Montilla at LSE

The British establishment doesn’t give a rat’s arse what he thinks.

Jordi over at Un dietarari londinenc provides a rare commonsensical lining to the Catalan-language politico-administrative blogocloudcuckooland, and he’s written an interesting rundown on the (not my joke) Catalan Khrushchev’s appearance at the London School of Economics. Something he uncharacteristically doesn’t mention, but which I have mentioned before and I think is worth repeating, is that such events are purely for domestic, Spanish consumption. Like Carod’s worldwide sightseeing trips to his pseudo-embassies, there’s not a single mention in the British (or any other English-language) press of Mr Montilla’s views on the compatibility of, for example, language policy with the development of a knowledge economy. No one gives a rat’s arse what he thinks or does, which to some will provide immense satisfaction while to others it may seem surprising, given the budgetary and political weakness of central government.

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  1. Since he spoke in Catalan, there’s not much chance that even the Spanish press will have known what he was on about. Though I bet he had a nice lunch. Wot a twot.

  2. Nothing wrong with using a foreign platform to increase domestic ratings, but Blair giving a speech in Geordie in Paris? I think not.

  3. So that would explain why you blog in English about stuff which is purely of interest to Spanish speakers?

  4. If I could shut them out completely I would. The only posts they are interested in are ones suggesting they may get a chance to kill to their neighbours or others they think may help them fix their lousy computers.

    Welcome back to drunk commenting! I tried to tone it down a bit after making a bit of a mess after a night out with the tequila girls, but Sunday evenings have become unbearably dull.

  5. That does count as shameless spamming, hence the edit.

    But, since we took a look anyway, this anecdote: Once a small company was taken over by a big company and the new CTO flew over the Atlantic to talk to the small company and strode in and looked at us sternly and said, “Hi, I’m Blah Blah, and I’m a father, a husband, and a Christian,” and everyone laughed because no one in his right mind says anything like that except in jest. Big sea, the Atlantic. (The Pacific too.)

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