Guess I wasn't just shouting at the rain

Four years spent "majoring" in Spanish have left a definite salt in my mouth for the written Spanish word. This coming from the same person whose skin crawls when people admit they find reading boring. For those that know me recognize that I'd rather debate my side to death rather than admit defeat. In this case I say it's one thing to dislike reading in your native, which-language-do-you-prefer-Homer-Simpson-to-speak-in versus reading in a "studied" language with all that sangria it took to finish "El poema del Mio Cid." Anyways, my point is that I rarely read anything in Spanish these days. Gossip, soccer results, an occasional horoscope.

I read Chile's "Paula" with the same pseudo-feminist-Cosmo-bashin' fervor I read EEUU's "Jane". I received my latest copy of "Paula" on Sunday and was delighted by their reprinting of Grande Reportagem's flag ad campaign. As a side, EEUU and Colombia are also quite clever. When I submitted my MA thesis this past August (11 months ago, whatever), I walked away feeling that maybe the world wasn't ready for my style of social commentary via national flags. True, my delivery was abstract at best and I was reaching here and there for something resembling a point. But the Portuguese, god love 'em, they got me all along.