Greatness of Spain

Last Wednesday night the candidates for the presidency of Madrid coincided on the television grid (two of the candidates wore the same look); Rocío Carrasco, who, following her flight as a Phoenix, opted for peacock blue; while Queen Elizabeth of England, who was 95 years old, and the ghost of Lady Di butterflies in a documentary that analyzed how their famous interview with the BBC was conceived, recounting their years of marriage. A binge of unique women linked to spectacle and power. Or to the power of the show. With embarrassment, I could not sleep.

Tossing and turning in my bed, I thought about the ability of women to become heroines, martyrs, and candidates. Before analyzing the interview on set with Rocío Jurado’s daughter, I suggested to myself that Diana de Gales’ testimony 26 years ago is similar to the one that Rocío Carrasco recounted in her docuserie: women who try to make people hear the deception to which they have been subjected and that machismo manages to silence, ignore or reduce the eternal headline: “She is half crazy.”

Rocío Carrasco managed to gain some more credibility, without leaving the roadmap that what she is telling is so that we can all identify the psychological abuse and, incidentally, of course, unmask her ex-husband. And so Telecinco snatched the audience from the politicians’ debate. That they feel important and don’t dress like they are. They insist that appearance is not relevant but I am clear that it is the clumsy strategy of downplaying something that you do not master. When we saw the More Madrid candidate with the same American color as her nemesis, the president of the Community, I argued that Diaz Ayuso surely enjoyed that coincidence because it neutralized her opponent. Moral, you have to bring several changes to a debate. As Bibiana Fernández has always defended: put in the suitcase more than you need, because you are going to need it.

My favorite moment of that Wednesday night was when my friends, very well trained but television dispersed, stopped changing channels on the remote. Rocío Carrasco was saying that her daughter had beaten her and had told her father, over the phone, “it’s done” and the remote was buried between the cushions of the sofa. And we did not return to the electoral debate, the last we saw was Rocío Monasterio with a parental pin in her ponytail and a purple jacket, the color of United We Can. What little head! I thought. The truth is that communism has the gift of appropriating the colors that its enemies are crazy about. When the Chavistas seized red, then in Caracas the elegant ladies invented the coral color, to be able to strain that scarlet that makes you feel more dynamic but without raising political suspicions.

The next day, I woke up better but with the great scam mounted by some Grandes de España. The two shotguns and a Goya from the father of the husband of the former president of the Community of Madrid, Esperanza Aguirre, whose brother has now denounced that they probably sold under the hood and without declaring to the Treasury or artistic heritage, or anything, and that seems to expose Again the greatness of the Popular Party when it prefers freedom from hoax or communism. The Greats of Spain declared, yes, the two old shotguns. But if former President Aguirre went to TV to hit a couple of shots and tell how was the story of that family Goya sold in a moment of trouble, I am sure that she would not have the courage or the courage of Rocío Carrasco to uncover all the brother-in-law fierce of the house of the Ramírez de Haro. They the goyas they wash them at home.

Disclaimer: If you need to update/edit/remove this news or article then please contact our support team Learn more

Leave a Reply