British architect Stephen Purvis moved with his wife and four kids to Cuba, apparently looking for moonbattery. He found it — along with a 16-month dose of wisdom when he was thrown in prison, apparently because a coworker denounced him:
My universe has shrunk to the dimensions of a king-size mattress – not much more than 6ft square.
This is a standard cell in Villa Marista, the state security interrogation centre. It’s a dungeon I will have to share with three other people for months, even years. Four people in a tiny concrete box in a country where the summer temperature is 40 degrees [104°F] and the humidity 80 per cent.
The washing and toilet facilities are a 3ft-square sunken trough by the cell door. These dungeons were built to KGB technical specifications. We are reduced to animals in a zoo for enemies of the state. …
In Villa Marista, there is on average one proper suicide attempt a month. Two out of three inmates go mad.
But Purvis probably came out saner than he went in. At least he knew enough afterward to get the hell out of Cuba.
That’s the world entertainment industry moonbats think it would be trendy to impose on Americans.
Hat tip: Babalú Blog.