Last Saturday night, I was at my local “Big Box” store waiting in line to get a Red Box for me and my wife. Behind me were a rather plain white guy and his rather attractive girlfriend. They were wearing his and her Che T-Shirts. His was a plain old black Che shirt with the standard issue Che Guevara Revolutionary Photo. Hers was the same thing accept hers was cut low so that she was sporting some nice cleavage and also showing her abs. This is the dialogue as I heard it:
She: There was a “Che” flick made about a year ago, let’s check if it is in there.
He: Can we just get something, even one of your “Chick Flicks”.
She: Check for the “Che” flick first. She then adjusted her ahem “cleavage” for a better view.
Here is a little education guys. Che Guevara was not a revolutionary hero; he was a cold blooded killer. Here is the standard issue Wikipedia biography on Ernesto “Che” Guevara:
Ernesto “Che” Guevara June 14 1928 – October 9, 1967), commonly known as El Che or simply Che, was an Argentine Marxist revolutionary, physician, author, intellectual, guerrilla leader, diplomat and military theorist. A major figure of the Cuban Revolution, his stylized visage has become a ubiquitous countercultural symbol of rebellion and global insignia within popular culture.
As a young medical student, Guevara traveled throughout Latin America and was radically transformed by the endemic poverty and alienation he witnessed.] His experiences and observations during these trips led him to conclude that the region’s ingrained economic inequalities were an intrinsic result of capitalism, monopolism, neocolonialism, and imperialism, with the only remedy being world revolution. This belief prompted his involvement in Guatemala‘s social reforms under President Jacobo Arbenz; whose eventual CIA-assisted overthrow solidified Guevara’s political ideology. Later, while living in Mexico City, he met Raúl and Fidel Castro, joined their 26th of July Movement, and sailed to Cuba aboard the yacht, Granma, with the intention of overthrowing U.S.-backed Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista. Guevara soon rose to prominence among the insurgents, was promoted to second-in-command, and played a pivotal role in the victorious two year guerrilla campaign that deposed the Batista regime.
Following the Cuban Revolution, Guevara performed a number of key roles in the new government. These included reviewing the appeals and firing squads for those convicted as war criminals during the revolutionary tribunals, instituting agrarian reform as minister of industries, helping spearhead a successful nationwide literacy campaign, serving as both national bank president and instructional director for Cuba’s armed forces, and traversing the globe as a diplomat on behalf of Cuban socialism. Such positions also allowed him to play a central role in training the militia forces who repelled the Bay of Pigs Invasion and bringing to Cuba the Soviet nuclear-armed ballistic missiles which precipitated the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Additionally, he was a prolific writer and diarist, composing a seminal manual on guerrilla warfare, along with a best-selling memoir about his youthful motorcycle journey across South America. Guevara left Cuba in 1965 to foment revolution abroad, first unsuccessfully in Congo-Kinshasa and later in Bolivia, where he was captured by CIA-assisted Bolivian forces and executed.
Okay, la, la, la hero for the revolution, overthrew the bad capitalist guys led the Cuban armed forces under Castro. La ti da di da. Nice puff piece, who wrote this? Oliver Stone?
Now, let’s try something a little more accurate:
Upon arriving in Havana Jan of 1959 after an utterly bogus guerrilla war, (The New York Time breathlessly reported of “thousands dead in single battles!” The official tally compiled by the U.S embassy after two years of ferocious “civil war” was 184 dead on BOTH sides, half New Orleans’ annual murder tally) — at any rate, upon entering the Cuban capitol, the gallant Che Guevara immediately recognized the moat around Havana’s La Cabana fortress as a handy-dandy execution pit. At Babi-Yar Hitler’s SS had to dig one. Here Che Guevara had one readymade.
By mid 1961 the binding and blindfolding of Castro and Che’s enemies wasn’t enough. Now they started mandating gagging too. The shaken firing squads demanded it. The defiant yells by the men and boys they murdered had badly spooked them, you see. So now as they yanked the martyrs and heroes from the cells, bent their arms back, and bound their hands, two more guards came into play. One grabbed the struggling victim’s hair and jerks his head back, trying to steady him. The other taped his mouth shut.
In 1961 a 20 year-old boy named Tony Chao Flores took his place at the execution stake, but he hobbled to it on crutches.
Two years earlier Tony had been an Anti-Batista rebel. But soon he recognized Cuba’s stealth Stalinization and turned his M-1 carbine on those Soviet proxies.
A ferocious guerrilla war certainly raged in Cuba. But it’s not the one you read about in the New York Times, college textbooks, biographies of Fidel and Che or see in History Channel documentaries on Cuba. And you sure won’t see it in the two Che biopics starring Benicio Del Toro as Che and directed by Oscar winning director Steven Soderbergh due out next year.
This war raged from 1960-66 and was waged by ten times the number of guerrillas who “fought” Batista. Soviet anti-insurgency as practiced from Hungary to Afghanistan to Chechnya crushed Cuba’s (genuine) guerrillas mercilessly. Che Guevara was second in Command of the Cuban regime and had an advisory role in this sickening slaughter of desperate freedom- fighters.
Employing interrogation techniques lovingly imparted by their East German STASI and Russian KGB, mentors, Cuba’s security forces finally pinpointed Tony’s hideout. As always, the Russian-trained Castroites came in overwhelming force and heavily armed with Soviet weapons. As always their foe was suicidally valiant, horribly outnumbered and utterly devoid of allies. Invariably, this characterized the armed exploits of a regime still revered as a “valiant underdog” by millions of imbeciles worldwide.
Castro and Che’s troops finally closed on Tony and captured him after a ferocious firefight where Tony took 17 bullets from their Czech machine guns, mostly in his legs. As reverential and studious Stalinists, the Castroites desperately wanted Tony alive for a show trial, the better to terrorize and cow their subjects. The Reds took him to a hospital and doctors patched him up — not completely now, just enough to keep him alive until his trial. Shortly he was dumped in La Cabana’s dungeons and fed just enough to keep him alive. A month later they went through the farce of a trial and the verdict — naturally — were death by firing squad.
On the way to the stake at the old Spanish fort turned to a prison and execution ground by Che Guevara, Tony was forced to hobble down some cobblestone stairs Again Tony pelted his captors with dreadful curses and stinging abuse, “Russian lackeys!” Tony yelled again as they dragged him off. “Idiots!”
Tony’s insults hit home and stung. Finally a furious guard lost it. “CABRON!” (You B**tard!) He yanked Tony’s crutch away while another gallant Commie — WHUMP! — kicked the crippled freedom-fighter powerfully from behind. Tony tumbled down the long row of steps and finally lay on the cobblestones at the bottom, writhing and grimacing. One of Tony’s bullet-riddled legs had been amputated at the hospital; the other was gangrened and covered in pus. The Castroite guards cackled as they moved in to gag Tony with their tape.
Tony watched them approach while balling his good hand into a fist. Then as the first Red reached him — BASH!! Right across his eyes. “YEEH!” the Castroite staggered back while rubbing his face.
“You!…YOU!…..” his gallant partner rushed towards Tony who was getting a good grip on his crutch with his other hand. BASH!! — Tony smashed the Red with his wooden crutch. “CABRON!” The enraged Castroites yelped for help against their helpless (as always) enemy.
“I’ll never understand how Tony survived that beating,” says eye-witness Hiram Gonzalez who watched from his window on death-row, screaming in helpless rage at the Communist guards. The crippled Tony was almost killed in the kicking, punching, and gun-bashing melee but finally his captors stood off, panting and rubbing their scrapes and bruises. They’d managed to tape the battered boy’s mouth, but Tony pushed the guards away before they bound his hands. Their commander nodded, motioning for them to back off.
Now Tony started crawling towards the splintered and blood-spattered execution stake about fifty yards away, pushing and dragging himself with his hands as his stump of a leg left a trail of blood on the grass. As he neared the stake he’d stop and start pounding himself in the chest. His executioners seemed perplexed. The crippled boy was trying to say something. But his message was muzzled by the gag the gallant friend of George McGovern made obligatory for his thousands of execution victims.
Tony’s blazing eyes and grimace said enough. But no one could understand the boy’s mumblings. Tony kept pushing himself, shutting his eyes tightly from the agony of the effort. His executioners shuffled nervously, raised their rifles, and lowered them. They looked towards their commander who shrugged. Finally Tony reached up to his face and ripped off the tape that George McGovern’s sparkling dinner companion required for his condemned.
The 20 year-old freedom-fighter’s voice boomed out. “Shoot me RIGHT HERE!” roared Tony at his gaping executioners. His voice thundered and his head bobbed with the effort. “Right in the CHEST!” Tony yelled. “Like a MAN!” Tony stopped and ripped open his shirt, pounding his chest and grimacing as his gallant executioners gaped and shuffled. “Right HERE!” he pounded.
On his last day alive, Tony had received a letter in jail from his mother. “My dear son,” she counseled. “How often I’d warned you not to get involved in these things. But I knew my pleas were vain. You always demanded your freedom, Tony, even as a little boy. So I knew you’d never stand for communism. Well, Castro and Che finally caught you. Son, I love you with all my heart. My life is now shattered and will never be the same, but the only thing left now, Tony….. Is to die like a man.”
“FUEGO!!” Castro’s lackey yelled the command and the bullets shattered Tony’s crippled body, just as he’d reached the stake, lifted himself and stared resolutely at his murderers. But Castro’s firing squads usually murder a hero who is standing. The legless Tony presented an awkward target. So some of the volley went wild and missed the youngster. Time for the coup de grace.
Normally it’s one .45 slug that shatters the skull. Eye-witnesses say Tony required… POW!-POW!….POW!– three. Seems the executioner’s hands were shaking pretty badly. But they finally managed. The man Time Magazine hails among the “heroes and icons of the century” had another notch in his gun. Another enemy dispatched — bound and gagged as usual.
Castro and Che were in their mid-thirties when they murdered Tony. According to the authoritative Black Book of Communism their firing squads riddled another 14,000 bound and gagged freedom-fighters. Many (perhaps most) of their murder victims were boys in their early twenties and late-teens. Some were even younger. Carlos Machado and his twin brother Ramon were fifteen when they spat in the face of their communist executioners and died singing their national anthem as lustily as they cursed Che Guevara’s Internationale. Their dad collapsed from same volley alongside them.
Okay, is this worth getting laid for dude? Yes, I understand cleavage, solid abs and long legs. Obviously she works out and takes care of herself fine. But wearing a T-Shirt of a cold blooded killer??? Sorry, no, no way.
Before I got married, I dated this girl, on our second date she took me to some kind of “Progressive Fest” in Chicago. There were booths for the Socialist Party of America, Workers Union, Communist Party of America as well as other left wing stuff. Pro-Choice, Illegal Immigration… Well you get the idea…
On our way home, the girl wanted to know if I would be interested in going to what amounted to a Pro-Choice demonstration in Chicago next week. Except, she called it a “Women’s Health Issues” demonstration covering how women were being denied decent health care because religious zealots were demonstrating in front of “Planned Parenthood” clinics. Well I researched the event and it was a pro-choice demonstration complete with posters of hangers and speakers from NARAL and NOW.
I called her that Wednesday and broke up with her, too bad, I thought, she was hot.
If you want to be with a girl, I can understand having to sit through films like “Chocolat”, “Steel Magnolias”, “About a Boy” or maybe having to sit through an entire afternoon of “Lifetime Movies”. But supporting killers like Che Guevara for a girl, forget it run to the hills, get there FAST and don’t look back.