A Tale of Two Posts

Cuban Americans are by and large characterized as crazy intransigents. And truth be told, on occasion we have been known to let our passions get in the way of our public relations. But can anyone who cares about freedom or justice read these, which I picked up at Babalu, and not be driven to anger at the stupidity, or callus insensitivity the world over, particularly among the intelligentsia?

First read Carlos Eire's very clear explanation, courtesy of Ziva, of just what travel to Cuba supports. Then bearing in mind that Che Guevara was a mass murderer who helped impose the same Stalinist system Dr. Eire describes, read the article that forms the basis of the previous post by Fontova. Oh, the horror.

Meanderings: Cropsey and The Eternal Footman

Recently re-established contact with another friend of my youth, another of those who knew me when I was impressive. Inevitably I am reminded that I have done nothing of note with all of the advantages I once had. What I have had is some pretty strange encounters. I once, while minding my own quite boring business and quite by chance, stood across from irate murderers so notorious I won't elaborate. Once in a while I wonder what I would have done had I known what carnage they would create and come to the conclusion the answer is nothing. Don't have it in me.

All of these ruminations occurred because I came across an add for a movie, Cropsey. Sounds like an interesting documentary of sorts: crime story, cultural study of Staten Island, Blair Witch revisited. It struck a chord, because a few weeks before the disappearance of the last little girl, the convicted murderer came into my husband's store and hung around shooting the breeze. I don't remember being afraid of him. I think he was one of the locals. But in light of later events, I am struck by the behavior of my daughter, about three at the time, who spent his entire visit
affixed to my right kneecap. Strange, life.