Humorist Claudio Nazoa wrote this Letter from the Devil to Chavez in today’s El Nacional. Since the paper is by subscription only and in Spanish and I found it so funny (if not tragic), that I took the trouble of translating it despite its length. In this blog you can also find an extremely funny letter to an Argentinean friend by Nazoa trying to explain what is going on in Venezuela.
Letter from the devil to Chavez by Claudio Nazoa
My Dear brother! The emotions I feel! Not even I could have done a better job. The other day I was talking to Fidel and in a very amusing way he told me about all your shit. Boy, I laughed my heart off!. By the way, in that unexpected meeting, I congratulated the old man for the successful shooting of the young Cubans that were trying to escape that Hell. Imagine that! Trying to escape the warm coals of Hell which are so cool…I will never understand human beings. By the way, did you notice what a great job he did with the sentence to the reporters and intellectuals that irreverently said that Hell should be softened? What blasphemy! What sacrilege! It is very important that artists and intellectuals don’t go around saying that the revolution is no good…It is one thing for people to feel it is not good and another for them to realize it isn’t.
By the way my dear brother, I am truly sorry about what happened to our buddy Hussein, the worst part is that I made a very bad deal with him, imagine that I was so dumb as to buy his soul at a time in which he was executing his worst atrocities, as they say, it was his best moment. What a huge rip off he was for me! I thought the guy was going to immolate himself, that he was going to fight until the end, that if they grabbed him it would be in the middle of a shoot out or that as a last resort, he would commit suicide like the German guy, because to do that you have to be courageous too, I even thought that he would kill more than one gringo soldier, but no way. They found him there, nervous, hiding in a rat hole with no dignity. The truth is that it shamed me the way he opened his big mouth to that American soldier.
I am going to tell you something but don’t get too full of yourself: down here we all agree that your revolution is truly pretty and we have discussed it in various opportunities with those that are part of the bad guys payroll and which have been living with me for years. That is why I laugh when I read some French reporters, or when I hear the mothers of the Plaza de Mayo or certain intellectuals, well travelled and well fed, that with money, luxury and passport selflessly defend the Cuban revolution and that inexplicable thing that you are doing in Venezuela. The point is that all revolutions are pretty from afar, the bad thing is when you have to forcefully live in one.
That is why my dear brother, I congratulate you.
You have most of the people in Venezuela selling Cocosette (a candy) and doing pirouettes in traffic lights and highways. I don’t know how you did it, you shameless you, but you have no idea how much I enjoy , how much ill-felt pleasure I experience when I see hundreds of little kids sleeping in the streets under cardboard and over newspapers, pressed together just to stop the cold. The other day, at night, I walked nearby what you call “My palace”. Yeah, the one that is in Miraflores. It gave me great pleasure to see so many people sleeping on the ground in front of the gates to your office. They seem like souls in pain. Boy, do those people really believe you love them? And what do you do in exchange? You have them there, sleeping on the ground for a few days so that later you don’t even give them a handout. Brother, not even myself! You are great! That badness is so yours, so Creole, so Bolivarian…
Another thing I love is the godless way in which you treat the city of Caracas. What you are doing in Sabana Grande is really coming out cool. And downtown… that is pure genius. What I feel is envy, me, living here in Hell, and you, enjoying yourself with all that good you have managed to build. Sometimes the pupil does better than the teacher, and that seems to be your case, my dear boy.
And what about that airplane! That was wonderful, my compadre! I don’t know if I have told you, but I get excited visiting those hospitals where people die of neglect and when I visit those schools that have been destroyed. We don’t have to go too far, my friend: Vargas State. You left that shit in ruins! And it was very good for you to reject the aid of the gringos, if not, maybe the whole area would have recovered by now, but the best part is that while the country is sinking in hate and all types of misery, you travel proudly in that shameless airplane. I repeat: What I truly feel is envy for your creativity.
But with what really you topped yourself was with that shit of decapitating the mother of that thin guy that has been around for two thousand years, who goes around pitifully, nailed to a cross and has me bored with his queerness about love, forgiveness and tolerance between human beings.
In the end my big brother you are really doing well
Myself, here I am, waiting for you. I am going to give you a cauldron for yourself here! You are going to have a ball! Imagine that Nero, Herod, Caligula, Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, Franco, Mao Tse Tung and his wife, Pap Doc, Nicolae Ceasescu and his wife, Chapita (Trujillo) Juan Vicente Gomez, Perez Jimenez, Somoza, Mussolini, Boves and Idi Amin Dada, among others that believed they were the saviours of their people are boiling with envy because of the preparations for the huge party that I am organizing.
By the way, that day I would like to invite those that laugh and agree with their heads cowardly with everything that occurs to you…I prefer not bring them here, because I like bad people, not ass kissers who by the way, when you are no longer there, the punishment they will have for all of eternity will be to listen and watch a perpetual program with your speeches and songs, hour after hour for the rest of their days.
I am filled with emotions as I write to you. I warn you that you should be careful with the surprises that your noble people have for you this year, they are going around rising against everything and riding a white horse that was give to them by some guy called Bolivar, who by the way is really pissed at you. Remember, if by any chance in the next few months you have to hide in a cave; don’t start crying or calling priests. Be dignified. Stay calm that I will look for you in any nook and cranny.
And now, as farewell, say hello for me to Jose Vicente, but shit, tell him he really went overboard this time.