You Got Lucky, Che!


What Fidel Castro must snicker when recalling the blithering jackass Che Guevara:

“You got lucky, Che
You got Lucky , Che
When I found you…”

So how did such an incurable doofus, sadist and epic idiot attain such iconic status?

The answer is that this psychotic and thoroughly unimposing vagrant named Ernesto Guevara de la Serna y Lynch had the magnificent fortune of linking up with modern history’s top press agent, Fidel Castro, who — from the New York Times’ Herbert Matthews in 1957, through CBS’ Ed Murrow in 1959 to CBS’ Dan Rather, to ABC’s Barbara Walters, to most recently, the Atlantic’s Jeffrey Goldberg — always had American reporters anxiously scurrying to his every beck and call and eating out of his hand like trained pigeons.

Had Ernesto Guevara not linked up with Raul and Fidel Castro in Mexico city that fateful summer of 1955 — had he not linked up with a Cuban exile named Nico Lopez in Guatemala the year before who later introduced him to Raul and Fidel Castro in Mexico City — everything points to Ernesto continuing his life of a traveling hobo, panhandling, mooching off women, staying in flophouses and scribbling unreadable poetry.

You Got Lucky, Che!

3 thoughts on “You Got Lucky, Che!”

  1. Look at the two malignant assholes dressed up like soldiers. The one overacting and gesticulating ALWAYS kept himself VERY well out of harm’s way, no more a soldier than I a Martian. The other one, with the frontal bossing of some prehistoric caveman, was not terribly bright, but he was delusional and absurdly arrogant, enough to take some actual military risks (though his ineptitude always got the better of him). Both were aberrant, twisted, evil men in love with themselves, who saw others as simply means to some end, as tools to be used. That’s how Fidel saw Che, and that’s how he used him. As it turned out, Che was even more useful dead, when he could no longer screw anything up and could be packaged and marketed at will, however and whenever Fidel chose to sell him.

    Look at them again. It’s now painfully obvious that they were both full of it, both perverse poseurs, even though Che may have actually believed his hateful claptrap. It should have been obvious at the time, and the fact Cubans bought into such a a pack of pernicious lies speaks mighty poorly of them, or certainly too many of them. That’s why I cringe when I keep hearing what amounts to “Fidel did it,” as if one man could destroy an entire country and culture all by himself. He was only the catalyst, the promoter and purveyor of poison, not unlike Jim Jones and the Guyana tragedy. Cubans ultimately screwed themselves, along with other Cubans and their own descendants. But yes, scapegoats are very attractive, practically irresistible.

  2. …traveling hobo, panhandling, mooching off women, staying in flophouses and scribbling unreadable poetry.

    Ever study the (non-whitewashed) life of Muhammad?

    Or read Sowell’s Marx the Man?

    The template is the same because the nature of the beast is the same. As the introductory to Malignant Self-Love: Pathological Narcissism Revisited began, “Hello. Recognise me? No? Well, you see me all the time.”:

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