che guevara, apostle of violence

It’s in Spanish and it’s five articles from a group of Venezuelan writers in Paris led by Luis de Lion. But it’s well worth reading if you know Spanish. These articles articulate the bloodthirstiness of castro’s punk and decry the eurotrash’s unconscionable adulation of this thug. I will try to translate as many as I can soon. Lots of ugly pictures of che, too. It’s here.

4 thoughts on “che guevara, apostle of violence”

  1. I left very extensive remarks on Ernesto Guevara in “Che Guevara’s Failings” [Aug. 4th], which no one has apparently read. I will allow myself to quote the concluding remark of one of those posts: “‘Che’s’ posthumous fame as a tee-shirt icon, that is, as a poster boy for materialism, homoeroticism and radical chic, is exactly what this posseur and failure deserves.”

  2. Here are Manuel’s excellent comments on che, verbatim, with his name and fidel’s uncapitalized, as is the common usage here at Babalu:

    The author of the article in LA NACION does not see “che” guevara with rose-coloured glasses, but he does have certain “blind spots” that need to be corrected. There was never anything “heroic” about guevara. The Argentine mercenary was in fact a consummate coward. During the Bay of Pigs invasion, castro sought refuge in a bunker, but guevara did him one better — he actually shot himself in the head rather than face the hordes of “Yankees” which he was sure would overrun the island in the wake of the Brigade 2506. Alas, guevara was so incompetent that he couldn’t even kill himself. Of course, “che’s” suicide attempt was labelled an “accident.” It would be difficult to conceive of anyone being such a miserable marksman that he could shoot himself accidentally in the head with a rifle. The Argentine columnist does not mention either “che” guevara’s personal supervision over the execution of 15,000 men at the Caba?a Fortress, reserving to himself the sadistic pleasure of giving the coup de grace. Nor does he cite the well-known incident of “che” guevara begging for life when he was captured by the CIA (i.e. Cuban exiles) and the Bolivian Army: “Don’t kill me, I am “che!” Like all cowards, he could dish it out but he couldn’t take it. His posthumous fame as a tee-shirt icon, that is, as a poster boy of materialism, homoeroticism and radical chic, is exactly what this posseur and failure deserves.

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