Here’s a story from El Diario editorializing on how Americans see Mexico (hence the title to this post):
Speedy Gonzalez did not live in a fashionable city. His companions weren’t other religious and industrious mice, manufacturing their own cheese. Quite the contrary. In his universe, his godless peers dress like awkward peasants. The live to party, lying in the open, hungover, and they turn to their leader, Gonzalez, when they need someone to go through the mouse hole to the world of opulence and deliver some cheese or whatever it takes. That is, the Mexican must cross, steal, cheat the guards and deliver the rest of the booty to beggars living on alms to keep the party going. Is there another interpretation of this “harmless” cartoon?
(No better than a pretty good translation offered for free by elchuqueno.com. All tortious liability lies with the reader.)