Since The Corner’s been around, the good writing at National Review has been limper than the Levitrarian commercials during Rush Limbaugh’s radio show claim to cure.   I feel I must point this particular Goldblatt piece out though as he straps the yet again cinematically canonized Fascist Greasemonkey of the Left, one Che Guevara (lacrimosa courtesy Steven Sontag), to the back of his motorcycle and after dragging it around Latin America for a few miles, writes a diary about it in human blood.  That’s hardcore.

Come for the motorcycle riding cockroaches,  stay for the entomological death match for the ages:

The shortest film about Che’s revolutionary life has already been made. In it, a couple of scruffy, paramilitary-looking, motorcycle-riding cartoon cockroaches decide to “take over” a kitchen, running amok until a giant muscle-bound can of Raid appears and “kills them dead.”

Guevara, in reality, belongs to that species of human vermin who attach themselves to a charismatic villain — in Che’s case, Fidel Castro; in Heinrich Himmler’s case, Adolf Hitler; in Khalid Sheikh Mohammed’s case, Osama bin Laden — and enact their murderous agendas until the countervailing forces of history end their pathetic existences. Granted, Che is more photogenic than either the thin-lipped Poindexter Himmler or the hairy-backed Super Mario Brother Sheikh. It’s hard to imagine either of them ever moving a gross of tee shirts the way Che does. But the fact that Che continues to sell is a testament to the historical ignorance of every consumer of his visage.

It’s nice to see Mark Steyn’s presence finally giving the kids something to shoot for.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 19th, 2008 at 7:55 pm and is filed under Commies. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.