Sunday, August 1

The audios of Mr. Pérez, don Florentino


On the point of paying attention to Manuel Vicent, that should, retired, sitting in the shade of a banana with friends, talking about everything except politics and diseases, but no, Spanish politics is fascinating. I’ll wait a few more days.

So fascinating that the last great topics of the Spanish debate and a lot of Spanish have been Alberto Garzón’s steak, Yolanda Díaz’s motherland -Borges would not abandon the banana because of its size chuminá- and so that we do not lack na, the ultramarine aroma of Cuba. In those we are, there is no more gray matter that illuminates us every day, when it still smells early, than the one that springs vaporized from the minds of the brainy lineage of the bench stationed in the court, be it in the newsrooms, in the hallways of the posh offices or the twilight cenacles of Madrid. Although there is a lot of tentacular telework in the guts of power.

It is useless to protest because we hardly know anything about the Creole violence against liberties in Colombia, nor about the Pentagon’s recognition of having trained the murderous mercenaries of the president of Haiti, nor how things are going in Abu Dhabi. Nor of how the chickens of fascism are growing in the eastern part of the European Union with the disturbing projection in Spain.

The flow of poorly planted and often patchy information about the corruption that has grown out of the public domain in the sewers of power does not seem important either. The clans of El Tinte, del Rubio, de los Peralta, seem like a minor game in Campo de Gibraltar compared to the clans that surround the Ibex 35, the Ministry of the Interior and the outskirts and interiors of 13 rue de Genova. The rogue geography of the patriots of the flag of convenience, with a marque certificate – yes, because many have marque marque, that is, permission from power to plunder us – we know it by heart: Switzerland, Andorra, Jersey, Luxembourg, the Islands. Cayman, Panama … We could already talk about the Villarejo clan.

And this in the worst of cases but in the best, that is to say, with the appearance of law, the large extractive companies, particularly the electricity companies, are campaigning in their pants, impoverishing families and ruining small entrepreneurs and freelancers.

We should leave the protection to politics and the judges, but neither should we. The carcunda has celebrated with joy the decision of the Constitutional Court to charge the state of alarm. The joy has only diminished to the extent that a decent magistrate, Cándido Conde-Pumpido has taken out the dialectical whip to leave his fellow magistrates and the joyful followers of the lack of common sense and the State struck down.

Constitutional bodies and institutions are trading down. The insubordination to the civil and democratic power, when not an open one lawfare, is a daily observation. The filibustering of the main opposition party -in number- in order not to renew the CGPJ, the Court of Accounts, the Constitutional Court, can only mean one thing, that the expired majorities currently entrenched in the insubordination are in favor of a status quo that it does not have the democratic support of the majority of citizens expressed at the polls. The attitude of the beneficiaries, judges, magistrates, lawyers of recognized loss of prestige, civil servants and others, are but the most infamous expression of the most infamous politician, patronage, immorality and institutional militancy.

Just a few words from the lost blackbird. Ciudadanos is in Congress, without the euphoria, editorials and performative polls of their godparents of yesteryear. In search of another label, of another costume that they will not find even in the well-stocked costume store of Pichardo, in Seville.

The government is slow, sometimes lacking in shyness, while the majority that made it possible despair. The bad thing is that those previously excited people also decide, ahead of Manuel Vicent’s time, to get under a banana and get hit.



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