26 November 2016

Fidel Castro dead: on the death of a liar

Some news is nicer than the other to wake up to. So Fidel has gone to that section of hell that is dedicated to the tyrants and their able assistants. I swore long ago to dedicate a post to The Beard when he croaks. The waiting, though, became so interminable that I've started to have my doubts regarding the possibility of that post ever happening. What with the incredible achievements of socialist medicine in Cuba, he might have very well survived me, who knew? But I won that race eventually.

And no, I didn't intend this post as a blanket condemnation of the typical Latin American junta hiding behind the fake facade of the quasi-socialism, of starving its citizens, of institutionalized spying by everyone after everyone, of bringing the world to the brink of nuclear war and so many other crimes. Nope, that future post was meant to be a highly personal missive.

It was planned to describe a boy who, proudly sporting a Pioneer's cravat, marched with other snotty idiots, shouting in unison "Yankees no, Cuba yes!", "Yankees, keep you hands off Cuba!" and similar. That boy was absolutely enamored by the Granma stories, by the fearless Barbudos who, being so few in numbers, made the impossible, deposing an evil and (indeed) corrupted Batista. As he was enamored by other myths, songs, pictures from the enchanting island so far from the fairly grey and dreary Soviet existence.

But time goes by and one learns. Among other things, one learns the true story of the so called "Communism" the junta has chosen as a choice of convenience to make the new Moscow patrons happy. About making Cuba a mercenary power, carrying out military and espionage designs of that patron all over the world. About the summary executions, about the racism...

Then the boy's attitude to Castro became kind of personal. Took some years to wait, though.

So rot in hell with your buddy Che, you scoundrel. And may Cuba become libre eventually.