Taken from the saga: The Ciro versus The State Security
It’s been sometime since I wrote because after 30 years of a bloody battle against G2 I’ve now dedicated myself to the peaceful struggle. Now I am only going to do pro-democracy civic projects and I’ll collect some signatures and some votes.
My first project is titled Project Summary and has only one premise (or whatever you’d like to call that thing). To continue, I state it:
Communism is a prick!!!
You may vote in the righthand column of the blog, “Yes” (if you agree) or “Don’t know” (if you haven’t lived under communism). In the viewer below you can see how the vote is going.
PS: We have implemented a plugin so that the "Don’t know" answers cannot exceed 137 votes. So if you see in the viewer that "Don’t know" has reached 137 don’t bother to choose it because your vote won’t be registered and so that you can see I'm good, I’m going to give 137 votes to “Don’t know” before starting the voting.
PPS: For technical reasons I haven't been able to fix the votes at 137, so the survey has turned out to be much more democratic than I wanted.
This is an excerpt to a version of the song, Epitaph for Vladimir Visotski by Karsmarski Jacek (Polish dissident songwriter), which includes Ciro Diaz in his latest album, The Blue Slug, that I listened to compulsively for at least two months, especially on the street with my mp3 inherited from a friend who now has an I-pod. (Download the lyrics here) (Download the recording and album cover here) The song (in summary, which runs about ten minutes) is about a desperate artist going through the circles of hell in search of an answer or death, and at the end of his journey there is only loneliness and the weight of the supreme power above himself. So I found myself at times catching the bus across Havana at 12 noon in August under the perennial sunshine and with the distressing feeling of not going anywhere, or arriving too late, or going for pleasure ... I feel that I have already arrived at the eighth enclosure (this is the finale of the song) where there is nothing, and I feel useless and empty, and I look at people without faith who walk along the street and who have so much fear that they no longer know they're afraid, and who have seen so many Roundtables and so many news broadcasts that they no longer know what belongs to reality or just to the TV screen. They cannot discern that they no longer believe, but cannot disbelieve either, and just move along past me not going anywhere.