I come from Liverpool, the city of Beatles. I have toured its museum full of photos of excited girls, distraught faces, fainting and overacting gestures at the four musicians’ concerts. I have never understood the fan spiritthat adoration without measure, that erases any defect, that idealizes without limits.
Scenes that remind me of political parties in Spain. That socialist congress, a few days ago, filled with more applause than self-criticismthe faithful of the extreme right with their hands raised and their Francoist proclamations against Ferraz, or the followers of PP who do not question Feijoó covering up Mazón or Mazon covering up himself. Militants, who are fans professing a religion as a matter of faith, without questioning whether their own err and if they do, two Our Fathers are enough.
You will tell me that militants are one thing and voters, citizens, are another. critics that we place our trust in the party that best represents our interests. And I tell you that today they are the same. We vote for some so that the others do not leave, and for the others so that the ones do not win. We let the fratricidal war that the political class unleashes, infects us, as if our militancy depended on it.
We are not playing for a card, we are playing for something more serious, a decent salary, education, access to housing or healthcare for all. But of course, when even politicians question science and theory of evolution in favor of that of creation, we have the consequences. The multiplication of coreligionists, instead of free and rational citizens. How would I say Greater Ear and Matthew 14, verse 13, the multiplication of the fans and the fish.