50th Anniversary Dawns

As Cuba geers up to commemorate "50 glorious years of the Cuban socialist revolution" (in the ever-present jargonic phrase of every Radio Reloj transmission), on January 1, some revellers "celebrate" in Santiago de Cuba, in the eastern part of the island.

Look at them.



They're poor, they're miserable, they're wearing clothes you couldn't even find in the throw-away box at the Salvation Army (in fact, that's probably where their Miami relatives got them, since clothing coupons are the only way you can officially get clothing over there).

The paint is peeling. Their buildings are in ruins (safety code? What safety code?). They look glum, despite the unsinkable Cuban spirit which lives on even in this hell hole.

50 years of this ruinous philosophy holding a people prisoner in their own homeland.

Tell me, was this "glorious revolution" worth it?

Only to the deranged.

I challenge anyone who isn't a VIP like Maradona or Garcia Marquez to live like these people do, in this "workers' paradise". They wouldn't last a minute.

The crime committed by Fidel Castro and his confrères has no name. They took a prosperous, beautiful nation with a vibrant, deeply talented people and turned it into a snakepit.

Yes, by all means, let's celebrate.