Tuesday, 13 May 2008
Part Three. Cuba is still not a laugh a minute.
In the end, all tyrants, frauds and killers do eventually contribute enormously to the happiness of the world's people. No, really. Because control freak swine and utter frauds do eventually die and sometimes badly. Great! Che is dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. Ain't that great? And Castro soon too eh? Now that's gotta be worth a laugh and a drink between true friends and and a warm family? And interestingly, these are two things that a parasite like Che just loved to destroy.
Why do so many people love Che the child killer Guevara? Well, they don't, actually. Nope, they love themselves first and foremost. But that ain't gonna cut it out in the world for the average and boring twerp trust fund brat and mediocre celebrity that needs an army of script writer's for the only times they utter anything worth a damn. Neither will it swing for any nobody variant, a venal hubristic rich freak, or just the common garden variety rapist and killer. No, no, no! You know that what you need is a Che makeover!
In reality, if you're about as rebellious as a mass produced consumer of an image can be, and have nothing to offer anyone unless it's entirely about you, or you're a coward, a bore, a criminal, an overly complex, or a dimly and simple minded nerve ending of narcissism, and gross immaturity, well...
Hell, then just put on the worlds number one fancy dress of the living dead. Be a Che for a day! Or for an entire miserable, useless, ugly, destructive, contradictory, sheltered, privileged existence, and then pretend you're somebody that you ain't. Somebody that people should listen to and notice for er, anything, when you know and I know, ya got precisely nothing. Hey, calm down, adjective boy!
"It's such a shame to waste your life away like this...existing. Nothing but existing...Oh, there ain't no life...nowhere".
Humberto Fontova: "SENTENCE first. VERDICT afterwards", said the Queen. "Nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the top of her voice’. Alice In Wonderland
They say Lewis Carroll was a serious dope fiend, his mind totally scrambled on opium, when he concocted "Alice in Wonderland". A place where the sentence comes first and the verdict afterward, where people who protest the madness are sentenced to death themselves. What lunacy!
…If only [Lewis ]Carroll had lived a bit longer. If only he'd visited Cuba in 1959 when every paper from the New York Times to the London Observer, when every pundit from Walter Lippman to Ed Murrow, every author from Jean Paul Sartre to Norman Mailer, every TV host from Jack Paar to Ed Sullivan were touting the judicial outrages, mass larceny and firing-squad orgies instituted by Fidel Castro and Che Guevara as the most glorious events since VJ day.
Che: "To send men to the firing squad, judicial proof is unnecessary". Carroll would have heard from the chief executioner, named Ernesto 'Che' Guevara. "These procedures are an archaic bourgeois detail. This is a revolution! And a revolutionary must become a cold killing machine motivated by pure hate. We must create the pedagogy of the paredon! [The Wall]"
For the first year of Castro's glorious revolution Che Guevara was his main executioner. A combination Beria and Himmler, with a major exception: Che's slaughter of (bound and gagged) Cubans (Che was himself an Argentine), exceeded Heinrich Himmler's prewar slaughter of Germans, to scale, that is.
Che: "Crazy with fury I will stain my rifle red while slaughtering any enemy that falls in my hands! My nostrils dilate while savoring the acrid odor of gunpowder and blood. With the deaths of my enemies I prepare my being for the sacred fight and join the triumphant proletariat with a bestial howl!"
Humberto Fontova at HNN.
"Obama supporters say Viva Che.
During recent interviews of Obama campaign workers on Houston's Fox TV station, the offices of two Texas Obama campaign volunteers (including a precinct captain and head of the "Houston Obama Leadership Team") were found prominently decorated with Che Guevara images, against the backdrop of Cuban flags. The MSM kept mum, but the conservative blogosphere spread the story. Intrepid blogger Henry Gomez [Babalu Blog], uncovered 15 different pages of Che Guevara well-wishers on the official Obama campaign site.
On November 17, 1962, J Edgar Hoover's FBI discovered that Che Guevara's bombast had substance. They infiltrated and cracked a plot by Cuban agents that targeted Macy's, Gimbel's, Bloomindales and Manhattan's Grand Central Terminal with a dozen incendiary devices and 500 kilos of TNT. The holocaust was set to go off the following week, the day after Thanksgiving. Che Guevara was the head of Cuba's "Foreign Liberation Department" at the time.
A little perspective: for their March 2004 Madrid subway blasts, all 10 of them, that killed and maimed almost 2000 people, al-Qaida used a grand total of 100 kilos of TNT. Castro and Che's agents planned to set off five times that explosive power in the some of the biggest department stores on earth, all packed to suffocation and pulsing with holiday cheer on the year's biggest shopping day.
A month earlier (during what came to be known as the Cuban Missile Crisis) Fidel Castro and Che Guevara had salivated over the prospect of a much more satisfying holocaust. "Say hello to my little friends!" they dreamt of yelling at the Yankee “hyenas,” right before the mushroom clouds. But for the prudence of the Butcher of Budapest [Nikita Khrushchev], they might have pulled it off.
Despite the diligent work of Camelot court scribes and their ever-eager acolytes in the MSM, Publishing and Hollywood, most serious analysts conclude that Fidel and Che's genocidal fantasy was a much bigger factor in Khrushchev's decision to yank the missiles from Cuba than Kennedy's utterly bogus bluster, threats and "blockade."
"The solutions to the world's problems lie behind the Iron Curtain", stressed Ernesto “Che" Guevara who often signed his correspondence with the moniker "Stalin II". "If the nuclear missiles had remained we would have fired them against the heart of the U.S. including New York City," he boasted. "The victory of socialism is well worth millions of atomic victims."
But don't misinterpret Che Guevara’s bluster with actual bravery. His stock in trade was the mass-murder of defenseless men and boys, bound and gagged, is how he demanded his victims. On Oct. 8 1967, upon finally encountering armed and determined enemies,
Che quickly dropped his fully-loaded weapons and whimpered: "Don't Shoot! I'm Che! I'm worth more to you alive than dead!"
Che Guevara's regime also shattered, through executions, jailings, mass larceny and exile, virtually every family on the island of Cuba. Many opponents of the Cuban regime qualify as the longest-suffering political prisoners in modern history, having suffered prison camps, forced labor and torture chambers for a period three times as long in Che Guevara's Gulag as Alexander Solzhenytzin suffered in Stalin's Gulag. But don’t bother looking for any History Channel, NPR, or 20/20 interviews with these heroes. They were victims’ of the Left’s premier poster boys”. Fontova.
So anyhow, how did the Castro’s revolution pan out then? Like most of them, it’s been a genuine disaster on a massive scale and a phony success pretty much through and through. A great imaginary dental plan though. Most Cubans don’t get the opportunity to use their teeth on real food anyway, so it all works out just fine. Yep, it’s been a real worker Club Med, except there’s no Mediterranean, but you still get the club, often repeatedly.
All the cigar, beard and matching disguise sets, the olive drab Foreign Legion hat wearing and pistol slinging paraphernalia of Castro’s Cuba, have been a major part of a Disneyland-like theme park and handy reference point for various fellow travellers, radicals, left-wing phonies and as a perennial predominantly middle-class student icon, for almost half a century. And an irritating and frustrating anomaly for successively bereft, and easily puzzled US governments and like JFK and the Democrats, actually helped the revolution.
The significant difference between the Imaginary Kingdom of er, Cuba and Disneyland, is that almost the only maintenance done on the place with a rat instead of a mouse at the helm, is mostly in the imagination. That’s apart from the post-revolution buildings done in the Soviet cement turd style. This is an approach to architecture that only ever really caught on in various nowhere dumps that have had a catastrophic upheaval, coup or a glorious revolution of the er, proletariat. Read as usually meaning University grad cafe subversives.
Curiously, a slightly similar style has appeared in the West, though of better quality, in the windswept cement monoliths of the ‘Brutalist’ school. Interestingly, they are often found in University construction and other government "It’s a joke, right?!" architecture. In naughty totalitarian states, the ugly utilitarian forms of public buildings are usually designed to make you feel small and insignificant. In your average pleb paradise, it’s then just one more step to make you disappear entirely, permanently and without a trace.
Cuba is more of a fantasy land than Disney could ever manage. Nobody except a five-year old believes Disneyland is real for even a moment, but you can find literally millions of some of the smartest people around, full grown adults with lots of University Degrees and laptops, who believe in the Fidel and Che Show and their ilk, even when you can clearly see the hands inside the corpse-like puppets.
Drop in any time to Fidel Land, but remember to bring plenty of Yankee dollars, as the local currency is about as tradeable as a Toontown token.
"See the colourful natives frozen in aspic in a perpetual and over enthusiastically aged back-lot movie set, circa 1959, as they weave palm fronds into attractive baskets, short wave radios and speedboats".
Yep, there have been some changes lately, though none of them in the slightest bit good. So change, only if you see almost everything getting worse as “change”. Hey, Obama does. For any non-approved writer in one of the three hundred Castro built jails on tiny Cuba, or the average broke and scrambling Cuban in the barrios of Havana, it’s not the Mafia that pimps your own sister anymore, it’s probably you, and the rates have fallen to a bar of soap or some batteries.
It’s all so nifty though, because for a Westerner, you can leave anytime via the airport, instead of during the next full moon and high tide with the aid of a homemade flotation device. Just remember to make any empty and irresponsible gesture towards the right on-ness of the victorious revolution.
There are two Cuba's. The tourist one for all the wilfully deluded international freaks, and the living twenty four hour surveillance Hell for the majority of Cuban prisoners.
For those who probably already have the Che poster, T-shirt or tea towel, try the ever fashionable disingenuous and bankrupt auto cue statement about the benefits of the great Cuban medical system. It’s a total and monstrous lie. It’s so efficient; it creates its own patients! Curiously, I don’t see a lot of people seeking out Soviet era trained medicos locally, especially in Hollywood.
But that’s the thing. It’s easy to chatter on without much fear of contradiction about how the Cuban’s or whoever, should dig these zany experimental life styles. Of course it ain’t one that it’s advocates would tolerate for even a day. And how could foreigners possibly want the fortunate and comfortable life that we take for granted in the West?
"The West is so materialistic and soulless!" Only people with easy access to plenty of the material, but not enough soul, mouth that relentless canard hypocrisy. Well, then give away everything you own and burn the rest, and there you go. It’s all at base a bigoted and racist lie. This pretty much sums up most radical theories postulated by posers and hobbyists.
"I only ever do it in the garage. I’d never bring it into my house. It makes such a mess". As Dylan said: "You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you".
In his public speeches to what’s left of the Cuban public, Castro does an imitation of life seemingly via an early prototype of Soviet animatronics. Che on the other dead-hand, can be invoked with the aid of a kind of séance, but you’ve got to really believe.
"I see a face, on the wall. He says his name is...Che, and he wants a bath, a shave and a cigar, but imported".
Of course, the almost life-like Fidel is so repetitive, mechanical and relentlessly boring, that he could have already been dead for over fifteen years, while Che the actually dead guy and all-purpose revolutionary corpse, seems more alive and vibrant than ever.
You just know that if Cuba had cable, it really would be eighty channels and nothing on. Already it's mostly Fidel’s interminable waxworks stand-up, and parades of circa 1980’s military equipment. Maybe throw in a children’s puppet show in Spanish, whose main theme is thwarting the Yanqui Imperialists with a small stick; and a soap opera from Argentina with a lead that looks more than a little like Ricky Martin with a pencil moustache.
There are two places near Miami for those way past retirement age that are vacuum sealed fantasy lands of dreams and memories for the unreachable, privileged, affluent and senile. One is Florida and the other is the Presidential Palace in Havana.
Perhaps Fidel’s eventual future can be found somewhere in the title of that old Disney film from the 1960’s starring Kurt Russell, 'The Communist Wore Tennis Shoes’. The whole act will finally be seen for what it is. So clearly dated, lame, retarded, empty, phoney, stupid and plain murderous, that there is no longer any viable and sane audience for it, not even among University students trapped seemingly forever in a miserable aspic of irony and fake rebellion.