The Cuban Condition
I see a photo of Fidel Castro. That the man can go out on Cuba's streets and no one puts a bullet in him clearly demonstrates the Cuban condition. To be a Cuban (I am not tired of repeating how I renounced that garbage a long time ago) is a matter that now cloaks the lowest of the low. Fifty-four years of a humiliating dictatorship. Fifty-four years of crimes and vileness and the Cubans remain there, submissive, applauding, and kissing Castro ass.
They are always ready to accuse; always ready to cooperate with their benefactor; always ready to step on the few who rebel; always ready to laugh at the antics of their leader; always ready to talk shit endlessly and to stupidly flirt until the end of time.
What a country of whores and snitches.