Years pass and crises and pandemics and disasters, but even so for a century not a single new number has been presented in any of the three rings of the political circus. That French invention of pitting right against left or vice versa is still alive and kicking, but it's been a long time since it was funny in the face of a respectable man too busy with his own livelihood problems, many of them stemming from the incompetence and blatant mistakes of artists on track. Clowns are scary. The dwarfs grow us. The only beasts that remain are bronze and are left out. No smoking. They've turned off the heat and out ties. The show - now also broadcast on television and streaming - is more sad than anything else.
In view of so much mediocrity and desire to make people dizzy, especially in the insulting social networks, which is where they really talk (sic), suddenly an artist appears on one of the side tracks who pulls a rabbit in the shape of a hat out of a top hat. of a domesticated fascism brought up to date, or something like that. Nothing new under the sun. The applause she receives comes mostly from people of all political persuasions eager to step back from the edge of the cliff and wake up once and for all from the reigning boredom.
Before the debut of Mrs. Meloni, with a couple of melons at the ready, the British had already decided to set up their own circus just for themselves and no one else. But the initial enthusiasm was short-lived. The master of ceremonies turned out to be an unfunny fraud, a ridiculous comedian. Soon all attempts to turn the old issues of life into something new failed, and no matter how hard they tried, they did nothing but offer a pig in a poke to their frightened voters who had also paid admission. And in those the great took the track, the inimitable Liz Truss, disguised as Margaret Thatcher. Tachan!
But this recognized but clumsy drag queen with more ambition than brains, not only lacks political strength, but has no idea how to keep her country's ailing economy out of bankruptcy. A week was enough to sow panic in the markets; 38 days to dismiss the minister -and friend- of her Finances, and only 45 to throw in the towel.
A mother tells the pediatrician that when her son touches his knee it hurts. Solution of a right-wing doctor: then don't touch his knee. They are 130 euros. (Hayek, the Laffer curve). Solution of a left-wing doctor: radiography and time with the thaumaturge (Keynes). This is how they were spent after Maggie's first victory at the polls in 1979, and it remains the same and even increased in the UK after Brexit. And to think that from Felipe González through Tony Blair, Pujol or Artur Mas, his most outstanding disciple, so many have emulated him, almost always with catastrophic consequences for the common good.
David Cameron walked away from the catastrophe that he himself set in motion humming a ditty, while Nigel Farage, the great champion of the invention, was gone. Enter Theresa May, who is now only remembered -if she is remembered- for a phrase and for wearing kitten heels. The phrase is this: "There is no magic money tree"; at least not for the poor, the working class and, increasingly, the middle class, she neglected to add the good lady.
Of course, no one is interested or interested in the clumsy artist's number. The promoters are that trill. A grotesque jester named Boris is brought onto the scene in a desperate attempt to save the furniture. On the track it rains rotten fruit and vegetables imported from the EU but that have been in trucks for weeks waiting for an absurd authorization to circulate that never arrives. Panic spreads in the dilapidated tent. Before the monumental anger of the respectable, a smiling Liz Truss comes out, announcing, after marking a clumsy aborted pirouette, a tax cut destined to make the poor poorer and the rich - alehop! - richer. Terror. Indignation. Disbanded. And she immediately goes to her house without shedding a single tear. And in those the clown Boris, emboldened, threatens to put on his number again, as he did his beloved Churchill, and as Trump learns to do or as Putin did.
"This circus will remain closed until further notice" reads a sign that someone has hung at the entrance of the store, or is it the exit?
