So many strange things happen in Spain that one does not quite understand them very well. For example, Santiago Abascal drops one of those pearls that you don’t know if they are going up or down, the kind that shine with great brilliance and that you need to be repeated to make sure it was not a dream: “If we had wanted someone defending the Vox’s ideological postulates, I would have risen to the rostrum myself.” But I-myself will not go up, the-other-myself will go up, the aforementioned, that is, Ramón Tamames, so that Abascal and his people do not have to dirty their hands.
So, what postulates, what ideas, what messages, what projects will Tamames defend and release? Will they be homegrown or collectivized? Will it be the 40 of bastos or the 40 of cups? Will they be a reflux of the voice of the tropics in a parliamentary version? Will it be the voice of Vox but reduced so that no one gets constipated? In a few words, what does Abascal’s party intend with this sad national spectacle by placing an intermediary as if they had no one else to turn to since Macarena Olona flew? What does this ultra-light Vox want with the right voice lent to you by Tamames?
Many say that they are trying to put a cape on Sánchez, so that there is no talk of the “Yes is Yes Law”, nor of ‘Tito Berni’, nor of the Trans Law… I don’t believe it. I don’t believe that Vox misses the shot so much, and he wants to play Russian roulette with the simple objective of appearing in the photos making the partridge dizzy, but letting his overwhelmed matrix be seen from behind. There is something more there than a locked cat looking to gobble up a can of ‘Friskies’.
Ours lasted as long as two movements of ice lasted in a whiskey on the rocks. Oh sea, little thing. Why does Vox insist on discrediting itself? She does not have enough of the constant belittlement and insults that Pedro Sánchez dedicates to them in parliamentary session, with a lack of respect from the President of the Government who cries out to heaven and invalidates all political dignity. It seems that Abascal has lost the compass, neither he nor his people are clear about what his true objective is when it comes to getting votes. Olona’s betrayal has caught them the wrong way, and they do not have a clear replacement that triangulates that easy-whip ballad that the former lady of Vox handled so well.
The motion of censure will bring many thick words and few clear ideas. The icing on the cake will be put by Tamames who will try to dazzle instead of illuminate, they are the things of the old egos that never die. But it is also his opportunity to tell some indisputable truths, which will not serve to change a president but will put Sánchez in trouble and place some black flags on him that make him uncomfortable. Be careful that when you least expect it, surprises pop up at La Condomina. Tamames is 89 years old but he is not a fool of a duster, and the ripping or unstitching can be done by the president himself, who is the one who has something to lose, especially if he thinks he can dispatch his opponent as if he were Pepa Pig’s grandfather .
Sánchez has made it clear that he does not sufficiently distinguish “good people” with “good people”. Tamames may explain it to him by introducing him to “Tito Berni”, a PSOE deputy, a former deputy to be exact, named Juan Bernardo Fuentes Curbelo, whom no one knows now but with whom even the Prime Minister himself took happy photos. , and who has the stinking gift of moving like a fish in water among the corrupt offices and brothels of those other ‘good people’, the ones who handle their earned dough with ease and drop their pants at the first change when the ladies prostitutes appear in the room.
We will see how the ‘Tito Berni’ thing ends, if the outlandish motion of ‘Tito Tamames’ ends up eclipsing with its flowery verb the bad rolls of corruption and the brothel of the former socialist deputy, Fuentes Curbelo, or if instead it remains in the “antenna” mediates the necessary time; It doesn’t need to last as long as the 169 covers that ‘El País’ dedicated to Camps’ suits, it is enough that the informational tension does not accidentally submerge in the dialectical massage of that motion of censure that comes wrapped without emotion.
For Moncloa, ‘Tito Berni’ is a low blow that is not easy to accept in these pre-electoral times, one more in the long list of unresolved problems. However, the big problem for the candidate Sánchez is not so much defeating Núñez Feijóo, but rather defeating himself, managing to change and improve his reviled image and ensuring that the Spanish do not find it unbearable to think that Sánchez has to govern this country for years. That’s the problem.