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In real Cuba, bread is scarce, the electricity goes out, salaries are insufficient, and public health is a game of Russian roulette. But in the Cuba of Miguel Díaz-Canel, the infamous Fidel Castro is in “full revival” and even turns 99 years old as if he were an active mummy on social media and in pyramid schemes of ideological scams.
From the Palace, the leader of the so-called “continuity” decided to gift the country a tired piece of political lyricism, in which he placed the chief dictator “at the forefront, as in the Sierra or at Girón,” even though physically the Orwellian little Napoleon has been reduced to ashes inside his cabin for almost a decade.
According to Díaz-Canel, Fidel "is not only present. He is a constant. A guide and a challenge. An example and a wakefulness." A portrait that, more than that of a tyrant, resembles an instruction manual for preserving the holy shroud of a demon whose image fades upon contact with the holy water of history.
In its post, the "handpicked" celebrated "the beginning of a symbolic year for Cuba" and spoke of "the centenary or eternity" of a despot who had the courtesy to request that no statues or monuments be erected, fully aware that his mark would remain through decades of fanaticism, oppression, and indoctrination.
Díaz-Canel’s words brushed against the supernatural: “I write in the present because that’s how I feel.” And so, amidst paragraphs meant to enchant crazy cows with the Voisin grazing method, the deceased strolled through the pandemic, the supposed victories over the “blockade,” and even the “infinite reserves of dignity” of the people—a pathetic resource to cover up the endless shortage of food and medicine.
For the puppets of the Castros, the key question in every crisis is: “What would Fidel do?”. Here’s a hint, big guy: he would cut off the heads of inept clowns like you and blame them for not understanding his delusions, in addition to waving around the cards of “the blockade” and “the external enemy” that you learned so well at Ñico López, and that works so poorly in these digital times.
Oh, yes! The secret lies "in the essential unity of the revolutionary forces around the Marti ideal," except that through propaganda and indoctrination, the totalitarian regime has distorted and sullied the history of Cuba and its most enlightened minds.
To conclude, the scarecrow from Placetas winked at the fraud from Rosario, and from his ass came a stream of slogans: “Until victory, always” alongside “¡Venceremos!” that caps off that disjointed slogan of “Homeland or Death.” Yes, yes, they triumphed, but they buried the homeland and reveled in death.
Meanwhile, in the unairconditioned Cuba, families continue to wonder how to make ends meet, how to preserve food without electricity, and how to obtain medicines without having to rely on miracles. But let that sea of tears not tarnish the image of a despot who, in the official narrative, “remains alive and present as only the eternal does.”
In "full survival," as Díaz-Canel puts it, the "legacy of Fidel" continues to be the ideology of a regime that, in darkness, brings forth abomination after abomination. Thus, amidst blackouts and distorted teeth, the celebration of the 99 years of the national antichrist confirms that, in the Cuba of death, necrophilia begets increasingly grotesque demons every day.
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