Juan Miranda: What's that?
John H. Mallory: It's a map.
[Juan lies down on top of it]
John H. Mallory: It's your country you're lyin' all over, there!
Juan Miranda: [drowsily] Hm-hm. Not my country. My country's... me and my family.
John H. Mallory: Well, your country's also Huerta, the governor, the landlords... Günther Ruiz and his locusts... this little revolution we're having here.
Juan Miranda: [alert] A revolution? "Little revolution"? Please, don't try to tell me about revolution! I know all about the revolutions and how they start! The people that read the books, they go to the people that don't read the books, and say "Ho-ho! The time has come to have a change, eh?"
John H. Mallory: Shhhh...
Juan Miranda: [mimicking John] Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, SHIT, SHUSH! I know what I am talking about when I am talking about revolutions! The people who read the books go to the people who can't read the books, the poor people, and say, "We have to have a change." So, the poor people make the change, ah? And then, the people who read the books, they all sit around the big polished tables, and they talk and talk and talk and eat and eat and eat, eh? But what has happened to the poor people? THEY ARE DEAD! That's your revolution! Sh... so, please... don't tell me about revolutions. And what happens afterwards? The same fucking thing starts all over again!
John H. Mallory: [exhales] Whew. Hmmm.
[throws a book he was reading into the mud: Mikhael A. Bakunin, The Patriotism]
