Easter passes and everything remains the same: Arturo Pérez-Reverte has been on X since February 2010 and continues without granting a single like. One could present other evidence of this immutability and say that Netanyahu continues to destroy everything except Hamas (other “saints”…). But apparently it is not right to accuse him... and the desire to get into trouble is inferior to that of escaping on the networks with the first futile reminder. So holy Easter to the evils.
We have left Holy Week behind and to top it all off, everything remains the same, April is just beginning so that the Manel's Night Freda Per Ser Abril, and the video of Elena Furiase breaking the box with the “April- cerral". And in less than twenty days, the noise of the never sent letter from the short Celtic dated the 20th of 90.
But there are green shoots of agitating humor. “My grandfather was born on the Day of the Dead 89 years ago. Today, the day of Resurrection, he has died. He was like that, a fucking machine,” says @nefer_trix. And there is news. A party decides that the best day to announce the signing of a well-known TV3 meteorologist is, through Instagram, an afternoon on Easter Sunday.
Tomàs Molina foresees the weather, but not the networks and dares to ask in two tweets what we think of his jump into politics. The “botiflers” fly at him. Blessed innocence, yours, in the face of the presumption of all those politicians who during the electoral period make it even more evident that they believe that modesty is an indoor plant.
However, the star these days is @el_floriano and the responses to his tweet. Attach an image of some lentils. Some float, others don't. Because? “Only a few learn to swim. They are part of a select squad of elite vegetables trained by the cart driver, lord of the asparagus.” “Those that float produce flatulence,” says someone. They correct it: “Floatences.” More: “Those that do not float have iron.” And it continues. The thread is priceless.
Holy Week is over. On Monday in Valencia. All activity resumes on Tuesday. The judge archives the investigations into Mónica Oltra. The media that contributed to distorting her reality by pointing it out and filling the covers remain silent. It is the ABC of journalism, what is demanded of the world, what is asked of reason: rectification. Without subterfuge or removing iron. There's no more. They are lentils.
Meanwhile, Oltra's former chief of staff, @miquelreal, today has a special meaning in the lyrics "it's a cold night because it's April / there's nowhere like home". "Thank you, @ElsManel: it's April and, despite the cold, spring is beginning to bloom," he writes.
