One of the funniest moments in April, the film of Nanni Moretti on the Italian campaign of 1996, takes place when the actor and director are directed to the television in your house during a debate and begs to the candidate of the former Communist Party: “D Alema, say something left-wing”. Tonight there will be millions of viewers doing the Moretti during the debate to five. Given the fear of the gender of some candidates and the rigidity of the format in Spain, there were moments when the show will look like the zapping of five rallies. But it will not. That’s why the protagonists of the great night would do well to take into account the warning of Christopher Hitchens: “The people as a mass is very often an intelligence inferior to that of their component parts.” One imagines the cry of a sports complex and understands the desire to storm the heavens, dividing the country into two blocks —caste and ETA— or promise the bell, the reconquista and full employment. Also to Woody Allen it felt like to invade Poland when he listened to Wagner. How you’re not going to see you entering the first at the finish of The Moncloa if you do the hallway and made of whole cloth the umpteenth clone of Chariots of fire?

a Thing very different must be the silence of the Glass Pavilion of the Casa de Campo. There the words hollow rumble on the double. Balzac, who wrote a human comedy, to oppose to the divine —dante by definition, it was very clear: the soul of every one is to their personal income TAX. The same could be said of your idea of fatherland or democracy. That’s why it would be good that the candidates will avoid abstractions, generalizations, and big words. Not going to sound like Vangelis. Among the poets run the disturbing advice that in a verse is better the word apple to the word loneliness. In politics it is preferable to hear about the price of apples. Just so we can ask accounts then.

Neither would be wrong for someone to ask forgiveness. By not lead to other choices —it is prohibited to say they were— or what they were promised and not met —forbidden to say markets, Brussels— but for use in hours pseudoinfantil ways that then multiply in the bars and on soccer fields. The minute of gold of the debate spokesmen last Friday was not the typical final cooked looking at the camera but the moment that Gabriel Ruffian apologized to Inés Arrimadas by referring to Citizens as “these”. Does the minute gold officer? At this point in the game is the minute of the trash. Maybe Irene Montero opened on the same day a new sub-genre to read in the quadrant of a worker. Although five quadrants would be too many, would grace Paul Married read the Florentino Perez. The close most credible remains, however, that Juan María Bandrés used in a european: “it gives Me a lot of shame, but I have to ask for the vote.”


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