Laporta, that great Spaniard – La Galerna

Good morning. Yesterday was Columbus Day and Negreira’s consumer membership had no higher concept than to attempt to provoke the employees. They suppose we’re within the eighties they usually can act like Almodóvar with prudish consciences, or one thing like that. Many issues might be stated about them (many, the truth is, and most of them definitely degrading), however the initially of all is that, institutionally talking, they’re textbook rednecks and cheesy individuals. It’s important to have little or no, little or no class to get away with this supposedly vindictive trill on the day when Spain celebrates its nationwide vacation.

Virtually all the pieces has already been stated concerning the politicization of Negreira’s consumer membership and there needs to be no doubts about it. It’s (this submit on that exact day proves it once more) the principle propaganda ingredient of the Catalan independence trigger. They’re good when it comes to advertising, which produces the impact that hundreds of thousands? of men in Argentina, Zimbabwe or Thailand imagine they’re followers of a membership that represents a rustic subjugated by one other, or one thing like that. The counterpropaganda that nobody will ever do, however that if somebody cared concerning the reality somebody ought to do, ought to begin with the closest factor: the stupefaction produced by the existence in October 2025 of respectable gents from Palencia or Cáceres who passionately drink the winds for an anti-Spanish and corrupt membership to the core produces stupefaction, astonishment, disbelief. Though, given examples of quintessentially Spanish gents, who higher than Laporta himself?

Let’s not fiddle: Laporta is the epitome of nice Spanish. Joker. Braggart. Stump. Lover of wine and girls. A staunch fan of fine consuming, with out worry of the burden and cardiovascular penalties that this passion can entail if exercised with out measure. Energetic, fatuous, exhibitionist, self-conscious (“I like being president,” he tells us from the duvet of Sport, hugging a lovely younger lady carrying a silver mannequin, as in the event that they have been each on Broadway or the West Finish though the topic’s nearly sure flatulence relatively suggests place names the place sausage is a vital part of the native food regimen).

Laporta is a good Spaniard, you may’t deny it, he cannot deny it. Cynical, hypocritical to the core, like probably the most conspicuous whitewashed carpetovetonic tombs: he’s an professional in pretending to be offended when all the pieces signifies that the world needs to be offended by him, a grasp within the artwork of picaresque, of liveliness so purely Spanish. He’s a personality from Buscón or Lazarillo de Tormes, paradigms of classics of bullskin literature. The honesty of the person who quadrupled Negreira’s wage is conspicuous by its absence, constituting a real underworld character, however in case you inform him so, he tears his garments and proclaims himself the custodian of the inheritance of non-existent heroes who apparently waged an unequal conflict towards a colonial energy, or related. In brief, he embodies one after the other all of the defects of the common Spanish citizen, with out relying on any of his virtues.

We depart you with the remainder of the covers that, as befits the break, are uninspiring.

Have day.