El Caudillo | Monterías
Folk songs, jingles, political and patriotic phrases,
birds of the jungle,
axes and machetes—
about twelve sporting rifles.
Thugs and strike breakers. The careening revolutionary thirst of the Red Indian.
The Professor: “Let’s win the revolution first and destroy our enemies. Then will be the time to discuss what’s to be done. Much talk before hand is wasted time and energy which we have greater need of for our more immediate tasks.”
What did systems, new or old, matter to the rebels?
…
Tierra sin capataces y sin amos—
You are now the masters of this finca—
To have the free and unrestricted disposal of such a large number of ragged, verminous, cowed and totally defenceless prisoners would have rejoiced the heart of the sexually degenerate, spiritually defiled, uniformed invertebrates such as Central Europe produces so cheaply and in such great quantities. Dictators who feels safe and happy only when surrounded solely by slaves are content—for entirely understandable reasons—to rely for acclaim and support upon abject minions. With free men capable of feeling even a glimmer of dignity, they wouldn’t remain sitting on their thrones a week. It was not so in olden days, but in modern times protection comes from the meanest and most miserable henchmen and guardroom parasites, those human dregs, immature and snot-nosed, who, because they have no individuality, no spark of personality, can feel themselves alive only because they are permitted to don a uniform cap. These uniform caps transform a human cipher into a semi-being, but as soon as this semi-being is without his uniform cap, he immediately reveals himself for what he really is: an idiotically distorted, crookedly conceived cipher.
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Hymn. Heralded no saviour.
It was a hymn of praise
announcing the arrival of a new mankind.
In praise of heroes.
Such as only a dictatorship, an autocracy
could have produced.
The hymn of the autocracy is auto-destructive.
…
That’s why I’m now general of the muchachos, who aren’t cowardly wretches such as let themselves be hit in the face without defending themselves. What I think of your chief, you know now. And if your commander isn’t here within four days to have himself slaughtered by us lousy, filthy Indian swine, then he won’t find me here anymore. For I shall march in a wide detour around Balun Canan and make for Shimojol. That’s a nice, rich little town too, where we’ll have plenty of fun. Then on to Huninquibal, and after that I’ll take Yalanchen, then Tsobtajal, then Acayan, then Nihich, and finally Socton. And after that the attack on Tullum, where we’ll visit the governor, provided he hasn’t departed to attend a wedding. Perhaps we may change our plans. But I’m only telling you all this so that you know that I’ve no need to go to La Peña Alta, where the trap’s been laid. That’s all you have to tell your chief. And if you forget a word, we’ll get you again and the other half of your ears will come off.
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Intelligent men are unable to hold appointments for six months…
One doesn’t speak of victory at a shoot, only of the size of the bag.