Why Javier Cercas’ pseudo-authentic Anatomía de un instante so appalled me, and El Follonero’s 23-F mockumentary Operación Palace struck me as brilliant. I’d have liked some Austen zombies, but I suppose their moment has passed. (Of cats and hares. I gave up Galdós’ inventions of nation ages ago, but enjoyed them at the time, rather…
This morning someone rather unusual said something to me along the lines of: Hice tres footin(g)(s) pero se me rompió el tendón(g), entonces dos liftin(g)(s) y ya me ves la cara, y luego en el hospital me metieron un dopin(g) tremendo y ahora estoy en una relación con la farmacéutica y lo llamo la ley…
Too many Spanish restaurants these days try to limit you to one glass of the grape with your fixed price menú del día, inside of plonking a bucket of some nature in front of you and refilling as often required. I fear that Capitán Garfío (has anyone been there?) in Prat de Llobregat will be…
Says David Maeztu re the anti-Yankee, but far more widely applicable, IP reform. The desertion of public opinion by both PP and PSOE to collaborate with proportionately insignificant peripheral nationalisms at least makes political sense: the systematic electoral underweighting of small national parties means that you’re unlikely to be able to deal profitably with them…
Over at Rob Lunn’s gaff. The RAE is currently preparing a major update of its entry to justify the imminent de-imputation on the grounds of incomprehension of the Infanta, whose university degrees might suggest she is actually in full command of her senses, thus helping us forget those babes and fools (oh so wise!) who…
Perhaps an early comment on what to newcomers may appear a genetic peculiarity of the Iberians, whereby fairness affects a far higher proportion of women than men.
Del Cancionero popular de Lafuente: Es amor una llama, Que no la entiendo, Pues sin salir el humo Se ve el incendio. Más. Mi amor se encuentra ahora en el jom peig en forma del mono del día.
