A few August ago, it emerged that the Hindu god Ganesh had entered a church in Ceuta, carried on stretchers and to the sound of a salvo rociera intoned by the unbiased parishioners. That kind of paperback Alliance of Civilizations that, with a few subplots, would be the comedy of manners that Ealing Studios would have craved is on YouTube and is my emergency antidepressant. If I need to increase the dose, I do a double session with the video of the Telemadrid reporter who took to the streets of Carmena in search of a crackdown on central Madrid, only to find citizens’ stubborn quest to choose clean air over chronic lung disease.
As the magic of direct play tricks editorial lines, editors are becoming ever more careful and precise. This week they pulled off feats: from Galicians complaining about indoors at 27 degrees when we in the North look at the air conditioners with the same oddness as Johnny Weissmuller looks at the elevators in Tarzan in , to complaints that are already an anthology of nonsense are: ” The ice is going up, but the salaries are not,” shouts a passer-by on the Antena 3 news, because the revolution will be in a ball cup or not, and in the absence of a major sports competition this summer, why not the Olympics of the Lack of solidarity in prime time.
Rooted in the worse, the better for audiences, the supposedly informative shows have mutated the usual summer snakes into Komodo dragons so blatantly that they end up falling into parody; The fact that they sold us the end of the world every week took away my personal strength to face the ice gate. At least not without first calming down with a dose of save Ganesh.
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