In no time at all, Gusano has become the finest writer at Babalú, leaving most of the others far behind. Val must be given credit for at least being able to bring new talent onboard even knowing it will eclipse him. Unfortunately, the new life that Gusano is bringing to Babalú George Moneo is sapping from it with his customary pedantry and racism.
So: plus one, minus one.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
"Mambo" Watch "Honors" the Victims of the "13th of March" Tugboat
From "Mambo" Watch [July 16, 2007]:
To Those Who Were Innocent
This past Friday marked a day painfully etched in the collective memory of some Cuban-Americans: The Massacre of the 13th of March Tugboat.
For those who wish to know more about this horrible event can check two very thorough reports by:
- Amnesty International: The Sinking of the "13 de Marzo" Tugboat on 13 July 1994.
- (OAS) Inter-American Commission on Human Rights: Victims of the Tugboat "13 de Marzo" vs. Cuba.
Approximately thirteen years ago, on July 13, 1994, 72 Cubans emigrating their island nation, on a dilapidated tugboat named "13 de Marzo", were confronted at sea by Cuban authorities who proceeded to ram the stranded tugboat and use water cannons. 41 lives were lost.
According to Amnesty International:
"While acknowledging that those on board the '13 de Marzo' had committed a crime by stealing the tugboat, there is no evidence to suggest that they were armed or that they were in a position to offer any serious resistance to the pursuing vessels. Indeed, from many of the survivors’ accounts, it appears that their pleas to surrender and to be rescued may have been deliberately ignored. Amnesty International has therefore concluded that at the very least the force employed by the pursuing vessels to prevent the departure of the '13 de Marzo' was disproportionate to the nature of the crime, especially taking into account the risk to the lives of those on board the '13 de Marzo' who included women and children. The Cuban authorities have argued that those on board the pursuing vessels were dock workers acting on their own initiative and not government or law enforcement officials. However, several of the survivors have doubted this assertion and have alleged that the whole operation appeared to be coordinated and directed by radio from a coast guard vessel. The Cuban coast guard service falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of the Interior. Amnesty International believes that there is sufficient evidence to indicate that it was an official operation and that, if events occurred in the way described by several of the survivors, those who died as a result of the incident were victims of extrajudicial execution."
The Cuban government has stood firm in denying any responsibility for this event, and has also failed to conduct an impartial investigation in the face of international condemnation.
One of the most disappointing aspects of this event is the how the Cuban government and its information sources reported the incident:
"On 14 July 1994, the day after the tragedy, Granma, the official Communist Party newspaper, in an article entitled 'Capsized Tugboat robbed by Anti-Social Elements' described what happened as an 'irresponsible act of piracy promoted and stimulated by counter-revolutionary radio stations, the most reactionary elements of the [Cuban exile] nest of maggots in Miami, and by the well-known failure of the United States to abide by migration agreements.'"
This is language more suited for Saturday nights on Radio Mambi.
There are few words to say about such horrendous events, especially when there are powerful obstacles to find the truth.
"Speaking to the broken and the dead is too difficult for a mouth full of blood. Too holy an act for impure thoughts. Because the dead are free, absolute; they cannot be seduced by blitz. To speak to you [...] I must not claim false intimacy or summon an overheated heart glazed just in time for a camera. I must be steady and I must be clear, knowing all the time that I have nothing to say-no words stronger than the steel that pressed you into itself; no scripture older or more elegant than the ancient atoms you have become."
"The Dead of September 11"
By Toni Morrison
Written September 13, 2001
------
July also happens to mark another great tragedy.
On July 3, 1988, a US Navy warship Vincennes in the Persian Gulf shot down an Iranian civilian passenger jet after apparently mistaking it for an F-14 fighter.
Of the 290 passengers and crew killed, most were pilgrims heading toward Mecca. Iran said that the radio signals of the aircraft could not be mistaken for a fighter jet.
This post is dedicated to all innocent men, women and children who have died mercilessly and have not seen justice.
Pancho:
Well, I am now convinced. Despite all your protestations to the contrary, it is impossible for you to show any real sympathy for Castro's victims even if they are children and babies.
This post is literally dripping with insincerity from the first word to the last. So "some Cuban-Americans" — not all — mourned the Massacre of the 13th of March Tugboat? What did the others do? They didn't mourn it? Has any Cuban-American ever spoken one word of support for the Massacre? The Cuban regime and its apologists have spoken millions.
You also seem to believe that Granma is an honest purveyor of information, and when its mendacious report on the Tugboat Massacre does not quite live-up to your expectations, you accuse it of exhibiting conduct more reminiscent of Radio Mambí.
The difference, of course, is that you have the choice to listen to Radio Mambí or no. Cubans on the island have no choice. Granma is the only national newspaper and the organ of the Cuban Communist Party. Radio Mambí's talk shows present opinion which is labelled as opinion. Granma also presents opinion but calls it news. Can you even understand the difference?
Amnesty International is not much better than you. It "acknowledges" in its Report on the Massacre "that those on board the '13 de Marzo' had committed a crime by stealing the tugboat." Really? The children and babies, too? They were "criminals?" From whom was the tugboat stolen? The tugboat belonged to the Cuban people. The thief is the Castro regime which confiscated the property of the Cuban people and exploits their blood and sweat to finance the criminal enterprise otherwise known as the "Castro government."
I also find it highly offensive that you should quote the words of an apologist for the Castro regime, Toni Morrison, to honor the victims of Castro's Massacre.
Finally, your attempt to link an incident of war to a premeditated act of terrorism committed by the Castro regime against its own people is the ne plus ultra of cynicism and disingenuousness, which have always been the hallmarks of your writings on Cuba.
http://mambiwatch.blogspot.com/2007/07/to-those-who-were-innocent.html
To Those Who Were Innocent
This past Friday marked a day painfully etched in the collective memory of some Cuban-Americans: The Massacre of the 13th of March Tugboat.
For those who wish to know more about this horrible event can check two very thorough reports by:
- Amnesty International: The Sinking of the "13 de Marzo" Tugboat on 13 July 1994.
- (OAS) Inter-American Commission on Human Rights: Victims of the Tugboat "13 de Marzo" vs. Cuba.
Approximately thirteen years ago, on July 13, 1994, 72 Cubans emigrating their island nation, on a dilapidated tugboat named "13 de Marzo", were confronted at sea by Cuban authorities who proceeded to ram the stranded tugboat and use water cannons. 41 lives were lost.
According to Amnesty International:
"While acknowledging that those on board the '13 de Marzo' had committed a crime by stealing the tugboat, there is no evidence to suggest that they were armed or that they were in a position to offer any serious resistance to the pursuing vessels. Indeed, from many of the survivors’ accounts, it appears that their pleas to surrender and to be rescued may have been deliberately ignored. Amnesty International has therefore concluded that at the very least the force employed by the pursuing vessels to prevent the departure of the '13 de Marzo' was disproportionate to the nature of the crime, especially taking into account the risk to the lives of those on board the '13 de Marzo' who included women and children. The Cuban authorities have argued that those on board the pursuing vessels were dock workers acting on their own initiative and not government or law enforcement officials. However, several of the survivors have doubted this assertion and have alleged that the whole operation appeared to be coordinated and directed by radio from a coast guard vessel. The Cuban coast guard service falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of the Interior. Amnesty International believes that there is sufficient evidence to indicate that it was an official operation and that, if events occurred in the way described by several of the survivors, those who died as a result of the incident were victims of extrajudicial execution."
The Cuban government has stood firm in denying any responsibility for this event, and has also failed to conduct an impartial investigation in the face of international condemnation.
One of the most disappointing aspects of this event is the how the Cuban government and its information sources reported the incident:
"On 14 July 1994, the day after the tragedy, Granma, the official Communist Party newspaper, in an article entitled 'Capsized Tugboat robbed by Anti-Social Elements' described what happened as an 'irresponsible act of piracy promoted and stimulated by counter-revolutionary radio stations, the most reactionary elements of the [Cuban exile] nest of maggots in Miami, and by the well-known failure of the United States to abide by migration agreements.'"
This is language more suited for Saturday nights on Radio Mambi.
There are few words to say about such horrendous events, especially when there are powerful obstacles to find the truth.
"Speaking to the broken and the dead is too difficult for a mouth full of blood. Too holy an act for impure thoughts. Because the dead are free, absolute; they cannot be seduced by blitz. To speak to you [...] I must not claim false intimacy or summon an overheated heart glazed just in time for a camera. I must be steady and I must be clear, knowing all the time that I have nothing to say-no words stronger than the steel that pressed you into itself; no scripture older or more elegant than the ancient atoms you have become."
"The Dead of September 11"
By Toni Morrison
Written September 13, 2001
------
July also happens to mark another great tragedy.
On July 3, 1988, a US Navy warship Vincennes in the Persian Gulf shot down an Iranian civilian passenger jet after apparently mistaking it for an F-14 fighter.
Of the 290 passengers and crew killed, most were pilgrims heading toward Mecca. Iran said that the radio signals of the aircraft could not be mistaken for a fighter jet.
This post is dedicated to all innocent men, women and children who have died mercilessly and have not seen justice.
Pancho:
Well, I am now convinced. Despite all your protestations to the contrary, it is impossible for you to show any real sympathy for Castro's victims even if they are children and babies.
This post is literally dripping with insincerity from the first word to the last. So "some Cuban-Americans" — not all — mourned the Massacre of the 13th of March Tugboat? What did the others do? They didn't mourn it? Has any Cuban-American ever spoken one word of support for the Massacre? The Cuban regime and its apologists have spoken millions.
You also seem to believe that Granma is an honest purveyor of information, and when its mendacious report on the Tugboat Massacre does not quite live-up to your expectations, you accuse it of exhibiting conduct more reminiscent of Radio Mambí.
The difference, of course, is that you have the choice to listen to Radio Mambí or no. Cubans on the island have no choice. Granma is the only national newspaper and the organ of the Cuban Communist Party. Radio Mambí's talk shows present opinion which is labelled as opinion. Granma also presents opinion but calls it news. Can you even understand the difference?
Amnesty International is not much better than you. It "acknowledges" in its Report on the Massacre "that those on board the '13 de Marzo' had committed a crime by stealing the tugboat." Really? The children and babies, too? They were "criminals?" From whom was the tugboat stolen? The tugboat belonged to the Cuban people. The thief is the Castro regime which confiscated the property of the Cuban people and exploits their blood and sweat to finance the criminal enterprise otherwise known as the "Castro government."
I also find it highly offensive that you should quote the words of an apologist for the Castro regime, Toni Morrison, to honor the victims of Castro's Massacre.
Finally, your attempt to link an incident of war to a premeditated act of terrorism committed by the Castro regime against its own people is the ne plus ultra of cynicism and disingenuousness, which have always been the hallmarks of your writings on Cuba.
http://mambiwatch.blogspot.com/2007/07/to-those-who-were-innocent.html
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Madhouse for the Stupid and Obnoxious
Who Shall Be Inducted First?
As if I need to ask.Latest Intelligence: Ambassador Fantomas has fled across the border to Babalunia just ahead of the guys with the nets.
Later Intelligence: Fantomas is arrested at border under a charge of Treason for having continually asserted his independence from Val without Val's permission.
Still Later Intelligence: Fantomas is made a trustee in prison. At the first opportunity, he breaks the trust and runs away. Fantomas is at large.
Much Later Intelligence: The fugitive Fantomas re-enters RCAB territory as an illegal migrant.
Last Intelligence: Fantomas hides out in an empty building that turns out to be the RCAB Madhouse. Discovered, he is given asylum there as an inmate.
Fantomas is in The Madhouse.
RULES OF THE MADHOUSE
1). An inmate of The Madhouse may only comment in The Madhouse.
2). If an inmate attempts to comment anywhere else, his comments will be transferred to The Madhouse.
3). An inmate may petition for his release at any time subject to the approval of Vana and Agustin, Administrators of The Madhouse, who alone shall determine whether he has been restored to sanity and civility.
Tocororo Speaks Again
[When I heard the news of Tocororo's death, my first reaction was to search the internet for his blog. But Spanglish a lo cubano had disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed. Killcastro and Charlie Bravo were also searching on their own, but encountered the same luck as I did. Killcastro explained that Tocororo had deleted his blog in a moment of despair, thinking perhaps, as Bolívar did, that he had ploughed the seas. It is not surprising that such a humble man should think so little of what others valued highly. His death, however, made the recovery of his writings a debt of honor for all who cherished them and their author. Nothing ever dies in cyberspace and I believe that eventually it will be possible to unearth and preserve his entire legacy for all Cubans and particularly for his own children. As they grow older his writings will become a passageway into the mind and heart of their noble father.
This is what remains: one of a dozen posts, saved by the Web Archive (or Wayback Machine) as it crawled cyberspace. One of many pages but all that remains for now. Sadly, Tocororo's words are all to true today and hold valuable lessons for us. We have reproduced it exactly as we found it:]
Thursday, December 15, 2005
the plague
Since the beginning of civilization we always had plagues, many plagues had torture the earth, many have come and go, and others come and go and reappear again to cause more trouble.
The only plague that has managed to stay with us and disguising herself as a truthful human is the snitch plague.
I have suffer at first hand the destructive power of the chivatos,the lingering battle between the good and the evil in Cuba can’t never be won until that plague comes near extinction.
The chivatos are responsible for most of the cubano suffering, in fact; the old cock sucker will have fall long time ago without the help of los chivatos.
I picture him with out the chivas a marionette with broken strings.
The snitch has no friends, no family, and no morals.
Thousands incarcerated and murdered due to the chivatos sneaky activities.
Many more of the chivatos penetrate the resistance; they become leaders to their fellow fighters, and when they strike, the whole cell ends up in jail doing 20 years or plus.
That is why my friends Cubans are so mistrustful, paranoid and afraid.
Many of the chivas sometimes change their minds and decide they have cause enough damage or le han pisado un callo y brincan and next thing you know, the chiva is living in the states.
Rats nothing more than rats, when they don’t find that piece of cheese, they move to the next door basement.
http://web.archive.org/web/20051216135613/http://spanglishalocubano.blogspot.com/
This is what remains: one of a dozen posts, saved by the Web Archive (or Wayback Machine) as it crawled cyberspace. One of many pages but all that remains for now. Sadly, Tocororo's words are all to true today and hold valuable lessons for us. We have reproduced it exactly as we found it:]
Thursday, December 15, 2005
the plague
Since the beginning of civilization we always had plagues, many plagues had torture the earth, many have come and go, and others come and go and reappear again to cause more trouble.
The only plague that has managed to stay with us and disguising herself as a truthful human is the snitch plague.
I have suffer at first hand the destructive power of the chivatos,the lingering battle between the good and the evil in Cuba can’t never be won until that plague comes near extinction.
The chivatos are responsible for most of the cubano suffering, in fact; the old cock sucker will have fall long time ago without the help of los chivatos.
I picture him with out the chivas a marionette with broken strings.
The snitch has no friends, no family, and no morals.
Thousands incarcerated and murdered due to the chivatos sneaky activities.
Many more of the chivatos penetrate the resistance; they become leaders to their fellow fighters, and when they strike, the whole cell ends up in jail doing 20 years or plus.
That is why my friends Cubans are so mistrustful, paranoid and afraid.
Many of the chivas sometimes change their minds and decide they have cause enough damage or le han pisado un callo y brincan and next thing you know, the chiva is living in the states.
Rats nothing more than rats, when they don’t find that piece of cheese, they move to the next door basement.
http://web.archive.org/web/20051216135613/http://spanglishalocubano.blogspot.com/
Another "Lost" Post by Tocororo
From Spanglish a lo cubano:
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
un pedazo quedo en mi cuba
Yesterday was one crazy day. The first thing that happen to me was that I was talking to a good friend of mine about cuba and the good things that the blogers are doing in the net against castro.
This guy was amazed about the things that are happening on the net against cagastro.
And he said to me – this stuff that you doing is dangerous verdad?
Yo solo lo mire y le dije tomas …esta gente acabaron con my childhood...this people seed it the hatred in me since I was a little boy ..why I am going to be afraid? I suffer so much for nine years …they grab me by the hand when I was 6 years old and they call me gusano ….when I watch my dad get arrested for no reason …que mas me van a quitar ..no pueden quitarme nada porque ellos fueron los que me enseñaron a odiarlos …yo vi a mi abuelo morir por culpa de ellos sin ver tierras de libertad. I really avoid to talk about that but some how he understood.
then the same day I was jogging and some guy with the che t shirt was running along me and I made a comment to my friend about el che, I was not even talking to this particular shit head and the fucking guy call me a capitalistic rich asshole, and I lose my temper I ran towards him y lo jale por la camisa and I challenge him to fight me, well he did not fight me, he walk away but I am the kind of Cuban que no habla mucho ..bastante pase yo en mi tierra pa quedarme callao ahora como un comemierda.
http://web.archive.org/web/20051216135613/http://spanglishalocubano.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
un pedazo quedo en mi cuba
Yesterday was one crazy day. The first thing that happen to me was that I was talking to a good friend of mine about cuba and the good things that the blogers are doing in the net against castro.
This guy was amazed about the things that are happening on the net against cagastro.
And he said to me – this stuff that you doing is dangerous verdad?
Yo solo lo mire y le dije tomas …esta gente acabaron con my childhood...this people seed it the hatred in me since I was a little boy ..why I am going to be afraid? I suffer so much for nine years …they grab me by the hand when I was 6 years old and they call me gusano ….when I watch my dad get arrested for no reason …que mas me van a quitar ..no pueden quitarme nada porque ellos fueron los que me enseñaron a odiarlos …yo vi a mi abuelo morir por culpa de ellos sin ver tierras de libertad. I really avoid to talk about that but some how he understood.
then the same day I was jogging and some guy with the che t shirt was running along me and I made a comment to my friend about el che, I was not even talking to this particular shit head and the fucking guy call me a capitalistic rich asshole, and I lose my temper I ran towards him y lo jale por la camisa and I challenge him to fight me, well he did not fight me, he walk away but I am the kind of Cuban que no habla mucho ..bastante pase yo en mi tierra pa quedarme callao ahora como un comemierda.
http://web.archive.org/web/20051216135613/http://spanglishalocubano.blogspot.com/
A New Low in Babalú's Decline
Where Have All the Babalunians Gone?
In what must be a new low in the decline of the "dean of Cuban-American blogs," Babalú has received a total of 44 comments for its last 20 posts. Nine of the 20 posts received 0-1 comments.
I would advise those who think that RCAB has no readers to scramble over to Babalú and leave some comments because they desperately need you. Now.
If such a fate had befallen the Review, I would close this blog.
In what must be a new low in the decline of the "dean of Cuban-American blogs," Babalú has received a total of 44 comments for its last 20 posts. Nine of the 20 posts received 0-1 comments.
I would advise those who think that RCAB has no readers to scramble over to Babalú and leave some comments because they desperately need you. Now.
If such a fate had befallen the Review, I would close this blog.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Tocororo Libre Died A Hero
When I wrote my tribute to Tocororo, I asked two things: that is name be made known and his work conserved. We owed, I thought, no less to such a man who exemplified in his short life an ennobling and selfless love of country.
Well, we have learned his name and the circumstances of his death. His name was Hugo Valdés, a resident of Union City, NJ. And he drowned saving the life of his 10-year-old son, in Myrtle Beach, SC. on July 4th. Add to that the fact that Tocororo suffered from glaucoma and was nearly blind and the picture is finally complete of this moral giant.
It is said that the elements of our death are found in our lives. Tocororo loved the ocean and all its creatures. For him, it was the ocean that connected him to our lost country and it was through that passage that he returned to it, much, much too soon to satisfy any sense of justice, but at the time and place where the sacrifice of his life was the most meaningful. The tragedy is that Tocororo died. The blessing is that he did not die in vain.
I actually read the story of his death in the local newspaper and was deeply moved by it even without making the connection that the hero was Tocororo. What really can one say? It is a Greek tragedy and also the Christian story of redemption. The greatest, purest love in life calls forth the greatest sacrifice. Can there be a death more natural and more human? Can there be a greater vindication of man's innate nobility or more convincing proof that man, created in God's image, like God is capable of perfect love?
We extend our condolences to his wife of 12 years, Marelys Valdés, his three children Belinda (6), Teresa (5) and David (10), his parents and all his family.
http://ademas-ac.blogspot.com/
Well, we have learned his name and the circumstances of his death. His name was Hugo Valdés, a resident of Union City, NJ. And he drowned saving the life of his 10-year-old son, in Myrtle Beach, SC. on July 4th. Add to that the fact that Tocororo suffered from glaucoma and was nearly blind and the picture is finally complete of this moral giant.
It is said that the elements of our death are found in our lives. Tocororo loved the ocean and all its creatures. For him, it was the ocean that connected him to our lost country and it was through that passage that he returned to it, much, much too soon to satisfy any sense of justice, but at the time and place where the sacrifice of his life was the most meaningful. The tragedy is that Tocororo died. The blessing is that he did not die in vain.
I actually read the story of his death in the local newspaper and was deeply moved by it even without making the connection that the hero was Tocororo. What really can one say? It is a Greek tragedy and also the Christian story of redemption. The greatest, purest love in life calls forth the greatest sacrifice. Can there be a death more natural and more human? Can there be a greater vindication of man's innate nobility or more convincing proof that man, created in God's image, like God is capable of perfect love?
We extend our condolences to his wife of 12 years, Marelys Valdés, his three children Belinda (6), Teresa (5) and David (10), his parents and all his family.
http://ademas-ac.blogspot.com/
The Madhouse
Fantomas is Val & Company's ambassador to the Review of Cuban-American Blogs. He used to be also the Minister Plenipotentiary from BUCL until its late implosion. You know what they say about ambassadors: they are the people that the ruler wants out of the country.
I have respected fantomas' diplomatic credentials, even if I chose not to appoint an ambassador to represent RCAB's interests in the wastelands of Babalunia. But Fantomas, as he has amply demonstrated here, is no diplomat. In fact, it would be hard to conceive of anyone who is less qualified by temperament or education to be an ambassador. We could, of course, declare him persona non grata and banish him from our domain. But we are not Babalú. RCAB is a republic of ideas and so it will remain. However, as some of our most respected citizens have pointed out, fantomas is clearly not in possession of his mental faculties and may constitute a danger to himself and others. It is for this reason that we have been obliged to establish a Madhouse in our community.
Fantomas has been in the habit of making outrageous, insulting and threatening statements here which he later would delete when he was briefly restored to sanity (or what passes for sanity with fantomas). As it would go against our principles and the very rationale for this blog to censor, delete or ban him, and since his spells of sanity have become rarer and rarer every day and I can no longer depend on him to police himself, I have no choice but to isolate and contain the virus (as mental illness will some day be shown to be).
The Madhouse will open for business when fantomas makes his next obscene, deranged or threatening comment. Those so inclined can visit The Madhouse at any time and commune with its inhabitant(s) if they so desire.
Today, incidentally, is Bastille Day, and it was precisely the anniversary of this calamitous event which gave me the idea for The Madhouse; for when the rabble "liberated" the Bastille they found it populated by just one homicidal madman, whom, of course, they quickly set free, foreshadowing the insanity that was soon to grip all of France.
Our Madhouse will not be subject to attack and will be secure at all times. You can feel as safe there as at a zoo. Buckets will be made available with which to splash the inmates with ice water in the hope of snapping them back to reality.
I have respected fantomas' diplomatic credentials, even if I chose not to appoint an ambassador to represent RCAB's interests in the wastelands of Babalunia. But Fantomas, as he has amply demonstrated here, is no diplomat. In fact, it would be hard to conceive of anyone who is less qualified by temperament or education to be an ambassador. We could, of course, declare him persona non grata and banish him from our domain. But we are not Babalú. RCAB is a republic of ideas and so it will remain. However, as some of our most respected citizens have pointed out, fantomas is clearly not in possession of his mental faculties and may constitute a danger to himself and others. It is for this reason that we have been obliged to establish a Madhouse in our community.
Fantomas has been in the habit of making outrageous, insulting and threatening statements here which he later would delete when he was briefly restored to sanity (or what passes for sanity with fantomas). As it would go against our principles and the very rationale for this blog to censor, delete or ban him, and since his spells of sanity have become rarer and rarer every day and I can no longer depend on him to police himself, I have no choice but to isolate and contain the virus (as mental illness will some day be shown to be).
The Madhouse will open for business when fantomas makes his next obscene, deranged or threatening comment. Those so inclined can visit The Madhouse at any time and commune with its inhabitant(s) if they so desire.
Today, incidentally, is Bastille Day, and it was precisely the anniversary of this calamitous event which gave me the idea for The Madhouse; for when the rabble "liberated" the Bastille they found it populated by just one homicidal madman, whom, of course, they quickly set free, foreshadowing the insanity that was soon to grip all of France.
Our Madhouse will not be subject to attack and will be secure at all times. You can feel as safe there as at a zoo. Buckets will be made available with which to splash the inmates with ice water in the hope of snapping them back to reality.
Friday, July 13, 2007
BUCL (2007-2007)
Since I pointed out to them in the beginning that the acronym BUCL (pronounced BUCKLE) means "surrender," The BUCLers have dreaded having their organization referred to as BUCKLE, and, yet, nonetheless, that's what everybody called it from the onset. Now, on the eve of BUCL's demise, the superannuated BUCLers are finally calling it what everybody else calls it: BUCKLE. Even Henry referred to it as such on The Babalu (Faux) Radio Hour this week.
We have had several decent and honorable people die this week. And one scoundrel, which was not even an incorporated organizational entity.
Ignominous in conception, calamitous in execution and barren in results, BUCL will go to its grave mourned by no one, not even its acolytes, who are really more relieved than saddened by its implosion.
Let us stand up and give Henry a round of applause for knowing how to do something that most men are fain to do — quit.
BUCL (2007-2007)
Unmourned, Unloved and Under.
R.I.P.
We have had several decent and honorable people die this week. And one scoundrel, which was not even an incorporated organizational entity.
Ignominous in conception, calamitous in execution and barren in results, BUCL will go to its grave mourned by no one, not even its acolytes, who are really more relieved than saddened by its implosion.
Let us stand up and give Henry a round of applause for knowing how to do something that most men are fain to do — quit.
BUCL (2007-2007)
Unmourned, Unloved and Under.
R.I.P.
BUCL's Last Hurrah
Well, it is over. Or at least that's what BUCL's unelected leader declared in the latest edition of The Babalu (Faux) Radio Hour. The 2nd Campaign has followed the first into the dustbin of history, another exercise in empty if earnest bravado which, in the end, signified nothing. After the monumental failure of its first campaign, BUCL became somewhat less ambitious. The Campaign Against Spain sought to bring a nation to its knees; the 2nd Campaign limited its scope to three or four addlebrained Britons. Well, they didn't BUCL either but remained true to their lifelong Marxist convictions. It was not enough for Henry that these men were hypocrites, long past their prime and virtually unknown among our countrymen; the kind of spokesmen that should be shunned rather than courted. Henry had this infantile obsession with bringing his childhood idols to the cause, much as if Jose Marti had misdirected his efforts towards getting "La Belle Otero" (the Spanish dancer of Verse IX of the Versos sencillos) to make a declaration in favor of Cuban independence.
Sting and The Police in the person of Andy Summers would not budge even when confronted by Henry and his incendiary device (the vigil candle which he admits he was holding when he approached the dimunitive Summers in the restaurant foyer). Fate gave him the opportunity to make his pitch to one of the band members in person; proobably the 63rd or 84th pitch which guitarist Andy Summers heard that day and distinct from the others only because it was not a business proposition. But no luck. Even if Henry had been 1000 times more persuasive, he could not have moved them. Unless you are carrying a suitcase of cash it is unlikely that these "humanitarians" could be moved to assist a blindman across the street, or even to tell their chauffeur to swerve in order to miss him.
Having failed to move their hearts, Henry next attempted to shame them into doing the right thing. Sting and The Police being as shameless as they are, this was quite a tall order. But the banner was painted and the airplane leased, so what the heck. He rubbed the BUCL banner in their faces in the middle of their Miami concert, unaware, perhaps, that these drugged-out sexagenerians were lucky not to fall off the stage and could certainly not be expected to read a banner at 200 feet let alone 2000; for them, the banner, if they saw it at all, was a weird-looking cloud, recumbant eye-chart or a tickertape in the sky with diamonds. It would actually be worse if Sting and The Police had actually managed to read it, for then their non-reaction was an intentional rebuff of the BUCLers and the Cuban cause, purchased and paid for by the BUCLers themselves. At least Henry didn't waste his time or BUCL's money printing up flyers for the concert-goers, who were probably in as "confused" a state as Sting and Police, having just paid $250 to discover that you can't go home again, that youth and their youthful illusions are dead.
It was pointed out to us that on the Pérez Roura Show over Radio Mambí Henry had agreed to a boycott of Sting and The Police if they failed to live up to their good opinion of them. It is well that he has left bad enough alone. To continue this charade would have bordered on the masochistic.
Henry says that he will take 2 weeks off before the start of the Third Campaign. He should take 2 months off or better yet 2 years. Perhaps by then the next campaign may not be necessary or he will finally have grown up. In this time of reflection, however, Henry should consider a campaign to democratize BUCL. Martí founded his own "BUCL" 116 years ago (the PRC) which differed from Henry's organization only in that it was successful. But Marti did not ordain himself leader by divine right but was elected and re-elected by by its members. Now I have no doubt that the 6 or so members of BUCL would elect Henry Gomez Grand Puma or anything else he wanted (hopefully not Delegate). Even if it's only pro forma Henry should submit his leadership to the will of its members (if we may still use the plural in relation to its membership). Having established his democratic bona fides Henry can then preach democracy to the Cuban people. The last thing that the Cuban people need is another caudillo (though, thankfully, Henry would make the most risible caudillo in history).
So, Henry, my advice to you is to get on your white horse — which hopefully won't BUCL — and ride off into the sunset or twilight or whatever you think best becomes you.
POSTSCRIPT:
Do your funny bone a favor and listen to this week's canned Babalú [Faux] Radio Hour. It was the funniest one to date with the BUCLERS trying to credit Henry with BUCL's "success," and Henry, angrily, trying his best to evade their praise.
Sting and The Police in the person of Andy Summers would not budge even when confronted by Henry and his incendiary device (the vigil candle which he admits he was holding when he approached the dimunitive Summers in the restaurant foyer). Fate gave him the opportunity to make his pitch to one of the band members in person; proobably the 63rd or 84th pitch which guitarist Andy Summers heard that day and distinct from the others only because it was not a business proposition. But no luck. Even if Henry had been 1000 times more persuasive, he could not have moved them. Unless you are carrying a suitcase of cash it is unlikely that these "humanitarians" could be moved to assist a blindman across the street, or even to tell their chauffeur to swerve in order to miss him.
Having failed to move their hearts, Henry next attempted to shame them into doing the right thing. Sting and The Police being as shameless as they are, this was quite a tall order. But the banner was painted and the airplane leased, so what the heck. He rubbed the BUCL banner in their faces in the middle of their Miami concert, unaware, perhaps, that these drugged-out sexagenerians were lucky not to fall off the stage and could certainly not be expected to read a banner at 200 feet let alone 2000; for them, the banner, if they saw it at all, was a weird-looking cloud, recumbant eye-chart or a tickertape in the sky with diamonds. It would actually be worse if Sting and The Police had actually managed to read it, for then their non-reaction was an intentional rebuff of the BUCLers and the Cuban cause, purchased and paid for by the BUCLers themselves. At least Henry didn't waste his time or BUCL's money printing up flyers for the concert-goers, who were probably in as "confused" a state as Sting and Police, having just paid $250 to discover that you can't go home again, that youth and their youthful illusions are dead.
It was pointed out to us that on the Pérez Roura Show over Radio Mambí Henry had agreed to a boycott of Sting and The Police if they failed to live up to their good opinion of them. It is well that he has left bad enough alone. To continue this charade would have bordered on the masochistic.
Henry says that he will take 2 weeks off before the start of the Third Campaign. He should take 2 months off or better yet 2 years. Perhaps by then the next campaign may not be necessary or he will finally have grown up. In this time of reflection, however, Henry should consider a campaign to democratize BUCL. Martí founded his own "BUCL" 116 years ago (the PRC) which differed from Henry's organization only in that it was successful. But Marti did not ordain himself leader by divine right but was elected and re-elected by by its members. Now I have no doubt that the 6 or so members of BUCL would elect Henry Gomez Grand Puma or anything else he wanted (hopefully not Delegate). Even if it's only pro forma Henry should submit his leadership to the will of its members (if we may still use the plural in relation to its membership). Having established his democratic bona fides Henry can then preach democracy to the Cuban people. The last thing that the Cuban people need is another caudillo (though, thankfully, Henry would make the most risible caudillo in history).
So, Henry, my advice to you is to get on your white horse — which hopefully won't BUCL — and ride off into the sunset or twilight or whatever you think best becomes you.
POSTSCRIPT:
Do your funny bone a favor and listen to this week's canned Babalú [Faux] Radio Hour. It was the funniest one to date with the BUCLERS trying to credit Henry with BUCL's "success," and Henry, angrily, trying his best to evade their praise.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Lady Bird Johnson (1913-2007)
Claudia Alta Johnson, best known as Lady Bird, the worthy wife of a great American and the most successful first lady of modern times, has passed away.
We refer our readers to the tribute we wrote when we heard the news of her illness.
May she rest in peace.
http://reviewofcuban-americanblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/lyndon-baines-johnson-our-statue-of.html
We refer our readers to the tribute we wrote when we heard the news of her illness.
May she rest in peace.
http://reviewofcuban-americanblogs.blogspot.com/2007/06/lyndon-baines-johnson-our-statue-of.html
BUCL Is Killing Babalú
Val is fiddling while Rome burns.
BUCL is killing Babalú.
Please note that not one single comment is ever left on any post which Babalú dedicates to BUCL. It is as if it were the vómito negro. No one wants any part of it. They want it to go away and show their disdain for it by ignoring it altogether. In fact, as I've pointed out before, the Babalú commenters are deserting the sinking ship. For a blog that once claimed 2000-3000 daily visits, it is an ominous sign when even its most successful posts amount to no more than 13 comments.
Val & Company have placed all their eggs in the BUCL basket while Babalú pays the price. I do not know how much longer it can continue to pay that price.
BUCL is killing Babalú.
Please note that not one single comment is ever left on any post which Babalú dedicates to BUCL. It is as if it were the vómito negro. No one wants any part of it. They want it to go away and show their disdain for it by ignoring it altogether. In fact, as I've pointed out before, the Babalú commenters are deserting the sinking ship. For a blog that once claimed 2000-3000 daily visits, it is an ominous sign when even its most successful posts amount to no more than 13 comments.
Val & Company have placed all their eggs in the BUCL basket while Babalú pays the price. I do not know how much longer it can continue to pay that price.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
2 For 2
I think it is fair to say that BUCL's Campaign II has proven an even greater failure than its predecessor (if that is even possible). With their silence Sting and The Police have rebuffed them and sided with the oppressors of the Cuban people. No amount of begging on the part of the BUCLers persuaded their British idols that Castro is deserving of their condemnation. Don't they know what these characters are: Marxists by proxy.
Having already failed in their ridiculous attempt to bring the Spaniards to their knees, and unable even to convince a Castro-worshipping Sting to get off his knees, it may be time for Henry to get off his ass and put an end once and for good to this travesty. If he quits now, I promise not to hound him about it to his last day (or mine).
My advice to the BUCLers:
Think.
Reconsider.
Desist.
Having already failed in their ridiculous attempt to bring the Spaniards to their knees, and unable even to convince a Castro-worshipping Sting to get off his knees, it may be time for Henry to get off his ass and put an end once and for good to this travesty. If he quits now, I promise not to hound him about it to his last day (or mine).
My advice to the BUCLers:
Think.
Reconsider.
Desist.
Dissent Comes At Long Last to Babalú
Maybe, just maybe, the truth is finally getting through; and maybe, just maybe, diverging points of view are now allowed on babalu even among its posters; and, maybe, just maybe, I have not plowed the seas:
FROM BABALU: FLASH!!!
On Sting and Silence
Sting and The Police are remaining suspiciously silent in the face of widespread calls to denounce repression in Cuba. Could it be that Sting’s long track record of standing up for human rights is coming to an end? I believe it might. When Henry Gomez approached guitarist Andy Summers with a simple plea to stand up for human rights in Cuba, the acclaimed musician offered nothing more than an offer to share the message with his bandmates. This while seated in what is perhaps the most popular restaurant (Versailles) in a city home to hundreds of thousands of exiles from one of the most repressive nations in the world.
Cuba is perhaps one of the most obvious examples of a black and white issue. Either you’re for the Cuban people or against them. There is no midway point. There is no negotiation with a corrupt regime stocked with career criminals. Summers could have replied: yes, what has been happening on the island over the course of nearly five decades constitutes a massive crime. Rather, he merely saw fit to offer sharing Gomez’s points with Sting & Co. How nice of you to make that offer, Mr. Summers. And Sting? Well, his silence on this issue over the past few weeks speaks volumes. If these men are unable to issue a concrete statement on the Cuba conundrum, if composing a statement requires weeks of thought over such an obvious issue, then I would argue their hearts are at least somewhat with Fidel and not the struggling people of our beloved island.
What’s more, Mr. Summers isn’t the naïve musician many of us – including this author – thought he was. Our own Humberto Fontova chronicled his round of Stalinist bootlicking in a recent NewsMax article:
"We completely lost our composure!" squealed English songstress, Ruth Merry. "As we lined up, an excited Andy Summers of the Police stood next to me with his copy of Castro's 'History Will Absolve Me.' Andy was nervously contemplating asking Castro to sign it - and he finally DID!...Here were all these huge stars, quaking with anticipation!....I lost any composure and degenerated into a heap of nervous giggling for the rest of the evening!"
Well boys . . . what's it gonna be? We await your answer.
Posted at Babalú by CubaWatcher at 02:36 PM
[I HAVE REPRODUCED THIS POST IN TOTO FOR FEAR THAT VAL WOULD SHORTLY DELETE IT FROM BABALU AND TO ASSURE THAT HE WON'T]
Postcript:
Henry has moved his avoirdupois a full 360 degrees. Now the 2nd BUCL Campaign is no longer about Sting and The Police, nor even about the "Invisible Ones" (political prisoners):
The Police is our vehicle to get a message out there. Whether they change their tune (pardon the pun) or not, doesn't really matter. If they are exposed as hypocrites, it doesn't matter. What matters is that for once someone else (other than Castro, inc.) is driving the news about Cuba, even if it's for a minute. That's what this is all about.
Posted by: Henry "Conductor" Gomez at July 11, 2007 06:41 PM
So that is what "this" is all about! Today. Tomorrow, Henry will think of something else that "this" can be about.
http://www.babalublog.com/archives/005614.html
FROM BABALU: FLASH!!!
On Sting and Silence
Sting and The Police are remaining suspiciously silent in the face of widespread calls to denounce repression in Cuba. Could it be that Sting’s long track record of standing up for human rights is coming to an end? I believe it might. When Henry Gomez approached guitarist Andy Summers with a simple plea to stand up for human rights in Cuba, the acclaimed musician offered nothing more than an offer to share the message with his bandmates. This while seated in what is perhaps the most popular restaurant (Versailles) in a city home to hundreds of thousands of exiles from one of the most repressive nations in the world.
Cuba is perhaps one of the most obvious examples of a black and white issue. Either you’re for the Cuban people or against them. There is no midway point. There is no negotiation with a corrupt regime stocked with career criminals. Summers could have replied: yes, what has been happening on the island over the course of nearly five decades constitutes a massive crime. Rather, he merely saw fit to offer sharing Gomez’s points with Sting & Co. How nice of you to make that offer, Mr. Summers. And Sting? Well, his silence on this issue over the past few weeks speaks volumes. If these men are unable to issue a concrete statement on the Cuba conundrum, if composing a statement requires weeks of thought over such an obvious issue, then I would argue their hearts are at least somewhat with Fidel and not the struggling people of our beloved island.
What’s more, Mr. Summers isn’t the naïve musician many of us – including this author – thought he was. Our own Humberto Fontova chronicled his round of Stalinist bootlicking in a recent NewsMax article:
"We completely lost our composure!" squealed English songstress, Ruth Merry. "As we lined up, an excited Andy Summers of the Police stood next to me with his copy of Castro's 'History Will Absolve Me.' Andy was nervously contemplating asking Castro to sign it - and he finally DID!...Here were all these huge stars, quaking with anticipation!....I lost any composure and degenerated into a heap of nervous giggling for the rest of the evening!"
Well boys . . . what's it gonna be? We await your answer.
Posted at Babalú by CubaWatcher at 02:36 PM
[I HAVE REPRODUCED THIS POST IN TOTO FOR FEAR THAT VAL WOULD SHORTLY DELETE IT FROM BABALU AND TO ASSURE THAT HE WON'T]
Postcript:
Henry has moved his avoirdupois a full 360 degrees. Now the 2nd BUCL Campaign is no longer about Sting and The Police, nor even about the "Invisible Ones" (political prisoners):
The Police is our vehicle to get a message out there. Whether they change their tune (pardon the pun) or not, doesn't really matter. If they are exposed as hypocrites, it doesn't matter. What matters is that for once someone else (other than Castro, inc.) is driving the news about Cuba, even if it's for a minute. That's what this is all about.
Posted by: Henry "Conductor" Gomez at July 11, 2007 06:41 PM
So that is what "this" is all about! Today. Tomorrow, Henry will think of something else that "this" can be about.
http://www.babalublog.com/archives/005614.html
A Chimera in the Sky
Of course, it was no surprise to us. We had been informed two days earlier of their plans and it was hardly a secret since it was all that the demonstrators talked about at their vigil in front of Versailles Restaurant, which was not attended by Val, who was busy with the preparations. But I am a reactor not a detonator. Let them have their moment. Perhaps Cuba might also benefit thereby.
The only two questions I have are:
Did The Police react to their streamer (which is certainly a step up from the stickers)?
Did the crowd react?
That is how the stunt should be judged.
And what will the BUCLERs do if The Police ignore their pleas, or, worse, praise the Castro regime?
Will Val & Henry refute their idols of clay? Will their obsequiousness turn into condemnation?
I think, honestly, that it would be harder for Henry to attack Sting than it would be for Sting to attack Castro.
I don't think either is going to happen.
The only two questions I have are:
Did The Police react to their streamer (which is certainly a step up from the stickers)?
Did the crowd react?
That is how the stunt should be judged.
And what will the BUCLERs do if The Police ignore their pleas, or, worse, praise the Castro regime?
Will Val & Henry refute their idols of clay? Will their obsequiousness turn into condemnation?
I think, honestly, that it would be harder for Henry to attack Sting than it would be for Sting to attack Castro.
I don't think either is going to happen.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Tocororo Libre (1974-2007)
I remember with a sweet and sour feeling the day that plane took to the sky and me with tears in my eyes as I was finally realizing that I was breaking away from the oppression that tortured my life for so many years. I said good bye to my beloved island not knowing when I was going to able to walk again under that sunshine that gave me life. I'm still waiting for that day to come by. A big thank you to Uncle Sam for giving me the opportunity to be free.
My first day of freedom was December 31, 1989. Celebre el [Año] Nuevo en tierra libre. — Tocororo
Tocororo Libre, a fellow Cuban blogger known to all who comment here or anywhere in the Cuban-American blogosphere, has died at age 33. When he left Cuba he was just 15 years old, yet, as his words attest, his love of country was already an integral part of who he was and so it would remain for the rest of his all-too-short life.
Character is not something that can be coined; it exists or does not exist. Unlike personality which is subject to change, character is immutable. Tocororo's personality, as reflected in his writings, was generous and expansive, boisterous but not boastful, prototypically Cuban in the best sense. But his character was as integral as his personality was variable. His ideals, which are also our ideals, were newer and brighter because he was. It is in the young that ideals are most pristine. We who from the illness of living have grown cynical and morose could refresh our own spirits in the untramelled enthusiasm of the young which rarely outlasts youth. It is a terrible thing to see the few green leaves on a withered tree die but natural to see the seared leaves fall. Killcastro rightly asked how such a collection of fetidity as still breaths and poisons the atmosphere for everybody in Cuba, should have been spared and one so young and blameless as tocororo had his life cut short just at the very age when that demonic presence first cast his dark shadow on our national life 48 years ago; a shadow yet to be dispelled.
But let us not define his life solely in relation to that cloud; for here he grew and built a life outside it. Tocororo was a naturalist and conservationist, and especially a fish lover (he would have had a field day if anyone had called him an "ichthyologist"). He knew that the Cuban Revolution, besides all else and above all else, has meant a 48-year natural catastrophe for our country, and that it has devastated its ecology even more than its infrastructure. The latter can be repaired and will be; the former will take centuries or millenia to regenerate if it ever does. This good man felt every scar in our island's natural beauty personally and made the preservation of what remained his especial concern. Killcastro and Charlie Bravo have written much and well on this aspect of tocororo's life.
We should like to recall another aspect of it where we have some competence to speak. Tocororo's take on the English language was uniquely his own; or, rather, he made a full conquest of English on his own terms. In that paragraph quoted above his talent is well-displayed. No native speaker would say "I remember with a sweet and sour feeling." Writers by rote would have said "bittersweet" but tocororo had his own recipe and his "sour and sweet" is more evocative than their "bittersweet." Multiply that instance by a thousand and you see that what was lost today cannot be replaced. I have tried all day to access tocororo's blog Spanglish a lo cubano without success. It seems to have disappeared from the cyber-ether. Does anyone know how it can be recovered? We owe him that much at least. I hope also that his real name will be made known; for there is no reason any longer to conceal it.
We extend our condolences to his family and friends; and, in particular, to Killcastro and Charlie Bravo, for whom tocororo was like a younger brother.
Rest in Peace.
Beyond The Stars
Three days I heard them grieve when I lay dead,
(It was so strange to me that they should weep!)
Tall candles burned about me in the dark,
And a great crucifix was on my breast,
And a great silence filled the lonesome room.
I heard one whisper, “Lo! the dawn is breaking,
And he has lost the wonder of the day.”
Another came whom I had loved on earth,
And kissed my brow and brushed my dampened hair.
Softly she spoke: “Oh, that he should not see
The April that his spirit bathed in! Birds
Are singing in the orchard, and the grass
That soon will cover him is growing green.
The daisies whiten on the emerald hills,
And the immortal magic that he loved
Wakens again—and he has fallen asleep.”
Another said: “Last night I saw the moon
Like a tremendous lantern shine in heaven,
And I could only think of him—and sob.
For I remembered evenings wonderful
When he was faint with Life’s sad loveliness,
And watched the silver ribbons wandering far
Along the shore, and out upon the sea.
Oh, I remembered how he loved the world,
The sighing ocean and the flaming stars,
The everlasting glamour God has given—
His tapestries that wrap the earth’s wide room.
I minded me of mornings filled with rain
When he would sit and listen to the sound
As if it were lost music from the spheres.
He loved the crocus and the hawthorn-hedge,
He loved the shining gold of buttercups,
And the low droning of the drowsy bees
That boomed across the meadows. He was glad
At dawn or sundown; glad when Autumn came
With her worn livery and scarlet crown,
And glad when Winter rocked the earth to rest.
Strange that he sleeps today when Life is young,
And the wild banners of the Spring are blowing
With green inscriptions of the old delight.”
I heard them whisper in the quiet room.
I longed to open then my sealèd eyes,
And tell them of the glory that was mine.
There was no darkness where my spirit flew,
There was no night beyond the teeming world.
Their April was like winter where I roamed;
Their flowers were like stones where now I fared.
Earth’s day! it was as if I had not known
What sunlight meant!… Yea, even as they grieved
For all that I had lost in their pale place,
I swung beyond the borders of the sky,
And floated through the clouds, myself the air,
Myself the ether, yet a matchless being
Whom God had snatched from penury and pain
To draw across the barricades of heaven.
I climb beyond the sun, beyond the moon;
In flight on flight I touched the highest star;
I plunged to regions where the Spring is born,
Myself (I asked not how) the April wind,
Myself the elements that are of God.
Up flowery stairways of eternity
I whirled in wonder and untrammeled joy,
An atom, yet a portion of His dream—
His dream that knows no end….
I was the rain,
I was the dawn, I was the purple east,
I was the moonlight on enchanted nights,
(Yet time was lost to me); I was a flower
For one to pluck who loved me; I was bliss,
And rapture, splendid moments of delight;
And I was prayer, and solitude, and hope;
And always, always, always I was love.
I tore asunder flimsy doors of time,
And through the windows of my soul’s new sight
I saw beyond the ultimate bounds of space.
I was all things that I had loved on earth—
The very moonbeam in that quiet room,
The very sunlight one had dreamed I lost,
The soul of the returning April grass,
The spirit of the evening and the dawn,
The perfume in unnumbered hawthorn-blooms.
There was no shadow on my perfect peace,
No knowledge that was hidden from my heart.
I learned what music meant; I read the years;
I found where rainbows hide, where tears begin;
I trod the precincts of things yet unborn.
Yea, while I found all wisdom (being dead),
They grieved for me … I should have grieved for them!
By: Charles Hanson Towne (1877-1949)
http://www.killcastro.com/blog/2007/07/tocororo-libre-has-passed-away.html
My first day of freedom was December 31, 1989. Celebre el [Año] Nuevo en tierra libre. — Tocororo
Tocororo Libre, a fellow Cuban blogger known to all who comment here or anywhere in the Cuban-American blogosphere, has died at age 33. When he left Cuba he was just 15 years old, yet, as his words attest, his love of country was already an integral part of who he was and so it would remain for the rest of his all-too-short life.
Character is not something that can be coined; it exists or does not exist. Unlike personality which is subject to change, character is immutable. Tocororo's personality, as reflected in his writings, was generous and expansive, boisterous but not boastful, prototypically Cuban in the best sense. But his character was as integral as his personality was variable. His ideals, which are also our ideals, were newer and brighter because he was. It is in the young that ideals are most pristine. We who from the illness of living have grown cynical and morose could refresh our own spirits in the untramelled enthusiasm of the young which rarely outlasts youth. It is a terrible thing to see the few green leaves on a withered tree die but natural to see the seared leaves fall. Killcastro rightly asked how such a collection of fetidity as still breaths and poisons the atmosphere for everybody in Cuba, should have been spared and one so young and blameless as tocororo had his life cut short just at the very age when that demonic presence first cast his dark shadow on our national life 48 years ago; a shadow yet to be dispelled.
But let us not define his life solely in relation to that cloud; for here he grew and built a life outside it. Tocororo was a naturalist and conservationist, and especially a fish lover (he would have had a field day if anyone had called him an "ichthyologist"). He knew that the Cuban Revolution, besides all else and above all else, has meant a 48-year natural catastrophe for our country, and that it has devastated its ecology even more than its infrastructure. The latter can be repaired and will be; the former will take centuries or millenia to regenerate if it ever does. This good man felt every scar in our island's natural beauty personally and made the preservation of what remained his especial concern. Killcastro and Charlie Bravo have written much and well on this aspect of tocororo's life.
We should like to recall another aspect of it where we have some competence to speak. Tocororo's take on the English language was uniquely his own; or, rather, he made a full conquest of English on his own terms. In that paragraph quoted above his talent is well-displayed. No native speaker would say "I remember with a sweet and sour feeling." Writers by rote would have said "bittersweet" but tocororo had his own recipe and his "sour and sweet" is more evocative than their "bittersweet." Multiply that instance by a thousand and you see that what was lost today cannot be replaced. I have tried all day to access tocororo's blog Spanglish a lo cubano without success. It seems to have disappeared from the cyber-ether. Does anyone know how it can be recovered? We owe him that much at least. I hope also that his real name will be made known; for there is no reason any longer to conceal it.
We extend our condolences to his family and friends; and, in particular, to Killcastro and Charlie Bravo, for whom tocororo was like a younger brother.
Rest in Peace.
Beyond The Stars
Three days I heard them grieve when I lay dead,
(It was so strange to me that they should weep!)
Tall candles burned about me in the dark,
And a great crucifix was on my breast,
And a great silence filled the lonesome room.
I heard one whisper, “Lo! the dawn is breaking,
And he has lost the wonder of the day.”
Another came whom I had loved on earth,
And kissed my brow and brushed my dampened hair.
Softly she spoke: “Oh, that he should not see
The April that his spirit bathed in! Birds
Are singing in the orchard, and the grass
That soon will cover him is growing green.
The daisies whiten on the emerald hills,
And the immortal magic that he loved
Wakens again—and he has fallen asleep.”
Another said: “Last night I saw the moon
Like a tremendous lantern shine in heaven,
And I could only think of him—and sob.
For I remembered evenings wonderful
When he was faint with Life’s sad loveliness,
And watched the silver ribbons wandering far
Along the shore, and out upon the sea.
Oh, I remembered how he loved the world,
The sighing ocean and the flaming stars,
The everlasting glamour God has given—
His tapestries that wrap the earth’s wide room.
I minded me of mornings filled with rain
When he would sit and listen to the sound
As if it were lost music from the spheres.
He loved the crocus and the hawthorn-hedge,
He loved the shining gold of buttercups,
And the low droning of the drowsy bees
That boomed across the meadows. He was glad
At dawn or sundown; glad when Autumn came
With her worn livery and scarlet crown,
And glad when Winter rocked the earth to rest.
Strange that he sleeps today when Life is young,
And the wild banners of the Spring are blowing
With green inscriptions of the old delight.”
I heard them whisper in the quiet room.
I longed to open then my sealèd eyes,
And tell them of the glory that was mine.
There was no darkness where my spirit flew,
There was no night beyond the teeming world.
Their April was like winter where I roamed;
Their flowers were like stones where now I fared.
Earth’s day! it was as if I had not known
What sunlight meant!… Yea, even as they grieved
For all that I had lost in their pale place,
I swung beyond the borders of the sky,
And floated through the clouds, myself the air,
Myself the ether, yet a matchless being
Whom God had snatched from penury and pain
To draw across the barricades of heaven.
I climb beyond the sun, beyond the moon;
In flight on flight I touched the highest star;
I plunged to regions where the Spring is born,
Myself (I asked not how) the April wind,
Myself the elements that are of God.
Up flowery stairways of eternity
I whirled in wonder and untrammeled joy,
An atom, yet a portion of His dream—
His dream that knows no end….
I was the rain,
I was the dawn, I was the purple east,
I was the moonlight on enchanted nights,
(Yet time was lost to me); I was a flower
For one to pluck who loved me; I was bliss,
And rapture, splendid moments of delight;
And I was prayer, and solitude, and hope;
And always, always, always I was love.
I tore asunder flimsy doors of time,
And through the windows of my soul’s new sight
I saw beyond the ultimate bounds of space.
I was all things that I had loved on earth—
The very moonbeam in that quiet room,
The very sunlight one had dreamed I lost,
The soul of the returning April grass,
The spirit of the evening and the dawn,
The perfume in unnumbered hawthorn-blooms.
There was no shadow on my perfect peace,
No knowledge that was hidden from my heart.
I learned what music meant; I read the years;
I found where rainbows hide, where tears begin;
I trod the precincts of things yet unborn.
Yea, while I found all wisdom (being dead),
They grieved for me … I should have grieved for them!
By: Charles Hanson Towne (1877-1949)
http://www.killcastro.com/blog/2007/07/tocororo-libre-has-passed-away.html
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