Hey Juan Carlos. Chavez finally shut up. Forever, though.

I understand this guy was humongous then… either that or We've all been trolled

Goodnight Sweet Prince.

Si, si lo hablo. Eso quiere decir que soy más culto que vos. Así, sin ningún motivo, insultan los chavistas. No creo que te cueste mucho buscar un traductor para tu pobre cerebro: http://translate.google.com/

^butthurt tard rage detected, "English Mother Fucker Do you Speak It" reference from Pulp Fiction not assimilated

I can't believe Chavez has a R34 picture with Rafael Correa.
If it ceases to exist, there is porn of it.

His anti-American stance isn't what people should condemn him for. They should condemn his horrible human rights record while claiming to be standing up for the poor.

http://www.amnesty.org/en/region/venezuela/report-2012

Tu es une boîte à outils.

well, socialism is always like that, i don't want to speak on behalf of his name or something but i believe he was more concerned about doing something for his country than starting a conflict with other nations on the name of his own government, i think someone living there would have a better opinion than me but i still think he was more of a loud mouth than a treat for someone, i just hope people from Venezuela don't idolize him at the point of extremism like China do, that won't have any good for them.

If Bolivar was the Washington of Latin America, then Chavez ought to be the Roosevelt of Venezuela.

No, he's on vacation with Jack Layton. Ed Koch, George McGovern, and Daniel Inouye.

RIP Eric Chavez

Eric Chavez Hits For Cycle, Condemns America

September 24, 2006
Nukefreezone.net

Oakland Athletics third baseman Eric Chavez provided the fireworks that the Oakland offense needed last night, batting 4-5 and driving in 4 runs in the A’s 9-3 victory over the New York Yankees. Chavez then provided more fireworks after the game, speaking out in a blunt and energetic condemnation of United States foreign policy in the 21st century.

Chavez started his day with a 2nd-inning double off the Yankees’ Jaret Wright, driving in Milton Bradley and Frank Thomas to bring the A’s up 2-0. He then led off the fourth with a triple down the right field line, starting a 3-run inning that saw Wright leave the game early for reliever Jeff Karstens. Chavez hit a solo homer off Karstens in the fifth, then singled off Octavio Dotel in the ninth to bring in another run and complete the cycle.

After the game, Chavez hopped in a limo and was driven down Manhattan from Yankee Stadium to the United Nations building where, in his capacity as the Vice President of the oil-rich South American country of Orchata, Chavez launched into a blistering tirade against what he sees as American warmongering and imperialism.

“The vicious American mongrels and their violent, oppressive manipulation of weaker states must end!” Chavez declared to thunderous applause from the UN General Assembly. “The evil George W. Bush and Jaret Wright thought they could defeat me, but I have proven victorious. History has proven that fascist American cruelty and viciousness knows no bounds. I could have gone 5 for 5, but some jerk in a flag T-shirt shined a laser pointer in my eyes.”

Asked for comment, a State Department spokesman said, “I have no idea where he’s coming from with this nonsense. We only tried to kill him four times, launched twelve coups, and invaded his country twice. Obviously he’s nuts, but boy can he hit a baseball.”

At the end of his speech, Chavez held up a copy of the Merriam-Webster Thesaurus and declared, “This is the book that I have used to come up with new ways to insult America. America is … wretched, deficient, iniquitous, invidious, odious, nefarious, froward, scurrilious … ”

The Yankees host the A’s again at 6:15 tonight, as Cory Lidle faces off against Esteban Loaiza.

Let me tell you my own personal Hugo Chavez story. I was driving around Caracas when one of my rear tires blew out, jerking my car into a sudden 90-degree turn. I managed to regain enough control to steer it into a small side street. When I came out the other side, I found myself in the courtyard of an old, abandoned mansion. Faded red Soviet banners and hammer-and-sickle flags hung from every available surface, most in Spanish, some in the original Russian. It looked the kind of thing those crazy Cold Warriors would have put together in that crazy 20th century.

The garage was open, so I decided to pull in and leave my car there until I could get it fixed. The place was not entirely empty. My car's new neighbour was a strange Eastern Bloc automobile that looked like it hadn't been driven in twenty years.

My curiousity leading me, I wandered the grounds of the mansion, taking in a view of the place. I soon learned it was not as abandoned as I thought.

"You there!" A man's voice called out to me. I looked up and saw him standing at a second-floor window. "I've been waiting for you! You're late. Come on in. The front door's open."

I had no plans to go anywhere, so I accepted the invitation. It would be a good opportunity to explain my intrusion as well.

I didn't get a chance to explain much since the man kept talking at me once I got inside. "I've decided that the new flag should be red. Red is a glorious colour, don't you think? And we should have symbols on it to represent the revolution of Simon Bolivar, the struggle of the proletariat worker, the uniqueness of Venezuela, the history of our people, the contributions of our farmers, the soldiers, oh, and a number of stars. A proper flag needs stars--"

I interrupted him. "Excuse me, but I'm not a graphic designer." Anyone could look at my web page and tell that.

"You're not?" he asked, as if shocked that his first impressions about me could possibly be wrong.

"No, I'm a blogger. I write about laws and politics and things like that. My car had a flat tire and I stopped here to see if I could get it fixed--"

"Get out!" he screamed.

I stepped back, but I took another look at my host. He had a familiar rectangular face with a slight jowl on his cheeks, piercing brown eyes, and a beret over shortly cropped hair, but I had trouble matching a name to him. Then it came to me.

"Wait, I know you. You're Hugo Chavez! You used to be a big player on the world stage!"

His manner lightened as he seemed both slightly offended and slightly amused. "I am big. It's the world stage that got small."

"Well, I guess I should be going." I started to excuse myself, but then Hugo interrupted me.

"Wait. Did you say you wrote law? Wait here." He walked to a side room and soon returned with several large bundles of paper tied together with string. He smiled as he dumped them onto a table and introduced them to me. "This is my grand plan for the future of Venezuela. I have spent many years writing it and I need a legal scribe to turn it into a law."

Judging by the size of the pile, this looked like a secure job opportunity. I decided I might as well milk it. "Just so you know, my services are expensive. I am usually paid $500 an hour for work like this."

"Money is no problem," Hugo said. "Venezuela is a rich country. I have oil wells in Maracaibo, always pumping, pumping."

We came to a deal. I could even save on hotel fees by staying at the mansion. And did I mention how the inside of the mansion looked? On all the walls and on every table there were photographs of Hugo Chavez, more Hugo Chavez, and more Hugo Chavez.

However, Hugo did not leave me much leeway in editing his artistic vision down to something comprehensible. If I was caught tossing aside some unnecessary part of the plan, Hugo would question me. "What did you just throw out?"

I would explain myself. "Oh, that was the enabling act that allows the President to issue orders with the effect of law. It would be better for a representative democracy to have laws go through the Parliament first."

And Hugo would disagree. "The people don't want Parliament! They want me! Me! Hugo Chavez! Put it back! Put it back!"

Eventually the stress of the position was too much for me at any salary, so I told Hugo I was leaving.

He took it poorly. I saw him shaking and reaching for the pistol at his hip, and muttering. "Nobody leaves a socialist utopia. That is what makes it a socialist utopia!"

Well, I didn't just leave. I ran like hell and I didn't stop running until I was back in California. So that's my story. I wrote it myself. Any resemblance to an old movie is purely intentional.

Hugo Chavez: worth 1-2 billion depending on the source. Socialist Hero.

Mitt Romney: worth 250 million. Out of touch elitist.

Roosevelt didn't breach human rights half as much. Socialist =/= good leader, Katie.

I'm saying that based on how Teddy Roosevelt stood up to the big financial interests and worked for the poor. So did Chavez. I was making the comparison based on that.

I found this to be a really interesting retrospective on Chávez's life, written by Tariq Ali. Well worth a read.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/mar/06/hugo-chavez-and-me-tariq-ali

So, let me get this straight, he was seen by most of the world as evil, as a "dictator" (well, he behaved like one), following a "the end justifies the means" way, being hated or even feared, and once he dies, people see the "goodness" in his actions, and even his enemies glorify him…

Well, I liked that he supported the poor for years.

>Stood up to big financial interests and the poor
>Conquered nations in the name of Standard Fruit

Well, at least they're similarly hypocritical.

Have a nice trip, St**pid F**ck!