Che Guevara seems to keep coming up in my life. Or his likeness keeps popping out at me. He's all over T-shirts. And his sticker is on cars. It's not his sticker. But you know what I mean. It's that picture, in which he's sporting the trademark beret, and looking slightly off to one side. And he's on fire. It's the one. It's the Rage Against The Machine album artwork picture. I've seen a reproduction of the contact sheet, from the film roll on which that image was originaly captured. There are a lot of good shots. Some are not as good. But it was a hell of a roll. And then there's that one - circle it in grease pencil - the photograph that will speak across time. In that picture, Che looks unstoppable. His eyeline is above the lens. He's ready to lead. I think, if such spirit can exist in one man, then there must be others of such mettle who will follow.

It's Motorcycle Diaries. The movie about Che's awakening of consciousness, and politics and revolution. That must be why I'm seeing him everywhere. Mostly on cars. Red cars. I don't know what the link is, unless it's the obvious one. Red car. Red devil. Red dress. Red scare. Noble redman.

Is Che the most recognizable Latino. Or is it Eva Peron. Or is it Pancho Villa. Gabriel Garcia Marquez once wrote that when Americans think of a South American, they picture a man on a horse, with a hat and a pistol. Or was it a guitar and a pistol. I keep thinking of this Andy Warhol painting, of Chairman Mao Zedong, in which the image is all pixles. it's rasterized. It says so much about pop. About the states. So smart.

At the cafe tropical, where I often go to get an egg sandwich, there are no less than 10 framed prints, photos, artworks of Che. It's a really hip place. In a nice way. But I was struck by the number of images of Che. There was obviously a consensus there. And it occurred to me that Che was the greatest man Latin America ever saw. At least in my generation. He's definitely the most recognizable. He'll be the greatest man anyone remembers. Cause he went out young; laid himself down. he got fucking killed in action. He was brave. And he wasn't a politician. he couldn't function in the court.

Un hombre de hechos. No habladas.

Just like Zapata. Just like Zapata.

For myself, I don't buy into the Che myth. I think he was a cool guy, and he found his life's calling in armed revolution. Lfe gave him a set of circumstances which perfectly suited his character. His timing was spectacular. It's the part about his lionization which I find unreal. Unfounded. Flakey. Emotional. Man as God. Demi-god. Che was better than the average person. What does better mean? If he fucked your girlfriend then he was just another damn dawg.

An interesting conflict arose on the set of a television show I worked on in Mexico. There were three distinct groups that made up the crew. All the camera and lighting keys were from L.A. And then there were the network executives (univision) from Miami. Of the Miami five, four were Cuban-American. The fifth was Dominican. But the largest contingent was from Mexico City. Art department, transpo, all the grips and juicers, wardrobe, makeup - all from Mexico.

One day the art director Gustavo came to work wearing a Che Guevara T-shirt. At the time the incident happened I was not aware of it, but one of the Univision executives told him that she was offended by the shirt. Something like that. She said that she didn't want it "on her set." So I only found out about this whole thing later. Later, when we were all getting drunk in Gustavo's hotel room. And those guys from mexico were PISSED. They thought this executive was the lowest form of life. And she was fucking out of line, stirring that shit up down in Mexico. And she was a Cuban-American to boot.

So I went out on a limb, and said to everyone that I thought it wasn't a very good idea to wear a politcial statement on a filmset. Just like that. At the time i could not articultate why I believed this to be so. People were quick to point out the flaws in it. The whole censorship of employment and manners, and getting over. Getting paid. It turns everyone into an automaton, or so it goes. It ends up being impolite to talk about politics. But I held my ground. Because politics don't help make the day shorter. And that's all anybody really wants. Is to not go 15 hours. That transcends politics.

It's interesting that Maria, the cuban-american called Gus out like that. In L.A. you'd just be fired. And you'd never know what the offense was. They just don't call you back. And they're as polite as you could want. Time goes by, and you scratch your head and go - I wonder why I never heard back from those guys.