The death of Fidel Castro conjures up the memories of nearly a lifetime for nearly everyone. And for dissident leftists everywhere, the brutality that comes with dictatorship – no matter how congenial the ideology behind it. But when I see the jubilation of all those pale-faced denizens of Little Cuba, I have to credit Fidel for all the revolution brought to the poorest of the poor on the island nation. Part of the exercise in reminiscence has brought me back to Muhammad Ali and his courageous resistance against the "good old American values" of war and racism. We all knew his quip regarding the Vietcong and name-calling to justify his draft resistance, I'd never heard this poem he read in 1971 on RTÉ.
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Yes, indeed!
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