...is a dead che.
Posted on 10/10/2005 1:34:29 PM PDT by Tailgunner Joe
October 8 was the 38th anniversary of the day the quaking "guerrilla hero" was prompted to say: "Don't Shoot! I'm Che! I'm worth more to you alive than dead!"
According to many eyewitness accounts, Che's own victims conducted themselves much differently on their last day alive. "Viva Cuba Libre! Viva Cristo Rey! Abajo Comunismo!"
"The defiant yells would make the walls of La Cabana tremble," wrote eyewitness Armando Valladares.
Outside Havana and in the countryside, Che's murder victims often faced the firing squads untrussed, shoved in front of a recently dug pit with their hands free. "Aim right HERE!" was a favorite among some of the these as they reached below the belt. This was a favorite, they say, of the campesinos Castro and Che's firing squads murdered during the Escambray rebellion. "'Cause y'all ain't got any!" yelled these Cuban rednecks right before the volley shattered their bodies.
Carlos Machado was 15 years old in 1963 when the bullets shattered his body. His twin brother and father collapsed beside Carlos from the same volley. All had resisted Castro's theft of their humble family farm.
On Christmas Eve 1961 Juana Diaz spat in the faces of the executioners who were binding and gagging her. They'd found her guilty of feeding and hiding "bandits" (Cuban rednecks who took up arms to fight the theft of their land). When the blast from that firing squad demolished her face and torso, Juana was six months pregnant.
Traditionally, only one or two members of a firing squad have loaded guns. The rest shoot blanks. Not Castro's and Che's. In these, all ten members shot (and still shoot) live ammo – all ten bullets rip into the staked hero or heroine.
This incorporates more members into Castro's criminal organization, more members to resist desperately any overthrow of the system, with the consequent settling of accounts.
Cuba's population in 1960 was 6.2 million. According to the human Rights group Freedom House, 500,000 Cubans (young and old, male and female) have passed through Castro's prison camps. At one time during 1961-62, 300,000 Cubans were jailed for political offenses islandwide. This makes Castro's political incarceration rate higher than Stalin's and Hitler's.
"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!"
This is from Che's famous "Motorcycle Diaries," recently made into a heartwarming movie by Robert Redford. It seems that Mr. Redford omitted this passage from his touching film. The "acrid odor of gunpowder and blood" never reached Guevara's nostrils from actual combat. It always came from the close-range murders of defenseless men (and boys.)
In actual combat (puerile skirmishes, actually) his imbecilities defy belief. Compared to Che "The Lionhearted" Guevara, Groucho Marx in "Duck Soup" comes across like Hannibal. The century's most famous guerrilla fighter in fact never fought in anything properly describable as a guerrilla war. When he finally started getting a tiny taste of one in Bolivia, he was promptly routed.
"To send men to the firing squad, judicial proof is unnecessary," declared the Cuban Revolution's chief executioner, 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."
By the way, exactly a month after this declaration by his chief executioner, Castro received an engraved invitation: Harvard Law School was asking the honor of his presence to address the school. "Castro visit triumphant!" blared the Harvard Law Record on April 30, 1959. "The audience got what it wanted – the chance of seeing the Cuban hero in person, if not at as close a range as might have been desired!"
Castro brought the house down, the very roof shook with the cheers and whoops of the faculty and student body at the world's most prestigious institution of Western jurisprudence.
One defector claims Che signed 400 death warrants during the first month of the Cuban Revolution. Another says over 600. Cuban journalist Luis Ortega, who knew Che as early as 1954, writes in his book "Yo Soy El Che!" that Guevara sent 1,897 men to the firing squad. In his book "Che Guevara: A Biography," Daniel James writes that Che himself admitted to ordering "several thousand" executions during the first few years of the Castro regime.
The scope of Che Guevara's mass murder is unclear. The exact number of widows and orphans is in dispute. The number of men (and boys) who Che sent, without trial, to be bound to a stake and blown apart by bullets runs from the hundreds to the thousands.
And the mass executioner's T-shirt adorns the very people who oppose capital punishment – as Harvard Law School's faculty certainly did while clapping, hyperventilating and throwing their panties at Castro on stage.
Che's image is particularly ubiquitous on college campuses. But in the wrong places. He belongs in the marketing, PR and advertising departments. His lessons and history are fascinating and valuable, but only in light of P.T. Barnum. One born every minute, Mr. Barnum? If only you'd lived to see the Che phenomenon. Actually, ten are born every second.
His pathetic whimpering on his last day alive: "Don't shoot!" I'm Che!" I'm worth more to you alive than dead!" proves that this murdering swine was unfit to carry his victims' slop buckets.
But he's such a romantic figure to the left.
Truth of what a leftist does is nothing to a lib. It's only feelings, emotions and what they would like to be that matters.
I think his death in that little room was way to easy.
A strange breed, these leftists.
Dude, you are KILLING me. LOL.
But we had such good intentions...
Falling over screaming with laughter. Hurt myself. Hate you...still laughing. Burned the house down...giggle. Ran outside...knocked self out on tree limb due to inability to see from hard laughter causing tears. Ah ha hahahaabwahahahaaa... you're terrible.
FReeper Fintan did the artwork, but I post it whenever I can. It's a hoot!
Horrible isn't it how the Left deifies monsters. I remember friends with posters of Che in their rooms and on their t shirts who had absolutely no clue what he really was. He was simply a romantic figure - attactive and they thought he was struggling for the poor and downtrodden. At 19 I believed it too. Anger, self pity etc.
Later I realized the truth: what Che and Mao and Lenin were and how they were committed to violence bad hatred and ridding the world of capitalism, freedom of the individual, and their greatest object of hatred the Lord and those who believed in Him.
It sickens me that his cult continues but the pathology of the Left still lingers so why wouldn't it?
It blows my mind to see anyone wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt. How can they? It just makes me want to spit on them. I dare any of them to wear that t-shirt down in the Cuban section of Florida.
I taught my son to shoot an M-1 with a Che poster.
I had a friend who had a poster of Che in his dorm room (I'm a college student now).
Long story short, I figured out that friend was a complete moron and no longer associate with him at all. It amazed me how clueless he was about everything.
About a month ago, I was walking into the supermarket, when I saw a bicycle chained to a pillar outside the store. It was adorned with all these dopey Bush-with-devil-horns type stickers, and another "Where are the weapons, Motherf*cker!" sticker.
I stood looking at the monstrosity, chuckling and thinking to myself "What kind of moron rides around on a bike like that? Must be some dopey college kid."
Then the door to the liquor store (next to the supermarket) opens and this dweeby little 50-year-old geek steps out, looking like Napoleon Dynamite's big brother, and wearing the classic Che t-shirt.
I don't normally act like this, but it was a natural and unplanned reaction - I just started laughing hysterically at the guy. He was just so perfect. Right out of dumbass central casting.
He just look at me all sad, as I guffawed at him. He unlocked his bicycle and rode away with his cheap bottle of pink wine, undoubtedly plotting some half-assed angry geek revolution that would create a world where he would be able to order me put to death.
Good luck with that, my little dweeby revolutionary friend!
I know, so many in my generation are blind to history though. "History began the day they were born" for most of them. I can imagine being an escapee from the Island of Cuba and seeing that nonsense on citizens of their adopted homeland, it must be perplexing.
The ultimate irony for me is Che, the capitalist star. On album covers, t-shirts, you name it, he's on it. I thoroughly doubt that most young people wearing a Che t-shirt have a clue who he was or what he was about. For most youth it's about idealism -- nevermind what *kind* of idealism, especially left of center.
LOL! This murdering b*st*rd got off easy. I'm glad he's dead!
That's quite a feat! Wouldn't it have been easier to shoot the Che poster with the M1?
< /grammarnazi>
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