State alarming, day 61 – Castellón Journal


The queues of the hungry are not games

The concern is as a virus that brings us closer to a permanent state of obsession not recommended. There are objective reasons to notice the infection in the mood, it decays, it lets go and leaves. And there is subjective type environmental, because the day has dawned grey, cold and rainy, or because who knows if the recent drop in temperatures has led to the HdP recover your comfort zone. The evidence of the Thursday, may 14, the eve of San Isidro: is there more hiv infections (506, until 229.540) and more deaths (217, until 27.321). There are more families who can’t find a simple answer to a punishment brought upon the beyond –Trump says to China; Macron suspect, as Dominic Raab; Sanchez is not pronounced-. There are more families devastated, broken by the pain, and most patients that die alone, without other consolation than the palliative treatment, of the to ignore it all. “The sedan and reaches his time.” The solution is to drastic for after the screening.

Those convicted of coronavirus up to the gallows deprived of will. It is an objective fact. The attack of the Covid-19 is so fucking cruel and ruthless as William Munny (Clint Eastwood, “unforgiven”): “Now I’m going to go out, if I see some bastard out there, we will kill you, and if some bastard is going to shoot me, not only kill him but kill his wife, all his friends and I’ll singe your damn house, do you hear me?”. Do you listen to the politicians, some political policies, the outrages and the bullshit that you spit out? Will there be reconsidered Rafael Simancas when you have been shown that pointing to Madrid as the third community with more lethality of the world by “the Covid” has gotten the leg up to the hock? Only in Spain there are three communities with rates worse than the locals in that sad chapter: Castilla-La Mancha, Extremadura and Aragon. What is the fault of the three regional governments, all of the PSOE, the lethality of this pandemic in Spain, it is the fault of the Central Government, that everything what dominates, what brings together and orders it, or is it simply fate? The campaigns of promotion, or of destruction or are arranged conscientiously or not there is your aunt. A half-truth trashes a job well done; a lie portrays who the spread.

The documentary evidence does not support replicas, or the algaradas “coronapijas” in the upscale neighborhood of Salamanca, where he lives, Pablo Echenique –precisely he happened to “coronapijo”, or the queues of the hungry in Aluche. It is little edifying to see a guy with a golf club to pound a traffic signal by claiming, perhaps, to return to practice their favorite sport at any time of the day and without time limit. The “Lame Butter” was more convincing. The contrast, in another district of madrid, the Aluche. In Barcelona, the demand for food social has grown these days 40%, more or less as in Madrid. The food banks run out of stock a week in a day, because they are not only the poor ask who succors; now, in those long queues of Aluche, where is kept the social distance and not as in Núñez de Balboa, there are people who have been without employment, without savings, without resources, without the possibility of pawn a ring, in the Monte de Piedad because they are left with nothing, almost no hope. They depend on the charity. Do not get the benefits, or the payment of the ERTE or the IMV (Income Vital Minimum). Today, Spain is the fifth European Union country with the highest rate of risk of poverty, behind Latvia, Lithuania, Bulgaria and Romania. Perhaps the explanation for so much misery, so much hardship, to so poverty, unemployment and devastation to find a solution in the pilgrim theories of the deputy Simancas: if Aluche outside a neighborhood of Bucharest, and not Madrid, in Spain would not have so much hardship demonstrated.

I’m reading “Disgrace” by J. M. Coetzee. On the cover of the book, a dog starving to make sure that any bad weather may be worse. The odds are cyclical, they repeat in a certain time, is curious, as is striking the conclusion reached by this Nobel of Literature on the implementation of the censor –the minister Castells thinks, like in China or North Korea, Iran or Cuba, that there are intervening social networks, nest of hoaxes and “fake news”-. Writes Coetzee, the censor, in the roman sense of the term, was born when the surveillance became the key, the monitoring of all on all, and the forgiveness was replaced by the purge. All of which I generates insecurity, do we censor or us we censure? The self-censorship and journalism do not eat in the same dish. And to claim rights without saving the proper precautions, or that is, the famous social distance of a few meters, it is not argument or proof because it leads directly to the dissolution, the fine and the purge. The protest piled up against the Government, shouting slogans against the 8-M, is such as to justify the rally of VOX 7-M because Moncloa did not forbid it. It is said of someone who doesn’t have two fingers of forehead when “performs a series of acts which denote that lacks the minimum common sense, or intelligence”. Do not do what you criticize, and not to criticise what you are going to do. Yes, we are apañados.

Day 60 of an Alarm State. The queues of the hungry are not a game, or the novel of Suzanne Collins, nor the movie from Gary Ross with Jennifer Lawrence in plan heroin. What happens in Aluche and in so many districts of so many cities and so many towns of Spain is as real as this life that we live. Accommodated in our strength, doing marathons for the hallway and the living room, connecting from time to time the tv to keep up with the gloom of the bad news, or the computer or the laptop to keep the thread in the exterior and in constant operation is a relative reality, our own vessel. And still breathing the same air and stepping on the tarmac of the same city, you could think of as to those citizens of that song by Joan Manuel Serrat, that we live in a parallel world. “The neighbor of Kundera seems to mine. / If something is remarkable, no one would say. / It is a very correct that is passed to the-day / eight-hours typing on computer. / My neighbor comes home and turns on the tv. / And provides the family with sidra ‘El Gaitero’. / When the announcer says that in the whole world / there is not a safer place to be than our city. / My neighbor never knew that that same night / raped in your street a teenage girl. / Who stormed to two old and a pauper / appeared slain in the alley…”. As “The grandmother of Kundera” and of Belchite, Nines, great-grandmother of Martin, knows as much of life as you have been taught the 90-year-old. You know, for example, that “all out”. She is very religious, and disciplined. Angel “Guardian” Stones sent me a video with this foot: “we Continue to make progress.” And looks to the Nines with a face mask, although slowly, he walks leaning on a cane. Less than a year ago I needed a wheelchair. “The cane I carry it in the left hand, because as the stroke affected me on the right side, that arm, I tremble a lot. But I’m very happy. When I arrived at the residence he could no longer walk”. Angel has forbidden it to him, however, venturing alone with the cane if it is not he; they can use the walker, which is more secure. “That he has told me, and led me around the room with a finger. And to think that I could not walk and barely move when I arrived…”. Test overcome, Nines. It is less. The day started awry, but ends up infinitely better after watching that video and humming another stanza of Serrat: “The abuelita de Kundera, and also mine / they knew each herb and their applications. / Knew what you had inside the mattresses. / Could read the sky and baked the bread.” #animopacienciaysolidaridad

Julian Round