[FairfieldLife] Re: Cho, I mean Che
And, Karl Marx was a Racist. He wanted to fuck and kill blacks. ShempMcGurk [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: Date: Mon, 07 May 2007 14:13:33 - Subject: [FairfieldLife] Cho, I mean Che Che and Cho By Humberto Fontova FrontPageMagazine. com | May 7, 2007 His writings revealed a severely troubled young man. My nostrils dilate while savoring the acrid odor of gunpowder and blood. Crazy with fury I will stain my rifle red while slaughtering any enemy that falls in my hands! With the deaths of my enemies I prepare my being for the sacred fight and join the triumphant proletariat with a bestial howl! The term hatred was a constant in his writings: Hatred as an element of struggle; hatred that is intransigent; hatred so violent that it propels a human being beyond his natural limitations, making him violent and cold- blooded killing machine. His deranged fantasies included a continental reign of Stalinism. To achieve this ideal the troubled youth craved, millions of atomic victims. The troubled young Argentine was aloof and contemptuous towards everyone around him: I have no home, no woman, no father, no mother, no brothers. My friends are friends only when they think as I do ideologically. Fortunately for the troubled young Argentine, while a vagabond in Mexico city, he had the good fortune to meet an exceedingly shrewd judge of the human psyche who quickly became his mentor. This shrewd judge, a Cuban exile, properly diagnosed the Argentine's psychosis and made an intervention in the nick of time, channeling the troubled youth's talents and yearnings toward ends considered constructive by the worldwide intelligentsia: establishing Stalinism. Shortly, the Argentine found himself gainfully employed in Cuba. His raging bloodlust was amply indulged in the extermination of anti- Communist Cubans, a species of mammal that enlightened opinion worldwide considers an insufferable pest. At first the troubled young Argentine took an active role in the mass murder of defenseless Cubans, shattering the skulls of the convulsed victims with a blast from his own pistol. But given the volume of these murders the task proved fatiguing and the Argentine soon appointed Cuban henchmen to better facilitate the serial bloodbath. Not that he distanced himself from the slaughter. In fact, he took such a keen delight in the murder process that a special window was constructed in his office allowing him to watch and gloat at the orgy of bloodletting in the field below his office. In this process the Argentine was helping his Cuban mentor establish a personal fiefdom that would prove quite enduring, to put it mildly. Alas, the (live) Argentine's usefulness to his mentor would prove nowhere near as enduring and soon his martyrdom was skillfully arranged. No sane person would wear a Cho t-shirt. No decent person would tolerate one in his surroundings. But Che's Guevara's image is considered the most reproduced image of the century, gracing everything from t-shirts to posters, from thong undies to skateboards, from cellphones to infant Onezies. Hollywood hails him in blockbuster movies and Time magazine celebrates him among the heroes and icons of the century, alongside Mother Theresa. Any serious analyst of Che's guerrilla campaigns cannot escape the conclusion that Ernesto Guevara was actually incapable of applying a compass reading to a map. Yet seemingly sane historians place him alongside Mao Tse Tung of (the 8,000-mile) long march fame. In scope, range and duration the Che Guevara farce far surpasses any other in modern history. In comparison, The South Sea Bubble was a chump operation. Only the modern era's master huckster and media manipulator -- with the eager aid of his ever-faithful accomplices in the Western media, academia, publishing and filmmaking -- could have created a masterful guerrilla warrior and secular saint out of this sadist, coward, and epic idiot. Fidel Castro's influence over the Western intelligentsia can only be described as magical, and renders any public evaluation of his regime among the smart set completely devoid of logic. To wit: He brought the world closest of anyone to Nuclear Armageddon. Yet he was nominated for a Nobel Peace Price by Norwegian parliamentarians. He jailed and tortured at a rate higher than Stalin. Yet Cuba sat on the UN's Human Rights Committee. His legal code mandates 18 months in prison for anyone overheard cracking a joke about him. Yet Jack Nicholson and Chevy Chase sing his praises. He abolished habeas corpus while his chief hangman (Che Guevara himself) declared that judicial evidence is an archaic bourgeois detail. Yet Harvard Law School invited him as their guest of honor, then erupted in cheers and tumultuous ovations after his every third sentence. He drove out a higher percentage of Jews from Cuba than Czar Nicholas drove from Russia. Yet Shoah Foundation founder Stephen
[FairfieldLife] Re: Cho, I mean Che
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, Jason Spock [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: And, Karl Marx was a Racist. He wanted to fuck and kill blacks. In what order? I mean, if I'm supposed to work up a good hate for this guy, it would really help to know whether he wanted to fuck them first and then kill them, or...uh...the other way around. Different order of psycho magnitude, dude.
[FairfieldLife] Re: Cho, I mean Che
I meant oppression and suppression figuratively. Don't take it Literaly TurquoiseB [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: Date: Wed, 09 May 2007 16:46:57 - Subject: [FairfieldLife] Re: Cho, I mean Che In what order? I mean, if I'm supposed to work up a good hate for this guy, it would really help to know whether he wanted to fuck them first and then kill them, or...uh...the other way around. Different order of psycho magnitude, dude. --- Jason Spock jedi_spock@ ... wrote: And, Karl Marx was a Racist. He wanted to fuck and kill blacks. - Need Mail bonding? Go to the Yahoo! Mail QA for great tips from Yahoo! Answers users.
[FairfieldLife] Re: Cho, I mean Che
The Original Chinese Fake A rivetting, first league biography of Mao, that tells the man from the self-manufactured myth, says Ashok Malik Posted online: Sunday, July 31, 2005 IT is a measure of just how thoroughly Jung Chang and Jon Halliday researched their subject that their footnotes and index stretch to 153 pages. The 659 pages that make up the main story are packed with facts, information, revelations about, really, not just Mao but the tempestuous history of China from the end of the Manchu empire in a decade when imperial orders from Turkey to Germany to Austria collapsed to years of civil war, to the surreal violence of the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution, to 1975 and 1976, when, within 17 months of each other, Chiang Kai-shek and Mao Tse-tung died and ended one of historys great rivalries. Yet the strength of this book is not just in what it says but how it says it. Jung Chang and Halliday have produced a first-class biography, a rivetting read that, in some sections, resembles a thriller. In particular, chapter 52 Falling out with Lin Biao is racy cloak and dagger stuff. It ends with Lin Biao and his wife and son fleeing China, only to die in a mysterious air crash. This chapter, more than most others perhaps, brings out the mad dystopia that China had become in Maos last days. In seems an almost unreal world today; yet it is so remarkably evocative of the shadowy and conspiratorial inner chambers of Cold War-era dictators. One manifestation of this was in the use of language. When Lin sought to ridicule a Mao protege the party no. 7, Zhang Chunqiao he called him the Cobra... partly because he wore glasses, and partly because of his snake-like qualities. Lins coterie demanded the Cobra be put to the death of the thousand cuts. Lins son Li-guo, nicknamed the Tiger, is the books doomed tragic hero His parents worshipped him, and his mother had sent agents all over China to look for the most beautiful young woman to be his wife. Tiger chose a sexy fiancee who was intelligent... With her he listened to Western rock music, which he adored, and told her: There will be a day when I will let the Chinese know there is such wonderful music in the world. In 1971, Lins son produced Outline of Project 571: Tiger chose the name because 571 wu-qi-yi has the same pronunciation in Chinese as armed uprising. The paper was an indictment of Mao called B-52 by Tiger, because he had a big stomach full of evil thoughts, each one like a heavy bomb that would kill masses of people who deserved assassination. One plan was to fly helicopters on a suicide mission against Mao on Tiananmen Gate. Tiger, say the authors, saw right through Mao ... as evil. Indeed, establishing this assessment is the principal theme of the book. Jung Chang and Halliday take pains to tell the Mao the man from his self-glorifying myths. They point out he happily invented the heroic crossing of the Dadu river during the Long March, with as Edgar P Snow wrote, being fed the version by Mao Reds... moving forward on their hands and knees, tossing grenade after grenade into the enemy machine-gun nest. The book debunks the story: There was no battle at the Dadu Bridge... There were no Nationalist troops... no battle casualties. The 22-man vanguard who, according to the myth, stormed the bridge in a suicide attack were all alive and well at a celebration the following week. In truth, Mao simply walked across the Dadu Bridge on 31 May 1935. The Dadu Bridge (non)-episode was characteristic of a man ideologically rather vague with no heartfelt commitment to anything other than himself. Indeed Mao joined the Party only when it asked him to manage a bookshop: Mao had become a Communist not after an idealistic journey, or driven by passionate belief, but by being at the right place at the right time, and being given a job that was highly congenial to him. He had been effectively incorporated into an expanding organisation. So in the end, the greatest Communist was only a careerist. Theres hope yet for the UPA government. by Ashok Malik - Never miss an email again! Yahoo! Toolbar alerts you the instant new Mail arrives. Check it out.
