I’m trying to get rid of addictions that have made me very happy and very unhappy, always to extremes, in the name of survival. But there are some that I don’t want to get rid of because they bring me a lot of joy and don’t give me a hangover. They are the cartoons by El Roto and the articles by the cursed Fernando Savater.
The second, stigmatized by the powerful, stupid, insubstantial, predictable, and disgusting sign of the times, is branded mad, reactionary, traitor, inconsistent with what he has defended or criticized for so many years. He’s a heretic, he’s a facha, he’s a provocateur, the author of Pamphlet Against Everything is unbearable. But what did you expect, real idiots, from a being so unpredictable, so deeply anarchistic, so Voltairian, so unique, so wise, so authentic?
I fell in love with his writing infinitely many years ago with an article entitled “Culture as a Form of Boredom”. Fernando Trueba and I made up an interview with him without being able to publish it anywhere. He told and thought about everything with a priceless style. There are two of his books that will remain on my bedside table until the day I buy them. They are La infancia recuperada and creatures of the air. I don’t have to agree with him to admire his talent, it happens to me when he positions himself fervently on political parties or sheikhs in which he believes. But I don’t care about this passionate support, although I don’t like it. His work shows me that his intelligence remains as free as it is powerful. I love the writer Savater. It seems to me a luxury for culture, thinking and the art of conveying things that are worthwhile.
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