November 29, 2006
Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Right now, in Cuba, there's a massive gathering of intellectuals, world leaders and "prestigious personalities" to celebrate the birthday of their comandante fidel castro. These useful idiots - there really is no better term to describe them - will shower fidel castro and his revolution with accolades and praise. The rest of the world will witness this and believe that castro's revolutionary Cuba is nothing short of a utopia.
Yet none of these "presitigious personalities" have ever had their meals come via ration cards. None of them have ever had to stand in line for hours for a stale loaf of bread. None of them have ever had to worry about repercussions for voicing their thoughts or opinions. None of them have ever lost family members to the sea. None of them have ever had sons or fathers usurped form their homes never to be seen again. None of the have ever witnessed the indoctrination of their children. None of them have ever seen brother against brother for a handful of beans. None of them have ever had their individuality stifled. None of them have ever been slaves of the state. None of them have seen their daughters sell themselves to put food on the table. None of them, not a single one, has ever had to live in Cuba like an average Cuban.
Every word spoken at these celebrations will be another dagger through the Cuban heart. Every song sung will be a piercing of the Cuban soul. Every "Viva fidel!" will be another plunge deeper into the emptiness of deprivation.
I find these events hard to witness. Painful to the point of hearbreak. The world serving as eyewitness to the celebrations of a select few in Cuba while the rest of her population is left only to wonder when their hell will end.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Macbeth (Act V, Scene 5)
Posted by Val Prieto at November 29, 2006 07:37 AM
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Comments
A collection of liars, demagogues, and hypocrites!
Should be a nice tally to check-off to see who makes the list.
Posted by: Piruli ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.babalublog.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at November 29, 2006 08:12 AM
Thank you Val, for your beatiful heart. I'm sitting here weeping, reading your eloquent words. May they all be damned as they damn Cuba.
Posted by: Ziva at November 29, 2006 08:45 AM
Not only have they never lived in Cuba like an average Cuban; these bastards will be wined, dined, and will have all their desires satisfied during their stay. Will someone please post the list?
Posted by: omar at November 29, 2006 09:03 AM
wow - how many Nobel peace prize winning human rights activists!
Posted by: mandingo at November 29, 2006 10:37 AM
I think Piruli summarised perfectly what these people are.
Posted by: K-2 at November 29, 2006 10:55 AM
Valentin, dedico este pedazito de Versos Sencillos de José Martí a ti y todas las otras personas que se suman a este blog por la verdad de Cuba:
Si ves un monte de espumas,
Es mi verso lo que ves,
Mi verso es un monte, y es
Un abanico de plumas.
Mi verso es como un puñal
Que por el puño echa flor:
Mi verso es un surtidor
Que da un agua de coral.
Mi verso es de un verde claro
Y de un carmín encendido:
Mi verso es un ciervo herido
Que busca en el monte amparo.
Mi verso al valiente agrada:
Mi verso, breve y sincero,
Es del vigor del acero
Conque se funde la espada.
Posted by: Tati at November 29, 2006 11:14 AM
Gracias, Tati. You brought tears to my already teary eyes.
Posted by: Val Prieto at November 29, 2006 11:24 AM
Hola everybody! Yes...hard to watch...lately I just stay away from the news...
bad things are happening and there's nothing I can do - why know in advance.
Posted by: nurian at November 29, 2006 11:50 AM
My parents went to cuba about 7 years ago to visit family. My father tells me that he had gone to some sort of market and asked for jamon. The butcher handed the jamon to my dad, guess what... nothing to wrap it in. so if you don't bring a bag or your own wrappers, you'll be carrying the jamon in your hands all the way home. That is, if you make it that far.....Let's see how many of these so called high society, limosine liberals would like to stand in line just to feed their families.
Posted by: JMK at November 29, 2006 12:37 PM
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