‘In the Mexican drug war there’s no such thing as an easy thrill or neat resolve in the bloodletting.’
We’re in the desert looking down on a city from a hilltop, and it’s not pretty. This is not the image of green-fringed America suburbia but some anaemic sun blistered middle-of the-middle-of-nowhere, scattered with boxy lookalike homes. It’s...
you would have to be an imbecile not to see a moral argument being advanced here