In addition to giant hogs, I've found myself fascinated by pollution these days. And things that I find on the ground. I keep crossing paths with plastic spoons and unforntunate-looking babydolls. No, I'm not drunk. A local journalist told me that the Lerma river near Toluca is officially the most polluted river in the world. I'd smelled it before, every time I pass to go to Mexico City. It's especially foul at night, when the factories dump their deshechos into the water without blinking an eye. Thanks, Nestle. Powdered chocolate is criminal enough. Now this? I went there in the light of day recently. Within 10 minutes I felt a curious burning in the back of my throat. No joke. My eyes stung for a couple hours after I left. There's nothing in the water. Nothing alive, at least, with the exception of some mutant strain of something that can manage to survive the puss-bubble water whose surface reminded me of the last time I had a 3rd degree burn on my skin. When I got home, I looked on the internet and discovered that the Rio Lerma isn't actually THE most polluted river in the world.