The Kingdom of Mammon by Amado Hernandez The boulevards burn with violence in the furious swarm of electric lights; and in the avenues, turtle-wise, hordes of cars roar with fierce energy. Buildings that tower with arrogance in Escolta have turned into rows of grave-stones; who will want or crave from the markets fruits and goods that have grown rotten? On every side there’s pleasure and distraction, fiesta and dancing, night-long, day-long; radios, newspapers, shops, hotels, all serve every whim of “high society.” Our country is so progressive and prosperous-- that’s what the tourists are impressed by; who dares whisper that thousands have no roofs above their heads; that hunger stalks this town?