The memory of Pablo Escobar constitutes a painful wound in the Colombian psyche, evoking terrorism, corruption, and unparalleled violence. In his war against the state, the infamous Medellin capo left the nation in shambles, almost single-handedly tainting its image to the rest of the world. Two decades have passed since Escobar's death, and drug trafficking has evolved into less flamboyant narco-paramilitary alliances, yet the capo's name continues to appear with insistence both in political and cultural discourses. The subject invariably elicits passionate reactions, provoking both repulsion and fascination. In the process, and to the chagrin of many, he has become a fixture of popular culture, as well as a sought-after commodity.

Escobar's persona has transformed into a modern icon of consumption, opening old wounds and fanning the flames of long-standing disputes. After all, outlaws have been a ubiquitous fixture in the film industry since its earliest days, substantiating the marketability of criminals in global popular culture (Parker 111). It is said that the two Botero paintings depicting Escobar's death draw the largest crowds in the Museo de Antioquia, while Pablo T-shirts sell in souvenir shops and Escobar-themed tours are growing in popularity. In short, Escobar is becoming an unquestionable media favorite, a myth-turned-moneymaking-machine that extends beyond Colombia's borders. As Omar Rincon quipped, Escobar “es tan narco que convierte en oro todo lo que toca” (Lopez par. 2; he is so narco that turns everything he touches to gold).

This chapter explores the discourses born out of Escobar's shadow, beginning with the premise that popular culture is a site of struggle among the interests of different groups from the elites through the masses. This is in conjunction with the universal appeal of crime narratives, the iconic “celebrated villain,” and the subsequent demands of consumerism.