Unfriendly succession of versions that the Generalitat gave about the five hours that Carlos Mazón disappeared, between 2:30 p.m. and 7:30 p.m., from the Valencian employers’ association (who denied it in horror, because they had met two hours before: with this brown guy he doesn’t lie to say that he ate with you nor your mother) and again a private meal, that is, he returned to the beginning but with stealth: it turns out that it was a meal near the Generalitat, and at the end, with several towns already flooded and the first ones missing, he went into his office to work on the Budgets completely incommunicado (because if he was in communication, and he kept on giving me the shit with the lighting items, we already have a difficult problem to face). Perhaps this was the worst version of all. Perhaps even a short work lunch would have some excuse, if he then fell exhausted into a nap. But doing Pythagoras-style numbers while the water already reached the knees of its citizens?
This Friday the truth finally came out. The truth is important, no matter how much the usual idiots want to excuse their nonsense with humanitarian aid. The president of the Generalitat knew that there was a red alert in his Community from early in the morning, and it is essential to know his steps that day to know his value in crisis situations and also know if it is appropriate for him to be in command when another catastrophe arrives. At the moment it doesn’t seem very reliable. The truth is, well, arriving very late to the meeting of his emergency team, he had to explain everything again. It was all a lot, mind you: it was all what we are all seeing all the time now.
If this had been the first version, the truth would not be flawed. Now it is, because lies poison everything in such a way that the first thing one thinks when knowing the truth is: why did it have to be hidden? What’s wrong? We already knew that there was political incompetence, which was the only important thing: the company and the motive were the least important. It’s not the citizens who raise their eyebrows when they learn about that long-hour meal with a journalist: it’s Mazón hiding that meal until he can’t take it anymore. If that meal had been with a counselor, with a businessman, with a childhood friend, would you have hidden it? The crisis would have been the same: recess time (everything that was not dana management was recess at those hours) reprehensible. But being an attractive woman (sorry: political correctness is often trampled by life) hiding that food puts her at risk – without a candle at this funeral, a journalist simply listening (or not, who cares) to an offer of work as we have all heard without our meetings being classified secret and provoking different versions—, in an undesirable target fueled by the most sexist comments, whose result is always the same: displacing responsibility.
By the way: (and she said no), this is like when you live with your parents, they break into your house and you leave your room with a joint, who cares about your joint now (in American movies the father He always pouts while they point guns at him and tells the kid “we’ll talk about this”). Another day we opened the melon of several hours of meals to ask you if you want a charge. Shortly after arriving in Madrid, a boss met me at a restaurant, we ate like gods and when we finished he asked me for an interview; Telephones have so many functions that people forget that they are also used for calling. Even being responsible for emergencies, to send alerts.
Yes, we all want to change the past when the future is not what we expected. Nobody calculates how long a meal can take and what is going to happen in the world while you are without coverage or with your cell phone on silent, you are not guilty of not being on call 24 hours a day. But Mazón had been carrying a red light on his back since the morning and, according to him, he was being informed at all times of the problems that the damage was beginning to cause. There were already missing people and flooded towns when the after-dinner meal continued. And not only did he continue with the previous day’s agenda, but he also had the luxury of a meal whose length would only justify the fact that they were making a large-scale motion of censure against him like Rajoy. And it leaves Maribel Vilaplana in the role, for the most damaged heads, of a kind of Helen of Troy through which catastrophes worsen, except that at least Homer told us that and Vito Quiles wants to tell us this.
