Unrequited Love

That was awesome. Thanks for posting it. I wish I could have the same attitude as D’Rivera, because whenever I see commies on t-shirts I get really pissed.

I once saw someone wearing a Guavara t-shirt at a concert of Shostakovitch’s music. I regret that I didn’t have the guts to ask him gently whether his choice of costume was intended to be in some way ironical.

“I remember Estebita and Piris dying in blackout cells, the victims of biological experimentation; Diosdado Aquit, Chino Tan, Eddy Molina, and so many others murdered in the forced-labor fields, quarries, and camps. A legion of specters, naked, crippled, hobbling and crawling through my mind, and the hundreds of men wounded and mutilated in the horrifying searches . . . Eduardo Capote’s fingers chopped off by a machete. Concentration camps, tortures, women beaten, soldiers pushing prisoners’ heads into a lake of shit, the beatings of Eloy and Izaguirre. Martín Pérez with his testicles destroyed by bullets. Robertico weeping for his mother.
And in the midst of that apocalyptic vision of the most dreadful and horrifying moments of my life, in the midst of the gray, ashy dust and the orgy of beatings and blood, prisoners beaten to the ground, a man emerged, the skeletal figure of a man wasted by hunger, with white hair, blazing blue eyes, and a heart overflowing with love, raising his arms to the invisible heaven and pleading for mercy for his executioners.
“Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do”. And a burst of machine-gun fire ripping open his breast.”
Against All Hope: The Prison Memoirs of Armando Valladares
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It was just over 38 years ago, when the quaking “Guerrilla hero” was prompted to say: “Don’t Shoot! I’m Che I’m worth more to you alive than dead!”
When he held the hammer it was a much different story. “‘Kneel Down!” Che barked at a 14 year old boy in early 1959. A Cuban gentleman named Pierre San Martin was watching from the window in his prison cell, where the gallant Che had shoved him on bogus charges. In a December 1997, El Nuevo Herald article he recalled the horrors.
“Thirty-two of us were crammed into a cell,” he recalls. “Sixteen of us would stand while the other sixteen tried to sleep on the cold filthy floor. We took shifts that way. Actually, we considered ourselves lucky. After all, we were alive. Dozens were led from the cells to the firing squad daily. The volleys kept us awake. We felt that any one of those minutes would be our last.
“One morning the horrible sound of that rusty steel door swinging open startled us awake and Che’s guards shoved a new prisoner into our cell. His face was bruised and smeared with blood. We could only gape. He was a boy, couldn’t have been much older than 12, maybe 14.
“‘What did you do?’ We asked horrified. ‘I tried to defend my papa,’ gasped the bloodied boy. ‘I tried to keep these Communist sons of b&!tches form murdering him! But they sent him to the firing squad.'”
Soon Che’s goons came back, the rusty steel door opened and they yanked the valiant boy out of the cell. “We all rushed to the cell’s window that faced the execution pit,” recalls Mr. San Martin. “We simply couldn’t believe they’d murder him! Then we spotted him, strutting around the blood-drenched execution yard with his hands on his waist and barking orders –Che Guevara himself.
“Here Che was, finally in his element. In battle he was a sad joke, a bumbler of epic proportions [for details see “Fidel: Hollywood’s Favorite Tyrant”], but up against disarmed and bloodied boys he was a snarling tiger.
“‘ASSASSINS!’ We screamed from our window. ‘MURDERERS!! HOW CAN YOU MURDER A LITTLE BOY!’
“‘I said, KNEEL DOWN!’ Che barked again.
“The boy stared Che resolutely in the face. ‘If you’re going to kill me,’ he yelled. ‘you’ll have to do it while I’m standing! MEN die standing!’
“COWARDS! MURDERERS! Sons of B!$TCHES!” The men yelled desperately from their cells. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” HOW CAN …?!”
“And then we saw Che unholstering his pistol. It didn’t seem possible. But Che raised his pistol, put the barrel to the back of the boy’s neck and blasted. The shot almost decapitated the young boy.
http://www.citizen-journal.net/gmhome/archives/00000236.htm
What, I wonder would be Banderas or Santanas response to these?

More fellators… “An icon, a means of identifying with the anti-establishment, a unique mix of the revolutionary ideals and popstar celebrity…”
http://21stcenturysocialism.com/article/chelebrate_in_london_on_2nd_january_01795.html

Del Toro achieves a whole new level of dickery. Steven Soderbergh isn’t much better; he recently waffled on about how important it is to remember Guevara’s “passion”. It’s like some kind of determined witlessness.