I know what you’re thinking: didn’t Rictus launch, like, three hours ago? Yeah, sorta; the first post went live on September 23rd, and we’ve been writing sporadically since then.
But, believe or not, our two-peso website has had over 40,000 views since we first trashed Juanes. So someone — you! — is reading us (aw, thanks).
Anyway. Here are the most popular posts Rictus has published so far along with their original excerpts:
According to the Mexican press, Elton John agreed to collaborate with Juanga, his Universal Music label mate, in exchange for half of the track’s royalties. There is no release date for the duo’s collaboration, which will be released on Juanga’s next LP, but apparently Luis Miguel was made a similar offer. “El Sol,” however, decided to pass because he didn’t like the song he was sent.
There is a new war brewing in the crazy world of Latinoland. And it involves one X, but no sex. It’s about the word “Latinx,” a term to include all Latinos and Latinas without the male-dominant bias implied in the generic plural “Latinos.” I get it, and I’m all for looking for ways to destroy the unnecessary patriarchal legacy in our culture. But unless you really need a specific term like that because you are a double minority, like trans Latinas/os, it’s probably not going to work.
Why, you ask? Read the rest of the story here.
Lucifer has been given birth In Argentina (Cerati tried to warn us about this, but we wouldn’t listen)
What in the name of yerba mate, Diego Maradona, and Pimpinela is going on in Argentina?! Well, according to the local press, some pretty sinister stuff. For example, a couple named their baby Lucifer after certain baby-naming laws were relaxed
Take a look at El Chapo’s Revenge (Beach Better Have My Money). It’s not just a pun, but an “interactive artwork” where, after forking over $250 bucks, Art Basel attendees are given a metal detector and sent on a scavenger hunt inside a fenced off beach area. Zerek Kempf and Nathan Gwynne, the creators of El Chapo’s Revenge, allow participants to take home whatever they find, which seem to be all sorts of “prizes” (zinc-casted chicken bones, Donald Trump heads, corn cobs, etc).
[11:56 AM] José Manuel Simián: This year’s Hispanic Heritage Month brought so many terrible things we should probably make a top 10 list. (I’m thinking of Emilio Estefan’s anti-Trump song to begin with), but the latest slap was probably the trailer for HBO’s documentary The Latin Explosion.
[11:56 AM] Marcelo Báez: Yes. I mean, I know Jesus has taught us to turn the other cheek, but if we continue to follow his advice, we’re going to be left with no face at all.
[11:58 AM] José: Exactly. Well, you and I were raised on that sort of Catholic S&M. It’s just that this is so boring. And so incorrect. If you tell the story of Latin music in the US through the likes of the Estefans, Ricky Martin and JLo, you’re just fooling yourself.
[12:01 PM] Marcelo: Yes, absolutely. But they obviously have an agenda; most of the people in these documentaries are basically Emilio’s protégés, or at the very least people who are very close to them.
Yesterday Taylor Swift performed in the 305 — that’s in Miami, you geographically-impaired dork — where she brought out Pitbull, the Che Guevara-hating rapper (“It’s like wearing an Adolf Hitler T-shirt and not knowing”) and Ricky Martin, a man whose 1999 self-titled album Taylor bought when she was 10-years-old (or at least that’s what she told her audience).
A few days ago Florinda Meza, aka Chimoltrufia, Doña Florinda, and Popis on El Chavo del Ocho, gave an intense interview to Mexican reporter Pati Chapoy where, for the first time since the death of Roberto Gómez Bolaños, her husband and the creator of El Chavo del Ocho, she discussed with great detail many aspects of their scandalous relationship. Meza is notoriously private, so it’s shocking that she would grant such an interview to Chapoy, Mexico’s Barba Walters or sorts, especially because Florinda actually dug deep.
After keeping a low profile since the release of 2012’s Primera Fila, her Unplugged or sorts, Fey just teased a new song featuring Lenny de la Rosa, a no-name model-actor-singer, and… it sucks. “No me acostumbro” sounds like a leftover bachata track Prince Royce wouldn’t use to wipe Romeo Santos’ ass with — but, hey, you’re a free-thinking adult (I hope). So go ahead and make up your own mind.
Camilo Sesto, the 69-year-old Spanish singer and composer, is a legend. Julio Iglesias and Raphael have nothing on him (Camilo can even imitate both of them to a T). But Sesto is also notoriously private and a bit eccentric, which is why the Spanish press has often compared him to Michael Jackson. He’s not entirely a recluse, but since the early ’90s Camilo’s public appearances have become as rare as Trump-supporting “Hispanics.” Seeing Sesto out in the wild is like seeing a gracious, majestic unicorn pooping rainbow-colored ice cream.
Last weekend Sara Galindo, the executive fashion editor of ELLE Mexico, paraded her “BFF” Alejandro Fernández, one of Latin America’s best-selling pop stars, all over her Instagram account just like a pimp parades a newly-acquired whore in front of the 7-Eleven with the brightest sign in the city. They went to fashion shows, took pictures with models, hung out with Ricky Martin, and had dinner at the French bistro Le Bilboquet in the Upper East Side, among other glamorous things you’ll never be able to afford, poor person.
Gaby Rivero, better known to us olds as the beautiful maestra Jimena, was trying to get the Mexican press to cover Made in Mexico, some play she’s in, so she pulled a cunning trick: bring together all of her former students from Carrusel, Televisa’s popular telenovela from the late ’80s, as “godfathers” of the play. The publicity stunt was odd, sure, but Rivero’s plan worked and the gathering was spectacular. This is what they look like now.