Category Archives: Communism

Cuban Nuclear Missile Crisis Part II

Nobody expected a flashback to 46 years ago. But here it is from Breitbart.

Russia would cross “a red line for the United States of America” if it were to base nuclear capable bombers in Cuba, a top US air force officer warned on Tuesday.

“If they did I think we should stand strong and indicate that is something that crosses a threshold, crosses a red line for the United States of America,” said General Norton Schwartz, nominated to be the air force’s chief of staff.

He was referring to a Russian news report that said the military is thinking of flying long-range bombers to Cuba on a regular basis.

Everything old is new again.

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Mayday Poem and Open Trackbacks

Open Trackbacks. The stealth communist holiday of Mayday deserves a poem that exposes the rotten, hollow heart of Russian Communism and the mass murder and tyranny that beat at the heart of the Mayday celebration.

Here is a good poem. “The Ballad of Lenin’s Tomb” by Robert W. Service from Bar-Room Ballads.

This is the yarn he told me
As we sat in Casey’s Bar,
That Rooshun mug who scrammed from the jug
In the Land of the Crimson Star;
That Soveet guy with the single eye,
And the face like a flaming scar.

Where Lenin lies the red flag flies, and the rat-grey workers wait
To tread the gloom of Lenin’s Tomb, where the Comrade lies in state.
With lagging pace they scan his face, so weary yet so firm;
For years a score they’ve laboured sore to save him from the worm.
The Kremlin walls are grimly grey, but Lenin’s Tomb is red,
And pilgrims from the Sour Lands say: “He sleeps and is not dead.”
Before their eyes in peace he lies, a symbol and a sign,
And as they pass that dome of glass they see – a God Divine.
So Doctors plug him full of dope, for if he drops to dust,
So will collapse their faith and hope, the whole combine will bust.
But say, Tovarich; hark to me . . . a secret I’ll disclose,
For I did see what none did see; I know what no one knows.

I was a Cheka terrorist – Oh I served the Soviets well,
Till they put me down on the bone-yard list, for the fear that I might tell;
That I might tell the thing I saw, and that only I did see,
They held me in quod with a firing squad to make a corpse of me.
But I got away, and here to-day I’m telling my tale to you;
Though it may sound weird, by Lenin’s beard, so help me God it’s true.
I slouched across that great Red Square, and watched the waiting line.
The mongrel sons of Marx were there, convened to Lenin’s shrine;
Ten thousand men of Muscovy, Mongol and Turkoman,
Black-bonnets of the Aral Sea and Tatars of Kazan.
Kalmuck and Bashkir, Lett and Finn, Georgian, Jew and Lapp,
Kirghiz and Kazakh, crowding in to gaze at Lenin’s map.
Aye, though a score of years had run I saw them pause and pray,
As mourners at the Tomb of one who died but yesterday.
I watched them in a bleary daze of bitterness and pain,
For oh, I missed the cheery blaze of vodka in my brain.
I stared, my eyes were hypnotized by that saturnine host,
When with a start that shook my heart I saw – I saw a ghost.
As in foggèd glass I saw him pass, and peer at me and grin –
A man I knew, a man I slew, Prince Boris Mazarin.

Now do not think because I drink I love the flowing bowl;
But liquor kills remorse and stills the anguish of the soul.
And there’s so much I would forget, stark horrors I have seen,
Faces and forms that haunt me yet, like shadows on a screen.
And of theses sights that mar my nights the ghastliest by far
Is the death of Boris Mazarin, that soldier of the Czar.

A mighty nobleman was he; we took him by surprise;
His mother, son and daughters three we slew before his eyes.
We tortured him, with jibes and threats; then mad for glut of gore,
Upon our reeking bayonets we nailed him to the door.
But he defied us to the last, crying: “O carrion crew!
I’d die with joy could I destroy a hundred dogs like you.”
I thrust my sword into his throat; the blade was gay with blood;
We flung him to his castle moat, and stamped him in its mud.
That mighty Cossack of the Don was dead with all his race….
And now I saw him coming on, dire vengeance in his face.
(Or was it some fantastic dream of my besotted brain?)
He looked at me with eyes a-gleam, the man whom I had slain.
He looked and bade me follow him; I could not help but go;
I joined the throng that passed along, so sorrowful and slow.
I followed with a sense of doom that shadow gaunt and grim;
Into the bowels of the Tomb I followed, followed him.

The light within was weird and dim, and icy cold the air;
My brow was wet with bitter sweat, I stumbled on the stair.
I tried to cry; my throat was dry; I sought to grip his arm;
For well I knew this man I slew was there to do us harm.
Lo! he was walking by my side, his fingers clutched my own,
This man I knew so well had died, his hand was naked bone.
His face was like a skull, his eyes were caverns of decay . . .
And so we came to the crystal frame where lonely Lenin lay.

Without a sound we shuffled round. I sought to make a sign,
But like a vice his hand of ice was biting into mine.
With leaden pace around the place where Lenin lies at rest,
We slouched, I saw his bony claw go fumbling to his breast.
With ghastly grin he groped within, and tore his robe apart,
And from the hollow of his ribs he drew his blackened heart. . . .
Ah no! Oh God! A bomb, a BOMB! And as I shrieked with dread,
With fiendish cry he raised it high, and . . . swung at Lenin’s head.
Oh I was blinded by the flash and deafened by the roar,
And in a mess of bloody mash I wallowed on the floor.
Then Alps of darkness on me fell, and when I saw again
The leprous light ’twas in a cell, and I was racked with pain;
And ringèd around by shapes of gloom, who hoped that I would die;
For of the crowd that crammed the Tomb the sole to live was I.
They told me I had dreamed a dream that must not be revealed,
But by their eyes of evil gleam I knew my doom was sealed.

I need not tell how from my cell in Lubianka gaol,
I broke away, but listen, here’s the point of all my tale. . . .
Outside the “Gay Pay Oo” none knew of that grim scene of gore;
They closed the Tomb, and they they threw it open as before.
And there was Lenin, stiff and still, a symbol and a sign,
And rancid races come to thrill and wonder at his Shrine;
And hold the thought: if Lenin rot the Soviets will decay;
And there he sleeps and calm he keeps his watch and ward for aye.
Yet if you pass that fram of glass, peer closly at his phiz,
So stern and firm it mocks the worm, it looks like wax . . . and is.
They tell you he’s a mummy – don’t you make that bright mistake:
I tell you – he’s a dummy; aye, a fiction and a fake.
This eye beheld the bloody bomb that bashed him on the bean.
I heard the crash, I saw the flash, yet . . . there he lies serene.
And by the roar that rocked the Tomb I ask: how could that be?
But if you doubt that deed of doom, just go yourself and see.
You think I’m mad, or drunk, or both . . . Well, I don’t care a damn:
I tell you this: their Lenin is a waxen, show-case SHAM.

Such was the yarn he handed me,
Down there in Casey’s Bar,
That Rooshun bug with the scrambled mug
From the land of the Commissar.
It may be true, I leave it you
To figger out how far.

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Tibet

China is claiming attacks from inside and outside and is embarrassed beyond belief by the constant interference by protesters against the Olympic torch procession. China is taking a hard line about things, threatening athletes who express opinions the Chinese government doesn’t like with expulsion from the games.

What I’d like to discover is where the radical anti-war groups are in this popular protest against Chinese tyranny in Tibet. This appears to be action by people who are truly concerned with Tibet, as contrasted with the La Raza and Code Pink rallies, which are led by groups like International ANSWER and the Revolutionary Communist Party. Are the usual anti-war groups showing up to protest against China? Or do they only protest against America?

Update
Zombietime and Ginna Allison have excellent photo reports on the fabulous torch relay disappearing act in San Francisco. Even David Copperfield would have had trouble making this protest disappear as well as SF’s thin blue line did the trick.

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Trackposted to Outside the Beltway, Diary of the Mad Pigeon, Rosemary’s Thoughts, Woman Honor Thyself, Adam’s Blog, Maggie’s Notebook, Pirate’s Cove, Celebrity Smack, The Pink Flamingo, Leaning Straight Up, A Newt One, Dumb Ox Daily News, Adeline and Hazel, Right Voices, and The Yankee Sailor, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

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CPUSA supports Clinton or Obama, and Card Check

Joel Wendland writes for the Marxist electronic fishwrapper politicalaffairs.net

With the undiminished role of the labor-led people’s movement, Webb [president of the CPUSA] predicted the outcome could bring enormous change that puts people’s need before warmaking, sleaze and policies that put profits before peoples need. Such an outcome is possible regardless of whether or not Clinton or Obama wins, he stated.

The Democratic campaigns and the possibility for change have eroded disillusionment and apathy. The main dilemma of the left is to not be left behind in this upsurge, he said. If we are not engaged in this struggle to advance the people’s movement, we will be left behind.

This year the Communist Party of the USA (CPUSA) is powered by big labor and their demand for the Orwellian “Employee Free Choice Act,” also called “Card Check,” which claims to increase democracy in the workplace by taking away the secret ballot in unionization efforts. You read that right. It claims to increase democracy in the workplace by taking away the secret ballot! Its name is a bald-faced lie. Brian Faughnan notes in the Weekly Standard Blog that both Obama and Clinton are fanatics about the Card Check bill. They love it. And yet normal Americans are 60-80% opposed to Card Check, according to a poll taken by McLaughlin & Associates.

But this poll shows how unpopular Card Check is with ordinary voters. And while ‘Card Check’ or ‘Employee Free Choice Act’ may sound too abstract to form the basis of an effective attack ad, those phrases obscure the real issue: the right of a worker to vote on unionization without his boss or coworkers knowing how he voted.

In other words, the bill would encourage union organizers to use peer pressure and threats to force employees in non-union shops into signing up for unions. Without a secret ballot, there is no freedom of choice in voting. This bill would create vote fraud, plain and simple.

Vote fraud, another plank in the Democratic Party platform, along with support for Communist Party causes.

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Trackposted to Outside the Beltway, The Virtuous Republic, Rosemary’s Thoughts, Maggie’s Notebook, Adam’s Blog, Right Truth, Shadowscope, Conservative Cat, D equals S, Faultline USA, Nuke Gingrich, third world county, Blue Star Chronicles, The Pink Flamingo, A Newt One, Right Voices, Gone Hollywood, and The Yankee Sailor, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

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Venezuelan Refugees from Chavez copy Cuban Refugees from Castro, flee to South Florida

Hugo Chavez’s Chavismo variant of Stalinism inspires such emotion in those who are subject to it that given the choice they leave all their possessions behind and flee, much like those who lived in Cuba under the emergent Stalinist dictatorship of Fidel Castro. Kirk Semple tells all about it.

Can another Democrat President’s Bay of Pigs fiasco still be avoided?

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Trackposted to Pet’s Garden Blog, Blog @ MoreWhat.com, The Virtuous Republic, Allie is Wired, Right Truth, Shadowscope, The Pink Flamingo, Cao’s Blog, Big Dog’s Weblog, A Newt One, Right Voices, and Pursuing Holiness, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

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Elfin Che and Open Trackbacks a Week Before Merry Christmas

An instant classic from the People’s Cube.

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Cuba Privatizes Some Abandoned State-Owned Farmland

Fidel Castro, 81, has been out of the public eye for the past 16 months after his intestinal surgery. Recently he phoned Elian Gonzalez.

Elian Gonzalez, who as a boy was the focus of an international custody battle, said ailing Cuban President Fidel Castro called him Thursday and told him he is doing well.

“It was a very exciting moment,” said Gonzalez, who turned 14 this month.

Ho hum.

More importantly for the prosperity of Cubans, Marc Frank reports the state is privatizing some farmland.

The weekly economic publication Opciones recently reported that sickle bush and other weeds have become “a plague”, covering one third of Cuba’s 3.6 million hectares (90 million acres) of arable land.

A group of Raul Castro’s aides is drawing up a plan for what to do with the large tracts of vacant state land, with a deadline set for the end of this year, Communist Party sources say.

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