Friday, July 29, 2005
Exploding Conch Shell, v. 2.0
My little brother has a noble dream: he wants to take over Cuba. No, seriously. Once Castro kicks it (hopefully, at some time when my brother has acquired an acumen of knowledge regarding politics and real estate development), my little brother will move in and seize control of the island nation in a glorious coup.
Well, guess I have to tell him that he has some major competition.
Take note of the language, by the way: "accelerate the demise" of Castro's rule. It's reminiscient of the multitude of insane plots embarked upon by the CIA to knock off Castro during the '60s. And when I say insane, I mean insane. Itching powder on the lining of his scuba suit, and LSD on the mouthpiece. Special salts in his shoes that would make his famous hair fall out. The exploding conch shell of the title. Once, Ian Fleming joked at a state dinner about exploiting the Cuban love of "money, religion, and sex" by dropping counterfeit money, painting a big cross in the sky, and telling Cubans to shave off their beards to avoid impotence caused by radioactive waste, and the CIA honestly wanted to go through with it. Wacky.
Oh, and Caleb McCarry, the guy in charge of this latest attempt, was also related to the massive clusterfuck that was the booting of Aristide, according to Shakespeare's Sister. Oh, dear.
Well, at least my little brother might be able to afford some land there when we're done with it.
Well, guess I have to tell him that he has some major competition.
Take note of the language, by the way: "accelerate the demise" of Castro's rule. It's reminiscient of the multitude of insane plots embarked upon by the CIA to knock off Castro during the '60s. And when I say insane, I mean insane. Itching powder on the lining of his scuba suit, and LSD on the mouthpiece. Special salts in his shoes that would make his famous hair fall out. The exploding conch shell of the title. Once, Ian Fleming joked at a state dinner about exploiting the Cuban love of "money, religion, and sex" by dropping counterfeit money, painting a big cross in the sky, and telling Cubans to shave off their beards to avoid impotence caused by radioactive waste, and the CIA honestly wanted to go through with it. Wacky.
Oh, and Caleb McCarry, the guy in charge of this latest attempt, was also related to the massive clusterfuck that was the booting of Aristide, according to Shakespeare's Sister. Oh, dear.
Well, at least my little brother might be able to afford some land there when we're done with it.
