Talent agent’s secretary tells him there are three acts waiting to see him.
“I hope it isn’t another bunch of goddamned aristocrats!” he says.
The first act comes in and a couple of the men immediately beat up all the women and children, and begin to shit and piss all over them.
“And what do you call your act?” asks the talent agent.
“Haiti.”
Then the second act breaks into the office, beats up everybody in the first act, locks them in a closet, and leaves. Just before they disappear, the talent agent asks them what they call themselves.
“The United States.”
Third act comes in, unlocks the closet, cleans up the first act, hands out free medicine, and sends all the children to school.
The agent is impressed. “What’s the name of your act?” he says.
“Cuba.”
Qué bolá, mamacita!
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(Did I forget to mention the earthquake in Haiti? And the rain? And the waiting? And the rapes?)
house closing a few years ago. The lawyer for the Seller was Cuban and said that Spain had been developing the beaches in Cuba and generally pumping for more and more development. He said to the table in general: The opportunities are limitless. We’re all waiting for Castro to die.
I thought to myself – I hope Cuba doesn’t allow itself to become a plaything for the worst kind of capitalism again. But as a citizen of the US, who am I to cast judgment – we’ve allowed ourselves to become the feeding farm for capitalists of the worst sort. (I am trying not to use the term “American” – since we are one of many Americas – in this hemisphere)
That woman on CNN whose family is from Cuba often talks about how the upper classes were chased from Cuba and the horror of it all. She never mentions the excesses of Batista, et al. Funny how that never comes into her conversation. Castros don’t just descend from the heavens for the fun of it –