aliens using Feedback, Snare-oh and Bloxx. Must play for ben10 fans!
Ben10 Zombozo's...
Ben10 Zombozos Big Score
Use Ben 10s alien forms to chase down the evil clown Zombozo
The Legend Of...
The Legend Of Korra: Republic City Run
Use Korras Avatar skills to zip past those Equalists!
Ben 10 Omniverse...
Ben 10 Omniverse : Ben 10 Alien Unlock
Can you unlock all the alien creatures? Must play for ben10 fan!
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers 20th Anniversary: Forever Red
The Red Rangers must unite to defeat the evil that threatens them all! Play Forever Red
Teenage Mutant...
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Foot Clan Clash
Its Turtle Time! Show the Foot Clan whos boss and defeat Spider Bytez for an epic win.
Ben 10 Ultimate...
Ben 10 Ultimate Alien Warrior
Its hero time! Help Ben on a secret mission to save the world.
Jimmy Neutron:...
Jimmy Neutron: Retroville Rescue
Collect parts for the Debubbleotron Device and watch out for Professor Calamitous army of Magnetomozoids
Winx Club:...
Winx Club: Magical Adventure
Help Bloom and Peg bounce from cloud to cloud and take on the Trix
Robot & Monster:...
Robot & Monster: Go Go Ogo!
Oh no, its Ogo! He desperately wants to read to you from his journal. Better get away fast!
Ben10 - The...
Ben10 - The Return Of Psyphon
Use Shocksquatch and Rook to stop Psyphon from wrecking Undertown.
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers Megaforce: Never Surrender
Power Rangers Megaforce is here to answer the threat of the Warstar aliens! Must play!
Beyblade: Epic...
Beyblade: Epic Battle
Control your Beyblade and win all the Epic Battles and become champion
Ben10: Danger...
Ben10: Danger From Dimension 12
Ben and Rook combine forces to stop Billy Billions and his army of giant robots
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers Samurai Spirit
Choose your power ranger and show your samurai spirit! Kill all the zombies along the way to the Dragon Palace and defeat the Dark Lord.
Ultimate Spiderman: Iron Spider
Someone has stolen the Iron Spider armor! Help Spiderman get it back! Must play!
Avengers Takedown
Avengers Takedown
Avengers Hawkeye and Black Widow must infiltrate a secret HYDRA base and take it down!
Ben10: The...
Ben10: The Mystery Of The Mayan Sword
Theres no time to lose! Help Ben, Gwen and Grandpa discover the hidden secret behind the Mayan Sword. On each episode of this exciting graphic adventure, expect new puzzles, minigames, and enigmas to solve. Simply must play !
Ben 10 The Alien...
Ben 10 The Alien Device English
Help Ben 10 find clues and solve puzzles on an epic adventure to stop Vilgax.
Power Rangers:...
Power Rangers: Super Samurai
Xandred is still threatening the safety of Earth, the Power Rangers must continue the fight against evil! Must play this game!
Ben10 Ultimate...
Ben10 Ultimate Alien Defense
Help Ben10 defend waves of incoming aliens. Must play !
Ben10 And...
Ben10 And Generator Rex: Heroes United
Are you ready to be a part of the most heroic team in the galaxy? Ben 10 and Generator Rex join forces to battle a powerful inter-dimensional menace in this epic adventure for up to two players
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers Samurai: Together Forever
A true samurai never gives up! Take out the forces of evil as your favorite Power Ranger!
Ben 10 Vs...
Ben 10 Vs Spiderman
Ben 10 vs Spiderman funny clip
Ben 10 Omniverse...
Ben 10 Omniverse Everyday Superhero
Ben 10 Omniverse to Everyday Superhero by Smash Mout
Ben 10...
Ben 10 Transformations: Ov, Ua, And Af
Here are some clips I gathered from the three sequel series of Ben 10. I dont own Ben 10; this video is purely for entertainment.
Power Rangers Top...
Power Rangers Top 10 Team Ups
This is a video of my Top 10 Favourite Episodes where the Power Rangers of the season, Team up with anyone not from their season
Power Rangers...
Power Rangers Samurai - Summon The Power
A new generation of Power Rangers must master the mystical and ancient Samurai Symbols of Power which give them control over the elements of Fire, Water, Sky, Forest, and Earth. GO GO Power Rangers!