Nobody Here But Us Vipers

To Caracas, a sedate colonial capital only a generation ago, Venezuela's oil boom has brought skyscrapers, gadgets, gewgaws and plenty of loose cash. Rubbing elbows with barefooted paupers, thousands of new-rich eagerly seek the things that money can buy. Last week in El Nacional, Editorial Writer Manuel Rodriguez Cardenas scorched buyers & sellers alike with a searing blast of angry rhetoric:

"We have a weakness: that of being rich . . . Writers with a sense of duty warn of the disaster we are headed for through our bragging folly, and shortsightedness; but no one pays any attention. The whirligig of clothes, horses and refrigerators spins on. Now we have reached perfection. We bring in dwarfs and freaks to divert us ... fighters with bellies like jugs, and women who wiggle their hips in a different rhythm from the rest of the body.

"An endless multitude pours in upon us: dog salesmen, false-teeth makers, confidence men, skunk tamers. And we greet them with smiles of joy . . .

"One of these days [the truth] will knock down this tin shop of absurdity and wickedness. Then the adventurers will take away their roulette wheels, their hair-curling machines, their good-luck charms. They will go away rich, and laughing at us. Here, amid the uproar, fighting to patch the sinking ship, we will be left alone, the disillusioned."

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