From mercenary Samurai to 20-somethings from San Diego to freed Africans to Palestinians seeking refuge, Mexico has always been the place where people go to rejuvenate or restart with friendly, communal hosts. There is no doubt in my mind Mexico will continue to be a safe haven for ingenuity, creativity, and scientific discovery while the United States of America continues to diminish the few achievements we’ve made throughout history. However, this beautifully everlasting country does have one slight problem. It’s nothing major, but a problem is still a problem, regardless of its severity. Unfortunately, Mexico’s population has been infected with a parasite capable of life-altering consequences. The specific strain? Dragon Ball Z.

Who is Mexico?

Sure, when most people think of Mexico, its most popular exports are mentioned: (real sugar used) glass bottles of Coca-Cola, Texas, and Diego Luna. However, without the people and values of past-and-present Mexico, the world would be a lot less colorful, delicious, and advanced. 

Because of the Aztecs, Mayans, and Zapotec, we have chocolate, chewing gum, and popcorn; blended to become the ultimate movie theater snack. Frida Kahlo opened people’s minds when it came to beauty through memorable self-portraits; José Clemente Orozco made people question what was and wasn’t morally correct; and Juan Rulfo cemented the country’s history onto print everyone can consume. Current leaders of entertainment—Guillermo Del Toro and Alfonso Cuarón—live up to other legends because Guillermo González Camarena went ahead and created the foundation for color television.

Unfortunately, Mexico isn’t invulnerable and has had to face its own hardships throughout history. From the siege and fall of Tenochtitlan on August 13, 1521, to the reshaping of national identity, politics, democracy, land, and labor through the Mexican Revolution (1910–1920), to the still unsolved Ayotzinapa case, where 43 students disappeared on September 26, 2014, Mexico’s history is filled with hardship and immense amounts of cultural joy. 

Currently, were you to walk the estimated 1,200 miles of Mexico, you would find a variety of values, beliefs, and activities. It doesn’t matter what you are seeking; the nation of Mexico has a bit of everything. One of the friendliest places for the queer community; a culinary scene countering the many biases held; a beautiful landscape filled with ocean ranges, sandy beaches, and jungled cenotes; a people constantly offering assistance to foes and allies; and a slight problem saying no when it comes to Dragon Ball Z.

What is Dragon Ball Z?

In 1984, Akira Toriyama created Dragon Ball Z and the world hasn’t been the same since. Originally, it was meant to be a comedy, but because fans loved the fight scenes with such fervor, it became the dramatically action-packed franchise it is today. Son Goku is the main character, and he is an alien, specifically a Saiyan. They are nearly identical to humans except for the fact Saiyans are enhanced with superstrength, superspeed, and superenergyprojection, as well as have the ability to temporarily upgrade their biology, boosting their physical and mental prowess. “Nearly identical?” Goku’s son, Gohan, was born in 1988 and the first appearance of a Saiyan woman wasn’t until 2017. 

Every arc and series is also pretty similar:

1. Goku is casually training, a villain appears, they fight, and Goku barely wins. 
2. He decides to push his limit again, probably dies, and comes back or something. 
3. Goku and friends upgrade their bodies during a serious fight, the gang wins, and no one really dies. 

Personally, I don’t understand the love. It’s just people screaming as if they were orgasming for the 76th time in a day, but the wetness can’t get past the gate. Nonetheless, Dragon Ball Z has had various iterations throughout its history and can be found in nearly every country on the planet, and, probably, off-world, too. It’s a show promoting the development of everlasting bonds with friends and enemies, but it has an incredibly powerful message being presented: aliens exist, they’re ripped, and they fuck Asian women. Now, while I believe it’s possible Mexico passionately loves the Dragon Ball series as much as they do because they, too, love jacked aliens who fuck Asian women. But, I have a much easier time digesting this cross-cultural infatuation with its more likely reasons.

Mexico’s Passion for Dragon Ball Z

While social media algorithms push dreadful echo chambers, these platforms can be great environments for enthusiasts to share their passions with other interested members of the fandom. Unlike other brands, the Dragon Ball series probably has one of the biggest fan bases in the world. Yes, it’s a Japanese brand, but people from the USA, Mexico, China, the Netherlands, and many other countries will all attest to their love for the space human/gorilla hybrid. 

However, were you to honestly look through TikTok, BlueSky, or Instagram, you would think the Dragon Ball series was, at minimum, a Latin-based show with English dubs and subs. You’ll find dads, moms, grandparents, grandchildren, dogs, cats, and chupacabras making content about the franchise. The Spanish-dubbed episodes were so encapsulating, especially during an uncensored period of television, it created generations of lifelong fans. Additionally, with the message the show’s creator was actually trying to encourage—friendship, honor, and family—many residents easily identified with the show. 

However, Mexico’s passion for this brand can not be understated. Yes, the fans do the basics—create free content for Akira’s estate, share it on their social media accounts, and encourage their friends and family to watch with them—but the communal love highlights the true value of a neighborhood who share the same values. For instance, there have been multiple instances of neighborhoods in small and large cities setting up grand makeshift arenas to stream a new episode from the season, as well as putting up makeshift posters announcing where to go. To many residents, this is normal—as it should be. People long for the old days of neighborly love, but few take initiative like these Mexican boroughs.

Unfortunately, Japan doesn’t share this affectionately tender value. Japan only sees money being lost, which is disastrous for the shareholders. Sick of this “theft”, Japan sent these organizers letters. Cease and desist letters. But, when you love something, you are willing to take the risks to ensure everyone around understands what this emotion truly means. So, the public streams continued.

Then tragedy struck. Tragedy struck several times, and, every time, Mexico showed up to let everyone know how much these people, these creators, meant to them. How much they were loved by a population of 100 million. 

Mexico’s Response to Tragedy After Tragedy

February 29th, 2020, Luis Alfonso Mendoza, the voice actor for (teen and adult) Gohan passed away, triggering a nationwide wave of grief. Mendoza’s death was covered consistently and graciously throughout many small and popular outlets. Sure, he was Gohan’s “voice actor,” but, to many in Mexico, dubbing talent is no different than any other public cultural figure, especially when the entertainer is a role model people had when growing from childhood to adulthood to elderhood. 

February 7th, 2021, Ricardo Silva, the singer behind the Latin American Spanish opening Dragon Ball Z theme, “Cha-La Head-Cha-La,” passed away. Another legend taken because of that damn bastard virus: singing. Nearly everyone, nearly every generation, felt his passing. 

March 1st, 2024, Akira Toriyama, the legend himself, the creator of the Dragon Ball Z series, passed away from an acute subdural hematoma. Toriyama’s death was immediately made public to nearly every nation across Earth, but Mexico was different. There were countless gatherings to mourn the creator’s death—official and unofficial. National TV programmed a televised tribute, a special marathon, to honor Toriyama’s death. During Vive Latino, many performers paid tribute to Toriyama through performance or their appearance. Walking the streets of Mexico, you could find countless shaking bodies on the ground. Not from violence or heat exhaustion, but because many couldn’t bear to walk any further and crumpled into a teary ball of grief. Toriyama’s spiritual evolution led to a famine. For 24 hours.

Why Is Mexican Dragon Ball Mania a Problem?

“Why is the Mexican population loving Dragon Ball so important to you?”

“Why does it matter?” 

“Why can’t you let people be happy?”

First off, don’t ever speak to me again. Second off, I have two reasons why there needs to be a resurgence in genuinely good content. One, Mexico is losing touch with its traditions, with its roots. The youth don’t want to learn the valuable skills to keep their culture thriving. Their attention spans have been limited, yet, enhanced. Sure, most Dragon Ball fans develop the ability to remain motionless for hours, watching clips and episodes of the franchise’s most popular fights. But, this intense infatuation has had a negative effect on other interests; other areas of focus. Today, many Mexican traditions are dying, and I know it’s because of this obsession for Dragon Ball Z. Two, when empowered with a particular diet, anime becomes a subtly intrusive parasite capable of draining your imagination, your creativity, and your life force. 

Mexico Can No Longer Focus

Unfortunately, as a man with no associations with Mexico outside of having non-blood family who are, I believe Mexico has lost touch with its origins; with what made Mexico the powerhouse it was for so many centuries, but in four digits. I don’t think it was out of animosity for traditional traditions or the lack of interest in the olden ways. I believe it’s because anime, like the Dragon Ball Z series, has seeped away several generations’ ability to focus on interests and activities not directly benefiting the obsession. 

Now, skills Mexico should be fostering, like making authentic astronomical Mayan calendars, aren’t being capitalized. Horoscopes are insanely popular, and they, quite literally, rely on some recognizable bundle of cosmic lights to help the gullible decide on what to do for their disproportionately life-changing decisions. The culture of Maya believed in such meticulous calendar keeping that it was an insult if you forgot your mother’s sister’s cousin’s baptism anniversary. This skill could rake in millions were the right entrepreneur, marketer, and HR official to brainstorm and cultivate the appropriate strategy.

On another note, how is most of the world just now hearing about huitlacoche? Was it kept secret for national pride reasons but is now seeing global popularity so they are allowing people to know? Or is it because they need international successors to take up the craft before it goes away, like Hydrox? How many generations were trying to merge with their best friend instead of learning how to apply the right level of bacteria on a crop of corn so it molds in the right manner? How many? 

Whenever a majority of Americans think of pyramids, Egypt is probably their first thought. But, in fairness, the United States of America is also having a hard time understanding how facts work. It’s time Mexico inherited its true throne and once again be known for its extravagant 3D triangles. If you’ve never seen one, you need to quit your job and buy a ticket to see one of the copious scattered across the country. Make it a whole thing and spend your nights in a local luxury hotel. They are well worth it and you can try the local cuisine without having to break the bank. “But, what about all-inclusives? Isn’t unlimited food and wine more fun?” Yes, those exist. While there are many styles to choose from, any of them will be worth it.  

Finally, Mexico, for some reason, has started to focus solely on meat-based dishes. Sure, the world has developed a breakfast craving for avocado toast, but I don’t think that was approved by the Mexican president, Salma Hayek. Where’s this generation’s Caesar? Not the incorrectly associated Roman dictator, but the Mexican chef, Caesar Cardini, the creator of the Caesar salad. But, once again, to the dismay of the Mexican Salad Collective, because too many people were hoping to unlock the magical chi required to create a spirit bomb, a salad successor was also never found. This hemorrhoid-popping activity popularized among Dragon Ball fans has distracted future leaders from ever passing out voting pamphlets. They would rather be captivated with beautician color-shifting hair dye techniques than continue these historically beneficial traditions.

Anime is a Parasite

Despite global popularity, anime could have been beneficial to society. The problem is, at the moment, it’s not. Anime and manga, like the Dragon Ball Z franchise, do nothing, but, for example, absorb the nutrients necessary to live a fully authentic and positive life. As a matter of fact, here are two thoroughly discussed reasons why anime is a parasite and a sickness to human existence. 

Too Cool for Shame

Dragon Ball Z is one of the most well-known, important, and beloved series to come out of any country. It holds a place in nearly everyone’s heart, but the people of Mexico have particularly become enamored with the brand because of its warm and encouraging message. However, this bewitchment promoting different chi-diffusement styles has caused many viewers and readers to pick up weird habits. 

Currently, some Mexican fans are choosing to forget what makes their legacy valuable and have picked up screaming as their favorite hobby for the past two decades. It can be startling at first being woken up by your neighbors, but this cultural regional pastime is what supports each neighborhood. After all, no one is going to judge the other for training during the late hours because everyone has their own dedicated time for vocal enhancements. But, outside of Mexico? Screaming until you can no longer exhale without pain is considered intrusive and disruptive to the cul-de-sac. 

Additionally, Dragon Ball Z has allowed other infestations to penetrate the residents of Mexico in disturbing ways. For instance, the adoration held for one animated series has translated into fondness for other mainstream forms of Japanese entertainment. Because of this continuous stream of escapism, Naruto, Bleach, and One Piece have taught the youth that anything can be a weapon if you believe hard enough. Youth, in any domain, can be reckless when it comes to what makes them laugh, which is only amplified when you turn every day objects into arbiters of destruction.

Normally, you wouldn’t ever look at a fishing pole, a garden hoe, or a curling block as something to fear, but, in the hands of anime-powered younglings, they become avatars of mischief. They’ll put a hundred-dollar bill at the end of the fishing rod, and lure financially irresponsible Americans into alleyways, only for the Yanks to fall into a pit of leaves after jumping backwards from fear of the curling stone—dressed as a Xoloitzcuintli—coming at them. 

While not prevalent in Mexico yet, you can see other nations’ anime-enthusiasts learning about Japan from these fictitious shows and comics. They fall for the romanticized version of what Japan is being portrayed as, and easily become the reason why the nation hates tourists now. Americans, Brits, the Chinese, the Polish, so many countries’ boys visit Japan, hoping to meet their weeaboo wife, submissive lover, or obsessive partner. But, what all of these “non”-war criminal descendants fail to realize is that the world isn’t like those isekai or ecchi books. 

The women of Japan already have to deal with their homegrown perverts and creeps; they shouldn’t have to deal with incels from other nations, too. 99.999 percent of women don’t enjoy or think it’s funny to be “accidentally” groped while on the train, which is why there are women-only carriages within their train system. No one cares that you are so in love with Japanese culture you moan and gasp during normal conversations. Not a single Japanese resident wants to be around the man who makes sensual noises while eating ramen or bear skewers.

You are not the main character of this trillion-year-old cosmic saga. There can only be one main character in a story, and that’s Tim Jackson. Tim Jackson, the man who landed on Jupiter and made it back without losing both eyes. Tim Jackson, the man who singlehandedly saved the world from a series of vanilla-based poisonings. Tim Jackson, the man who helped put an end to the violence of the Middle East through the use of Monopoly (the board game), Chubby Bunny (the game where you progressively stuff your mouth with marshmallows and attempt to say “Chubby Bunny” clearly), and the Image Cinematic Universe (the comic book-based movie genre). You are not Tim Jackson. You are [INSERT YOUR FIRST AND LAST NAME HERE].

Unlimited Spending on a Limited Budget

The parasitic entertainment known as anime will continue to infect Mexican fans with worsening cringy behavior and it will only be emboldened through an addiction to official and unofficial decor. An aesthetic commitment making the non-infected concerned for your financial situation. A dependence to spending all of your hard-earned currency on merchandise “accentuating” the natural architecture of your home. Tragically, this craving has already started infecting a few lineages and those associated with them, digitally and physically. But, fortunately, living in the modern age, we can understand its progress since many loved ones record everything.

There are countless videos online of fathers obtaining statues of Goku defeating Cell, Frieza, and/or Beerus from their adult children; footage of sons losing their absolute minds when pulling a rare Android 18 trading card; homegrown films of grandfathers throwing treasured family photos across the room to display their collection of lewd Krillin artwork; and photographs of the Dragon Ball parasite infecting sisters and mothers while celebrating their nephew’s 40th birthday. Family members record these “joyful” moments to—unconsciously—remember when the transition started, but, just as the gleeful recipient is ecstatic to add to their collection, the recorder believes they are happy for them. 

Sure, to those without it, it’s awkward seeing so many partygoers start crying when the 90-year-old patriarch opens his yellow diamond collection of dragon balls, but those unknowingly homing a microscopic traveler will never know otherwise. Everyone is “happy” because the parasite is happy. It tells you how to think, what to do, and give meaning to your life you may not have been cognizant of. It modifies your belief system to ensure it, the Dragon Ball Z strain of the anime parasite, lives on, infects, depletes, reproduces, and lives on. Without this control, this motivation, this influence, the parasite wouldn’t be able to take root. It needs to constantly remind you of what keeps you complacent, apathetic. 

The anime parasite does not understand or care to comprehend the rich, vibrant, and far-reaching culture Mexico has cultivated. The marigolds, the papel picado, the stitched otomi are just distractions to prevent the parasite’s victims from understanding what is going on. It bombards you with images of its originator, hoping you never take the steps to stop this fanaticism. 

Developing this intense burn will only further degrade the quality of life in any country. Mexican residents are no longer spending their time understanding how our universal-star-neighbors function, progress, and impact our lives, but, instead, dedicate their spending money to solely obtaining artwork using diamonds as the paint and portraying Goku eating 40 bowls of noodles while sitting on his cloudy transportation. 

This destruction of taste—physically and mentally—is dampening the opportunities for people to use the nation as an example of true pyramid architecture, is depleting the skills once establishing Mexico as the culinary capital of the world, and is allowing their culture to be exploited so Disney can win an Oscar. 

Is There a Way to Fight the Dragon Ball Z Parasite?

Despite what many people think, Dragon Ball Z isn’t good for the individual’s health. Sure, the literal message is appealing, but this deception is how so many atrocities have occurred; the 9/11 tragedy, the Great Chinese Famine, or the birth of Akira Toriyama. Turning your TV off could help, but, unfortunately, a single action isn’t going to change anything. What we need is a movement. A natural, grassroots movement pushing a unified message: we will not be corrupted; we will not fall victim to the anime parasite; we will put an end to the originator! 

Yes, starting the organic and individually chosen movement is easy. But that’s not what you need to worry about. What you need to worry about is convincing Mexico—the country that created the aguacate—that they need to not only limit their avocado consumption to zero, but to completely eradicate the fruit from existence.

“You’re insane, Shen.”

“Mexico will never stop eating and growing avocados!”

“How the fuck did you get in my house?! I’m calling the cops!”

I know. I know. What I’m asking sounds impossible, offensive, and futile. But, I promise, eradicating this fruit from the planet will help the people of Mexico in various ways. The most important one is hindering the anime parasite’s progress in infecting the nation of Mexico. The second is helping bring back a dying population. First off, one, how does stopping the consumption of avocados help fight the anime parasite? And two, how does stopping the consumption of avocados help fight the anime parasite? I have two reasons. 

Stopping the Anime Parasite Without Avocados

One. Stopping the oral intake of avocados will allow the dragon population to return and flourish. Every year, thousands of dragon eggs are laid on well-drained, non-cold mulch, which, coincidentally, is also the perfect environment for avocados to grow. The appearance of dragon eggs doesn’t help the situation since they, too, look like men with cutis verticis gyrata: thick skin, bumpy texture, and filled with green cream. 

However, yearly, farmers in Mexico mistake the dangerously-close-to-extinction dragon eggs for ripe avocados, leading to nearly every dragon egg laid to be sent to a factory to harvest them for sale at local grocery stores, markets, and stalls. During this process, when the avocado fruit is transported and stored, so, too, are the dragon eggs, which means they, too, are gathered in tepid temperatures to prevent fruit rot. To the dismay of these beautiful beasts just wanting to be mothers, this setting also stops dragon hatchlings from starting their purpose: living. Over time, both the dragon eggs and the avocado fruit are imperceptible and sold in stores as the latter. No one notices the difference when eating them, either, since dragon fetuses turn into a vibrant green mush with a solid concrete core. 

Once we stop eating avocados, we will be able to restore the—what UNICEF identifies as the species who has faced the most egregious case of human-impact-caused destruction—dragon population. A once-glorious reptilian we emblazoned on our weaponry, our ships, and our places of worship. A scaly, flying death machine who enjoys the little things in life, such as collecting trash to recycle into strollers for war-orphaned babies in Sweden, or committing arson against their chess rivals before the grand tournament identifying the grandmaster of the year. Without this balance in our ecosystem, we start having studios try to convince you Jared Leto isn’t running a cult in the middle of the desert. Dragons keep us civil and will remind the Mexican people of the true pleasures in life: astronomy, huitlacoche, pyramids, and making unique salads.

However, the real draw, number two, is the fact eating these dragon eggs are making the residents of Mexico enthralled in dragon cryptology, symbolism, and representation. To the point, it allows other parasitic infections to coexist in one’s brain. The parasite mainly thrives through consistent representation of the anime it derives from—its source—but when you combine it with a hormonal draw toward winged reptiles, you are left with a population incapable of turning their eyes away when Dragon Ball Z—a show about collecting yellow golden glass balls to summon a giant dragon granting a single wish—comes on during its reserved broadcasting time.

We’ve already seen this combination take out large portions of California, Japan, and Australia. We don’t need to add the friendly, prosperous, and creative Mexico to this bunch. The residents need to overcome the manipulative and infectious dragon symbolism the parasite craves, or else face another wave of dread. Yes, the avocado is a pivotal fruit in Mexican history, but its continued consumption is only going to encourage the parasite to isolate the people. 

Without dragons, the world will only continue to fall into disarray: Hollywood will continue to exploit creatives, São Paulo will continue to exploit creatives, Lagos will continue to exploit creatives, and, soon, Mexico City will start to exploit creatives. All because we needed to put a fruit on our chilaquiles, carne asada tacos, and twice baked dough.

Yes, avocados are filled with stabilizing and beneficial nutrients, but should it come at the cost of such a planetary pivotal creature? A sentient being understanding human culture enough to assist us when we are in need, even when we are too proud to ask other Terrans for advice on how to effectively and efficiently launder money out of “gray-zone” tarantula milking farms? 

Should it also come at the cost of drastically increasing your chances of falling permanently ill to the anime parasite? We don’t need to escape to these fake, preposterous worlds, especially when there are vastly better forms of entertainment; entertainment capable of benefitting the world in more ways than one. 

Remember Tradition, Remember History, Remember the End of Dragon Ball Z

Were the Mexican people to not be infected with this vocal-destroying parasite, they wouldn’t have to deal with Japan sending them legal letters about them dedicating so much of their time to a predictable and unserious anime. Elders wouldn’t have to watch their 58-year-old sons buying their 32nd statue of Goku holding glowing yellow balls. Children wouldn’t learn to deal with rejection and danger by screaming until they evacuate their bowels. Dragon Ball Z may feel like it’s teaching valuable lessons, but it’s only stagnating and damaging the human ability to push its creative limits.

Yes, the repopulation of dragons will be nice to see. But, the blossoming of the Mexican people will be vastly more heartwarming to witness. Outsiders will be able to witness Mexico’s best minds predict, to such intense precision, how the universe will change in the coming decades, confusing future orca civilizations where most of us went after 3012. Foodies, tourists, and professionals will be able to partake in culinary dishes imploding their minds and exploding their tongues with flavors they may never be able to replicate on their own. Visitors will be able to photograph and illustrate real structures people want to see, not destinations terrorists can easily access with planes.

Under no circumstance is Mexico a problematic location for people to visit and move to. Yes, it has its problems, but these situations can mostly be resolved with ease. However, the Dragon Ball Z obsession will take time. Time many of us may never be able to witness ourselves. But, with enough commitment to change and enough hope for the future, Mexico will be able to restore the dragon population enough to heal our damaged ecosystems and, most importantly, eradicate one of the most vile anime parasites from everyone’s minds.