It seems the cycle repeats itself, from one generation to the next. This precious gem from yesterday’s New York Times:
“I met a college student who wanted the T-shirts, and she had absolutely no idea who Che was,” Mr. Trigiani said.
You know civilization is at the brink when your friend forwards the Fashion & Style section of the paper to you with the words “Che” and “blog fodder”. Why does this persist? I’m dumbfounded by this adoration of a man who once shot a boy in the head for stealing a loaf of bread.
“I think the more that time goes by, the chicer and chicer Che gets because the less he stands for anything.”
About two years ago, Mr. Symmes said, he discovered a bar in London called Che. “It’s ultradeluxe and a young guy was the owner,” Mr. Symmes said, referring to Hani Farsi, a wealthy Saudi Arabian. “I asked him, `Why Che?’ and he answered, `Oh you know, rebellion and all that.’ “
Oh, I know man. Rebellion and all that. Hey dude, I’m opening up a pub named “Osama”, wanna pitch in? Oh, you don’t know who he is? Don’t worry, man. He’ll look good on our merchandise.