Josep Guardiola marked the ideal doctrine when he said that if we get up early, early and without reproaches, we are an unstoppable country. At seven in the morning, Pablo Tallón opens Aquí Catalunya (Ser) with the energy of an unstoppable day and includes a comment by Magí Camps about the first vestiges (he wrote about it in La Vanguardia yesterday) of Catalan. The night before, President Pere Aragonès had also vindicated Catalan with some good words laden with the laxity that perpetuates the gulf between reality and propaganda.
The message of Aragonès will not go down in history, despite the fact that the illuminators made an effort to frame the president in a suggestive plan. On the left, a carnivorous deer about to devour him. And at the back of the gallery, a door illuminated with promising warmth. It's the kind of lighting you celebrate when, early in the morning, you're looking for the last open bar to have your penultimate drink and catch a glimpse of a light that suggests hospitable waiters and a happily vicious parish. Set to look for scenographic stimuli to compensate for the rigidity of the president – trapped by shirt collars that burdened him beyond his capabilities – they should have included shadows of people celebrating something.
Very early on, Carlos Herrera (Cope) says: "We have gone from a sad day to a full day thanks to Sánchez". Carlos Alsina (Onda Cero), on the other hand, describes the demands of Carles Puigdemont as the causes of the "courtship of ," which forces the interlocutor to play the ball. Catalunya Ràdio and RAC1 are preparing for a day of exhaustive monitoring of the Diada, knowing that Guardiola's patriotic dream of acting without reproach is, for now, a utopia. In fact, the industry of reproach keeps alive the Cainite dimension of independence (and, by extension, of the day). Some reproaches that begin with the parades of offerings at the monument of Rafael Casanova, which TV3 broadcasts intermittently from eight o'clock while the Reapers is played, in non-stop format.
In El matí de Catalunya Ràdio, Ricard Ustrell greets the audience with a "Good day and long live Catalonia!". The greeting contrasts with the dramatic news of the day: four young people (aged 19 to 22) hit by a train in Montmeló and, obviously, the earthquake in Morocco. In La Sexta, Alfons Arús, who would be an example of an unstoppable Catalan who has survived successive waves of patriotic correction, does not give up a touch of humor to comment on the news. Superimpose the images of the (absent) king of Morocco with those of playwright Fernando Arrabal. "The king looks like Arrabal", he says. It makes me think of Arrabal's obsession with chess and one of his phrases: "In chess, the important thing is neither the king nor the queen, but the pawns".
