Of politics and worse

Times of the Revolution. Babalucas’s grandfather was hired as a spy in the service of the established order. The rumor spread that Zapata’s troops, called by some “the Caudillo del Sur” and by others “the Atila suriano,” were approaching Don Mélido’s sugar plantation. The news embittered the landowner’s day, who sent Babalucas’s grandfather to find out if that rumor was true. The next day the envoy returned. Don Mélido asked him nervously: “Is Zapata coming?” “No, sir,” the spy informed him. “I brought the donkey.” I like theories. They are so theoretical! The one I’m not on good terms with is practice. Theories are girls without compromise that you can entertain yourself with. Practice, by contrast, is a stern midwife who never indulges in futile games or conversation. Far from me the reckless idea of ​​contradicting Goethe, but I think that theories are gold, silver, green, red and yellow, like the paper in which the cherry chocolates of my children’s Christmas were wrapped, while the practice has the grayish hue of reality. That is why I flee from the practical whenever I can and go the way of the theoretical, although they almost always lead me nowhere. Also that nowhere is beautiful. Today I will present a theory of which, of course, I am not an author, but I am a convinced believer. There are those who say that the Earth, which they give the name of Gea or Gaya, our planet, is a living being, a creature with intelligence and instincts of its own capable of defending itself against its main predator, man, the only animal capable of destroying it. When something threatens her, for example an increase in the human population, Gea immediately develops measures to protect herself. These means can be evident – an epidemic – or disguise themselves as social concepts that are, although man is not aware of it, defensive resources of the Earth in the face of the actions of that dangerous animal that puts its existence at risk. It seems to me that institutions like marriage and monogamy will eventually disappear, since both contribute to population growth. On the other hand, other uses such as abortion, polygamy or free love, homosexual relationships, all forms of human interaction that do not increase the world’s population, but rather tend to decrease it, will proliferate. That by virtue of the instinct of conservation that this living creature that does not want to die has: our planet. Thus, what today is the object of reproach, especially by religions, would be our salvation, the salvation of the house in which humanity lives. Theory, I know. Pure theory. But Monday is the day when reality presents itself to us in a particularly devious way. So we have to face that gray day with Technicolor theories, like the silver, gold and colorful papers in which cherry chocolates are wrapped. Don Prematurio, husband of Doña Desilusia, used to process the marital act in 10 flat seconds. That made the lady desperate, because when he finished she hadn’t even started yet. One night she said to her husband: “Why don’t you wear a racing driver’s suit instead of pajamas?” (Note. I knew the case of an unhappy man who bought an ointment from a merolico on the street, supposedly to delay ejaculation. Unfortunately, when he went to apply it, he confused the pommel of the merolico with the one that contained the cream that his used against calluses. Madam. After smearing it profusely, he read the label. It said: “A few minutes after the application, the affected part will come off by itself.” (Poor man! He only had a little mole left). END.

I do not know who you are. Tell me.
You have something of being and something of not being.
You have something of everything and something of nothing.
You have some of the day and some of the night.
You have something of what happened and something that has not happened yet.
You have some of the shadow and some of the light.
You have some of the ice and some of the fire.
Black and white live in you.
The devil and God live in you.
I have seen you leave the abode of hatred and enter the house where love is born.
Tell me who you are.
And by the way tell me who I am.
Until tomorrow!…

“. The former governor of Sinaloa will go to Spain as ambassador.”
If we take a look
to our Chancellery
we will see that every day
goes embassy, ​​goes embassy.

Leave a Comment