The advantage of being the last to comment on the current anger is that all the nonsense has already been said and the most obvious ones can be avoided. The problem is that the sides are already defined and all opinions end up on one side of the wall or the other. That's why, in these cases, the smartest thing to do is to take advantage of the fact that the fight has reached its climax to go out on a whim and praise Estonian television's latest masterpiece in the Filmin catalog. But columns are about stepping in puddles and sinking knee-deep in mud, not walking around them and coming out dry.
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I'm not surprised at the politicization, because in Spain that's exactly what's being politicized, but I was amazed at the simulated intellectual debate about Zorra of Nebulossa. I forced myself to listen to the song several times in case I missed something, because as I read its attackers and defenders it seemed to me as if they were talking about an unpublished sequel to Beauvoir's The Second Sex. They talked about a feminist and empowered milestone, even about semantic resignifications and complex operations of poetic and philosophical activism, but all I saw was a wild little song, very typical of the Benidorm festival and intended to be heard at every village wedding at midnight about to be danced Uncle Rufino takes off his tie and ties it on his head to lead the conga.
And that's okay. What else could one expect? I don't think anyone goes to Benidorm or the Eurovision Song Contest in the same mood as someone who goes to a series of March Foundation conferences. I believed that the value of all this stuff lay precisely in its frivolity and exuberance, in its celebration of the cheesy and kitschy. Wasn't that his carnival strength? The beauty of the holidays is that they are not classes, fairs or rallies, but I feel like they want to turn all the parties into classes, fairs and rallies at the same time.
I have always deplored the concept of educational play, from which children suffer so much and who are usually not allowed to play freely, without purpose or benefit. Now it seems as if we adults have to go through the same hoop and make good use of our sinful time by mixing confession and repentance in the same pleasure. Fun with a message, recklessness with self-knowledge, drunkenness with anagnorisis, Eurovision Song Contests with bibliography. Amen, but don't take my word for it.
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