I missed out on commemorating this most joyous anniversary last week.
Fifty-one years-ago this week, Ernesto “Che” Guevara got a major dose of his own medicine. Without trial, he was declared a murderer, stood against a wall, and shot. If the saying “What goes around comes around” ever fit, it’s here.
“When you saw the beaming look on Che’s face as his victims were tied to the stake and blasted apart by the firing squad,” said a former Cuban political prisoner to this writer, “you saw there was something seriously, seriously wrong with Che Guevara.”
The one genuine “accomplishment” in Che Guevara’s life was the mass-murder of defenseless men and boys. Under his own gun dozens died. Under his orders thousands crumpled. At everything else, Che Guevara failed abysmally, even risibly. For instance, during his Bolivian “guerrilla” campaign, Che split his forces whereupon they got hopelessly lost and bumbled around, half-starved, half-clothed and half-shod, without any contact with each other for six months before being wiped out. They didn’t even have WWII vintage walkie-talkies to communicate and seemed incapable of applying a compass reading to a map. They spent much of the time walking in circles and were usually within a mile of each other. During this blundering they often engaged in ferocious firefights against each other.
“You hate to laugh at anything associated with Che, who murdered so many,” says Felix Rodriguez, the Cuban-American CIA officer who played a key role in tracking him down in Bolivia. “But when it comes to Che as “guerrilla” you simply can’t help but guffaw.”
So, for many, the question remains: how did such an incurable doofus, sadist and epic idiot attain such iconic status?
Well, essentially, because all Leftists are moronic shitstains nursing violent revenge fantasies against everyone who is more successful, more talented, more courageous, more intelligent, and more worthwhile human beings generally than they’ll ever be. Via Ed, Tim Blair takes the ball and runs with it, by linking the socialists’ standard-issue fever-dreams of mass slaughter as embodied by the hideous and despicable Che to another murderous commie Progtard.
I repeat: burn in Hell, every last demonic man Jack of youse.