The Telegraph publishes a story to the effect that Combat 18 plotted last July to murder Garzón, who has also apparently survived ETA assassination attempts via the gift of poisonous French brandy (tautology?) two years ago and an aborted sniper attack on his Madrid office in 2000. There are various curiosities:
- The latest story appears to have only Garzón as its source, and the others were published in his favourite newspaper, El País, on the basis of leaks afaik unconfirmed by third parties. That’s not much to go on.
- None seems to have resulted in any subsequent action, despite appearances that the police had the sniper well-covered and could have brought charges against the cognac poisoner had they wanted.
- Some of the allegations are simply incredible. Even allowing for the Spain-is-different corruption meme, would even the naivest of terrorists really assume that a prominent judge would be able to receive and would consume such a gift? During ETA’s 2000 killing spree, would Garzón really have been working in full public view? Would the moribund Combat 18 or any notional Dutch franchise thereof really have had any interest in getting rid of Garzón when it was already clear that Spanish legal process was going to do their work for them?
- Such announcements appear to coincide conveniently with negative PR centred on Garzón. This latest instalment, as well as trailing the Coixet hagiography, provides welcome succour on the eve of the hearings that will probably see him kicked out of his job. The cognac heroics were announced the day after Garzón was accused of committing a serious offence by freeing two narcos, and the Day of the Jackal scenario came amidst international controversy over the humans rights implications of more aggressive anti-ETA legislation, whose implementation was being driven by Garzón. (Advocatus Dei: So what? He’s always in the news.)
Bear with me: this kind of stuff keeps the lunchtime soap at bay.
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The soap is for your mouth?
Like all self-respecting superheroes I use a sand blaster.
A good guess would be that the only person in the world he didn’t piss off was Paul Jibson.
I love the guy, he’s got fancy hair.
Trebot’s just jealous.
(Coz he’s got Nun.)
My only consolation is that when this blog’s commenter turns against me, I have two convents where I can hide: a Dutch one with 150 reasonably liberal nuns, and an Andalusian convent with a nymphomaniac Guinean doorlady.
(Can we do a truth and reconciliation session in say 20 years to find out whothefuck you all are?)
Oh, 150 nuns are more than none, or Nun. You lucky basterd.
As to the brackets, I’m just a normal guy, but in 20 years I’ll most probably be ripe for the convent, chastity and vow of silence included. Meanwhile, let’s have fun. This is a good place for it, and more.