Belated Birthday

I didn't get an opportunity to wish Fidel a Happy Birthday, mostly because I was hoping he was dead. But, I was visiting Val's blog whic mentions this celebration they had in San Fran. Included in the performance art was this piece of crap poem:


FIDEL CASTRO
by Jack Hirschman

The president of the other America has fallen ill
and it is his birthday. We wish him Happy
Birthday and a speedy recovery.



By the other America, we don't simply mean
his brothers and sister in Venezuela, Bolivia,
Chile, Peru, Brazil, Haiti and the like.



We mean also the 37 million people living destitute
and in misery in these disunited States, of whom
six million kids go to bed hungry every night,



while a murder machine waves the false flag of security
and makes war on the poor of the world.
What is more insecure than the empty belly of a child?



The president of the other America knows that there is
a poverty that is the wealth of the world. Viva the poverty
of Cuba that makes even the comrade on the cross applaud.



Viva the dignity of Cuba, whose island arms stretch
all the way to the equality of love that is Africa.
There is a man who has understood that life is worth



nothing if it is not free, and freedom nothing if it is not
consciousness of necessity---principled, palpable and priceless.
That is Fidel. That is fidelidad. Be well, commandante. Feliz cumpleanos.

You know, it's not enough that most "artists" and creative types are rationally and factually challenged. If they were good at the creative stuff, I'd say they at least served some purpose. The above drek was written by the Poet Laureate of San Fran.