One regular reader recommends ignoring the distracting little demons in the comments section, who come from the UCI and other official websites where the brown-shirts of this regime are trained to boycott the debate that has been started up by the bloggers from Cuba. In my opinion, that would be the wisest stance: continue as if such madmen didn’t exist, because it wastes our time when we respond to their provocations, and they distort the true meaning of what’s being discussed. For example, I haven’t said anything in this space that glorifies Posada Carriles or praises the prison that the Guantánamo Naval base has become. Neither the author nor the commenters who have had the generous good will to take part in the debate have expressed hatred towards Muslims. Those who have posted here have simply written, above all else, about that which affects Cuba and Cubans, that which we live and suffer with daily, that which we want to improve, that which we hope for; and so it’s not worth the trouble to attend to insults that never amount to anything more than a pathetic demonstration of impotence: the Internet is a sort of infernal invention, that escapes official controls.
Someone wisely pointed out that that the writings of two of the most rabid brown-shirts on this site constitute proof of the educational crisis en Cuba: insults. dirty words, offenses to women, ignorance of history, attachment to the servile indoctrination. Can’t they recall the lines of the poem ‘Yoke and Star’ from the Apostle*, that reads …But the man who imitates the ox without shame/ will turn into an ox, and as a subdued brute/ begin the universal ascension once more/? I can’t help feeling at least a little thankful for how much they read me, but I am also comforted by the knowledge that they are a small portion of the youth of Cuba. I’ve really enjoyed it when, in open, public spaces, in concerts by anti-establishment musicians—those furthest from the temporary limits on the generation to which they belong—hundreds of youths, carried by an irrepressible enthusiasm and by an enormous anxiety for their future, have sung together “Freedom!, freedom!, freedom!” And it’s known that one doesn’t ask for what one has. The sensation of this desire shared and multiplied in every voice and in every young face is one of the most beautiful experiences possible in a country gripped by one of the longest dictatorships in history.
It’s clear that each person’s desires are in direct correspondence with their spirit. Here we have a couple of little pigeons (doves behind bars today, tomorrow who knows) irresponsibly preparing to fan the flames of hatred, while hundreds and thousands of others invoke the magic word: Freedom. So let us be free, at least in our virtual space, and also generous: let the little monsters make their mischief, we’ll act like we don’t see them. In the end, we voluntarily participate in this dialogue while they are obligated to do it… Otherwise they wouldn’t win the right to go to Campismo Popular* next vacation.
“The Apostle” (of the Cuban Republic) refers to the poet José Martí.
Campismo Popular is a state-sponsored resort system in Cuba.