Fidel Castro has put aside the too-old-to-care tracksuits and unearthed his old olive-green military uniforms. He has returned to his weathered rut in front of the Cuban parliament, back on television, ranting incessantly again.
As Elton John would say: The bitch is back.
Just weeks after either Castro or a really good animatronic robot was on live television declaring the United States and Israel are hurtling toward nuclear war, this Saturday he was back again, directly warning Barack Obama of an impending A-bomb holocaust, calling Russia "the Soviets," and declaring that the Earth-forming big bang happened 18,000 years ago.
"It felt like the '80s again," said Right Said Fred's disoriented frontman, who in his confusion filmed a music video while wearing a mesh shirt.
But just how vibrant Castro was depends on whom you ask. From the Miami Herald:
Assembly members burst into applause when he walked in, said he looked "as big as ever" and called him comandante en jefe instead of his more recent and plain title of compañero. One sent him "kisses, comandante."
From the Financial Times:
His speech lasted 11 minutes, not hours, and Mr Castro walked slowly, bent over and with the help of aides. After an hour of back and forth with deputies he tired and the special session was ended.
Riptide, the global leader in Castro Death Determination technology, beckoned the high-priced scientists we keep on retainer to study the parliament video, do some testing on pigs -- yeah, we don't know why either -- and answer conclusively: How dead is the zombie dictator today?
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How dead is he? 32 percent.
How dead is that? According to our analogy sources at E! Online, Castro's life is currently more dead than Joaquin Phoenix's career but, disturbingly, not as dead as Mel Gibson's. To put it in layman's terms, Castro is less dead than your buried great-aunt Gladys but remains more dead than your nephew Raven, who, despite the pale skin and lifeless eyes, is just goth and it's just a stage.
How fearful should the American oligarchy be? We don't know about all of that nuclear apocalypse stuff, but we are certainly headed toward a Castro Rantocalypse® of '80s-era proportions. Castro is peeling open a dusty can of government-issued Won't Shut Up and will be pouring it over the stale white rice of Cuba's diplomatic relations until his embalming fluid finally kicks in.