The changes that don't change

There are things that don't change. Like the change of time. It doesn't matter that the seasons are distorted by climate change and that we're on the time of Nazi Germany because Franco had to align himself with the prevailing fascism. Let's see who's brave enough to change it. And even less so now that fascism is trending again and there's so much nostalgia for the eagle that if you're very distracted by the world and see all those people with expired flags, you might think they're an environmental group defending an endangered animal. Of course, in Spain, the eagle on the Francoist coat of arms has never fallen into disuse. And if you confuse an environmental group with a fascist one, it means you're more lost in aesthetics than Lamine Yamal's hairstyle. But we were talking about the time. About change. About things that don't change. Like the collateral damage of a war. As if the main damage, which also doesn't change, wasn't enough. Bombs that destroy. Bombs that kill. Bombs to make more bombs. Bombs to send more bombs. Although it's logical that if your goal is to cause harm and the only human life that matters to you is your own, the more harm you do, the better. The extent of harm for an evil person is infinite. The more people suffer to survive, the better. And with this bunch of psychopaths who are constantly measuring their trumpets to see who has the longest, suffering seems assured. For everyone. Because there are things that don't change. Like resolving conflicts by creating new and worse ones. It also doesn't change that you are rewarded for peace after generating a war. Perhaps the newest thing is that since you're not rewarded by those you expected, you're rewarded by some who believe that football promotes peace. I won't be the one to question that. Because anyone can face a hooligan, a synonym for pacifist. I'm just saying that good taste certainly isn't promoted. And since so many people follow them, they could at least have houses that didn't look like a funeral home. Inside and out.

There are things that don't change. And there are questions we ask ourselves year after year. Didn't they say they would stop changing the clocks? And now what, will we sleep one hour more or one hour less? Will two be three? Will eight be seven? How many clocks do we still have that don't change the time automatically? Why does Easter always fall differently? Did Jesus resurrect on Sunday or Monday? What is Second Easter? Where does the Easter bunny come from and why does it hide eggs? Since when does a rabbit lay eggs? Why are there so many eggs for Easter? Why do those from the brotherhoods come out every year to say that tradition dictates women should not participate in some torture or other? Why do women want to participate in such anachronistic traditions? Why do we find it so hard to get rid of traditions even when we don't know where the tradition comes from?

Why, if we are a secular country, is our entire festive calendar full of religious holidays? Why does religion never stop carrying the weight that crushes the world?

There are things that don't change. There are questions we will ask ourselves again next year. Because it's hard to retain so much information. And because we trust that someone will remind us of it all. And if not, we will ask on the internet. Or ChatGPT, which for every query uses a pile of water that we cannot afford. But we also cannot afford to live without answers. Even if we always ask ourselves the same questions. We are creatures of habit. Of traditions. However sexist they may be. There will be a time change. Again. But, in reality, nothing much will change.