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His writings revealed a severely troubled young man. “My nostrils dilate while savoring the acrid odor of gunpowder and blood. Crazy with fury I will stain my rifle red while slaughtering any enemy that falls in my hands! With the deaths of my enemies I prepare my being for the sacred fight and join the triumphant proletariat with a bestial howl!”

The term “hatred” was a constant in his writings: “Hatred as an element of struggle”; “hatred that is intransigent;” “hatred so violent that it propels a human being beyond his natural limitations, making him violent and cold- blooded killing machine.”

His deranged fantasies included a continental reign of Stalinism. To achieve this ideal the troubled youth craved, “millions of atomic victims.”

The troubled young Argentine was aloof and contemptuous towards everyone around him: “I have no home, no woman, no father, no mother, no brothers. My friends are friends only when they think as I do ideologically.”

Fortunately for the troubled young Argentine, while a vagabond in Mexico City, he had the good fortune to meet an exceedingly shrewd judge of the human psyche. This judge, a Cuban exile, properly diagnosed the Argentine’s psychosis and made an “intervention” in the nick of time, channeling the troubled youth’s talents and yearnings toward ends considered constructive by the worldwide intelligentsia: establishing Stalinism.

Shortly the Argentine found himself gainfully employed in Cuba. His raging bloodlust was amply indulged in the extermination of anti-communist Cubans, a species of mammal that enlightened opinion worldwide considers an insufferable pest.

At first the troubled young Argentine took an active role in the mass murder of defenseless Cubans, shattering the skulls of the convulsed victims with a blast from his own pistol. But given the volume of these murders the task proved fatiguing and the Argentine soon appointed Cuban henchmen to better facilitate the serial bloodbath.

Not that he distanced himself from the slaughter. In fact, he took such a keen delight in the murder process that a special window was constructed in his office allowing him to watch and gloat at the orgy of bloodletting in the field below his office.

In this process the Argentine was helping his Cuban mentor establish a personal fiefdom that would prove quite enduring, to put it mildly. Alas, the (live) Argentine’s usefulness to his mentor would prove nowhere near as enduring and soon his “martyrdom” was skillfully arranged.

No sane person would wear a Che T-shirt. No decent person would tolerate one in his surroundings. But Che’s Guevara’s image is considered the most reproduced image of the century, gracing everything from T-shirts to posters, from thong undies to skateboards, from cellphones to infant “onezies.” Hollywood hails him in blockbuster movies and Time magazine celebrates him among the “heroes and icons” of the century, alongside Mother Theresa.

Any serious analyst of Che’s “guerrilla” campaigns cannot escape the conclusion that Ernesto Guevara was actually incapable of applying a compass reading to a map. Yet seemingly sane historians place him alongside Mao Tse Tung of (the 8 thousand mile) “long march” fame.

In scope, range and duration the Che Guevara farce far surpasses any other in modern history. In comparison, The South Sea Bubble was a chump operation. Only the modern era’s master huckster and media manipulator — with the eager aid of his ever-faithful accomplices in the Western media, academia, publishing and filmmaking — could have created a masterful guerrilla warrior and secular saint out of this sadist, coward, and epic idiot.

Fidel Castro’s influence over the Western "intelligentsia” can only be described as magical, and renders any public evaluation of his regime among the smart set completely devoid of logic. To wit:

He jailed and tortured at a rate higher than Stalin and refuses (unlike Apartheid South Africa, Pinochet’s Chile and Somoza’s Nicaragua) to allow Amnesty International or the Red Cross to inspect his prisons. Yet Cuba sat on the U.N.’s Human Rights Committee and upon visiting New York as the U.N.’s keynote speaker in 1995, Newsweek magazine hailed Castro as “The Hottest Ticket in Manhattan!” and Time as “The Toast of Manhattan!” referring to the social swirl that engulfed him and the autograph hounds who mobbed him from among New York’s smart set.

His legal code mandates 2 years in prison for anyone overheard cracking a joke about him. Yet Jack Nicholson and Chevy Chase sing his praises.

He abolished Habeas corpus while his chief hangman (Che Guevara himself) declared that “judicial evidence is an archaic bourgeois detail.” Yet Harvard Law School invited him as their guest of honor, then erupted in cheers and tumultuous ovations after his every third sentence.

He drove out a higher percentage of Jews from Cuba than Czar Nicholas drove from Russia. Yet Shoah Foundation Founder Stephen Spielberg, considered his dinner with Fidel Castro, “the eight most important hours of my life.”

He’s a lily-white European soldier’s son who forcibly overthrew a Cuban government where Blacks served as President of the Senate, Minister of Agriculture, Chief of Army, and Head of State (Fulgencio Batista, the grandson of slaves, and born in a palm-roofed shack). Then jailed the longest suffering black political prisoner of modern history (Eusebio Penalver who suffered longer in Castro’s dungeon’s than Nelson Mandela suffered in South Africa’s). Today the prison population in Stalinist/Apartheid Cuba is 90 percent black while only 9 percent of the ruling Stalinist party is black. He sentenced other blacks (Dr. Elias Biscet, Jorge Antunez) to 20-year sentences essentially for quoting Martin Luther King in a public square. Yet he’s a hero to the Congressional Black Caucus and receives frequent accolades and even passionate bear hugs from Charles Rangel and Jesse Jackson.

He converted a nation with a higher per capita income than half of Europe, the lowest inflation rate in the Western hemisphere, a larger middle class than Switzerland and a huge influx of immigrants into one that repels Haitians. Yet, Colin Powell and the London Times, (owned by Rupert Murdoch) have recognized “the Castro Revolution’s achievements.”

In brief, except among “right-wing crackpots,” Cuba is ritually discussed, not with facts or reasoned observations, but with handy (and bogus) clichs.

Che Guevara’s delight in slaughtering Cubans was made possible only because these Cubans were completely defenseless at the time. Bound and blindfolded was his preference. And in that very manner they were lined up in front of his firing squads. In other settings featuring firearms (held by others) the troubled Argentine quivered with fear.

On Oct. 8 1967, for instance, upon finally encountering armed and determined enemies, Che quickly dropped his fully-loaded weapons. “Don’t shoot!” he whimpered. “I’m Che! I’m worth more to you alive than dead!”

His Bolivian captors viewed the matter differently. In fact they adopted a policy that has since become a favorite among Americans who encounter (so-called) endangered species on their property: “Shoot, shovel, and shut-up.”

Justice has never been better served.

The Best of Humberto Fontova