On my last journey to the ancient granaries I merely visited an outpost, one of many throughout the kingdom. But today I visited the temple granaries, the largest in the land, cascading one after the other holding royal bounty to be kept from the masses (think Wall Street bonuses). This is where the high priests come to feed their bellies - as well as their insecurities. For by deigning their lives as more worthy in this world, they hope to make it so in the next. The reality, of course, is the opposite.
From a distance we see the complex,
spanning on both sides of the road.
We begin to feel how massive the storehouses are.
Across the way, even more granaries,
holding the wealth of an empire
We go up the bridge for a better view
Having no gold, the peasants are taxed for their grain.
Trains ship in the ill-gotten grains.
Uh, not exactly bullet train worthy.
Looking back at the first elevator
I decide to check under the bridge
but along the way I notice this at the bottom.
I'm at the foot of the elevators,
my camera unable to capture their full scope.
I cut through a chain link fence
to check between the elevators.
I find a friend, bent by a thousand winds.
As I depart, a peeking sun reminds me
there is nothing new under its watch.
We've been down these roads before
and the time for harvest draws near.
So why does the Pharaoh eat Mexican with such glorious amounts of grain to supply even the grandest of orgies? Because the grains stored in these granaries are grains of sand, or proppant, used in frac wells that pull out natural gas. If the god on earth wants to grab a bite, he'll need to hit up El Puerto down the road.
In fact, the entire area was Hispanic, complete with gauchos on horseback in the street. It's part of a borderless community within a community, but that's a whole other essay.
If want to see the entire set of pictures, click here.
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