Sorry that I have not yet spoken, but it is that I keep thinking about the announcement of changing headquarters that Casado announced. It broke my waist, I confess it, and I am still undergoing intensive balms and treatments to see if I recover or become crippled.
Resigning or terminating a building is a unique milestone, without a doubt, and it seems more like a Feng-shui advice or an Eleuá than a political decision of some importance. In Singapore or Thailand, experts teach you where to place the mirrors of the house or when to inaugurate a skyscraper finished on the advice of the hidden cabals of specialists. In Africa, the Caribbean or Brazil, a “pai o mai de santo” or a shaman may recommend that you bathe with white flowers to ward off an evil eye or to start a business. But that is not the case, as far as I know, unless the indication comes from an orchard in the Mar Menor who has been asked after consulting a basket of freshly cut peppers.
Casado did not clarify if the change includes moving to a new headquarters or joining an existing one, for example Citizens. Or to Ferraz, I don’t know, to melt into a hug and share and save on expenses. In that way, at least, the communications would be more fluid and, as the touch makes the affection, they could even agree to the renewal of the CGPJ and from there everything is downhill to scrap democracy.
It would not exactly be a re-founding of the party like the one Aznar carried out before Casado became the former president’s chief of staff, nor perhaps an absorption, but it would be an assimilation, as if you put a reface or a snapchat of the that are now used on mobiles, where you put your face to a sequence, for example from The Godfather, in such a way that María Jesús Montero would move her hands, with her brocades, her lace and her curls, and would issue proposals to raise taxes and screw the businessmen, to investors and the self-employed, but the face that we would see would be that of Teodoro.
It remains to agree if the voice and diction will be that of one or the other, but that is minutiae compared to the benefit for the business.
The center is a very large place, suggests the leader of the PP and, far from being vague, it is a commitment to remain firm. Of course, as a general rule, in Spain driving through the center is extremely risky, because we know that not all of them are going in the same direction and there are those who circulate on one side or the other, that if you do not get on the shoulder, you will run into the one that comes accelerated or they run over you.
It happened to the UCD, which with the thick traffic of those times wanted to stay in the middle of the road and they liquidated it, despite the fact that it had an accredited and firm pilot like Adolfo Suárez. Curiously, Casado began as a deputy for the demarcation of Avila, the small homeland of the statesman who failed to prevent his vast party from being laminated.
Of course, I agree with those of the demoscopia that the largest electoral space is in the center, but without forgetting the premise that the center is that undefined, vague and imprecise territory that people on the street identify with the less common of the senses, although common sense is a term that is often still more undefined than claiming centered and, furthermore, you have it or you don’t have it.
Zapatero, for example, was as far from common sense as anyone can imagine, so he started driving like someone who drives a crazy car and failed when cornering. Until people, exhausted from crashing, decided to put themselves in the hands of a parsimonious and slow but firm driver, capable of transferring the feeling that he would end up returning us home.
Aznar, on the other hand, had grabbed the wheel promising a risky and even reckless driving, which included accelerating fully in the curves to get there as soon as possible and hurry away from the socialist postulates with the “Go away, sir. González ”…. And Casado was co-pilot on that trip.
Sports commentators say that in the center of the field is where soccer matches are won or lost, although for many soccer is a competition of gentlemen who play a handful of barbarians, unlike rugby, a sport of hoolligans or of villains played by gentlemen, and it seems to me that Casado is a tennis player clad in spotless breeches who still doesn’t know that we’re rolling in the mud against a gang of thugs and cheaters who play something else.
In the center of this sanchicomunista Spain I only see a desolate landscape with the remains of vandalism and the stones thrown by the rioters consented to by Marlaska and by Trapero, to whom Justice, out of sheer goodness, he preferred to leave without conviction after having exercised himself as the stupid arm of the law during the attempted coup.
The coup plotter, like the postman, almost always calls twice. This is what Fidel Castro did, first with the assault on the Moncada barracks, and also Hugo Chávez, to whom the Justice showed suicidal benevolence and thereby allowed Junqueras and his family to return for grapes, now emboldened and with the staff used to events.
We do not learn from History and I have the harsh feeling that Casado, the centrist whose spaces are narrowed, continues to be convinced that it is enough to have reason to obtain power, while the left, so vicious and heir to so many ominous blows, knows with certainty that the first thing is to get hold of the BOE and then you take care that the facts give you the ‘reason’, with hammer blows.
The regional barons of the PP (Ayuso, Feijoo, Moreno Bonilla …) constitute right now the only true support for the game that Casado and Teodoro play. Sanchicomunismo knows it and for that reason it hits on those flanks and has stopped worrying about the leader, who drags Cayetana like a shadow or like the chains of a ghost, while Abascal has a snack in the center without moving from his positions and reduces him to a place that reminds too much of the CDS in which the PP and C’s try to take refuge.
“There is no bed for so many people …”, sang El gran combo de Puerto Rico, so they decided … to move to another building. Well okay.
I said.
–