Any joke that you might –pardon the expression– come up with about institutions, such as the army, is useless, because Donald Trump has already executed it. Now that he announces that in the end, no, he will not broadcast the execution show live (a pity, really, we miss out on popcorn and a circus) as he had promised us, we know that last year one of his henchmen “gathered all the high-ranking officers of the army at the Quantico base to warn them that he would restore the «warrior ethos»", we read in ARA. This henchman, who must be a sort of Joaquin Phoenix in Gladiator, accused the soldiers of having “allowed the existence of «fatties» and «bearded ones» in their ranks”. He also announced, watch out, testosterone tests.

The first CIS barometer after the housing protests places the PSOE as the leading force, twelve points above the PP. The socialists would obtain 34% of the votes, while the People's Party members would get 22.2%. Vox isn't having much of a party, if we are to believe the poll, because it goes from 16.6% to 17.1%, but, above all, it sends gusts of wind down the necks of Feijóo's friends.

The President of the Generalitat, Salvador Illa, has scolded Ramon Pellicer for giving a voice to anti-vaxxers on his program Vertex. It is the usual dilemma. Do you give a voice to someone who clearly has a harmful position (from the point of view of coherence)? Do you create a cordon sanitaire for those who demonstrate or are suspected of having anti-democratic or dangerous behaviors or thoughts, or who violate human rights?

Pedro Sánchez, at a rally in Ponferrada, lashed out at the Supreme Court for pressuring him to approve the grandchildren's law. A law that would allow the grandchildren of republican exiles to vote in Spain. Sánchez must think that the majority of these exiles, in Latin American countries, would vote for progressive options. But that is assuming a lot. Among them all there are those who would, of course. And surely there wouldn't be many who would vote for the PP, of course. But there would also be some—I am thinking of the grandchildren of Catalans—who might choose Catalanist options. In any case, the phrase he let slip was this: "Will the grandchildren of the exiles of Francoism not be able to vote, while the grandchildren of the Francoist regime will?"

Pedro Sánchez, in an interview with Eldiario.es, has asked the “lefts” to his left to “please” reach an agreement, and has also said that it is "time for Parliament to look more like the street and not like those who live in penthouses". He wanted to land a little jab at Isabel Díaz Ayuso and her apartment, bought not with “vulture funds” but perhaps with “vulture ends”, but he did not do it well. The lefts will never reach an agreement, because if they reach an agreement it means they have become centrist. Being on the left is, above all, being more left-wing than the others and living to point out those others who are not as left-wing as you. It is like being pro-independence. You cannot reach an agreement, because if you reach an agreement you are no longer pro-independence, you are a federalist, and you live to point out those who are a little less pro-independencethan you.

Writing reviews gives her maximum, superlative excitement, the Empire State of excitement. "Good service, very professional, but a shelf arrived scratched for me," she might write. "Great service and very well treated, but the croquettes were small," she might have written.

Dear young people and not-so-young people who are camping in the squares or who sympathize with those camping there to demand a right that is being denied to you, the right to have a roof over your heads: I would like to tell you something that you may know, but perhaps not, because the world moves very fast, one news story covers up another, and many of you do not read newspapers. My daughter is 18 years old and, like many of you, she will vote for the first time. Like many of you, she will not inherit any apartment (I would have liked for her to inherit one) but she will have a little more luck than others: she will inherit a half-paid mortgage with a reasonable price. She was born in 2007, which I have often explained (I am rambling willingly and consciously) was the year of the Golden Pig: at the Chinese restaurants where I used to go with my pregnant belly, they told me it was a year “of great luck”.

Everything is a housing emergency nowadays, listen. Some tell you they will ensure your apartment isn't occupied; others, that they will ensure you aren't kicked out if you have occupied it; those further away, that you collect the rent; and those at the end, that it doesn't cost you an arm and a leg to pay it. When I hear the word "vulnerable," I already suffer, because let's see if a copper thief isn't vulnerable, depending on how you look at it. And when I hear the word "speculators" too, because it might turn out that you, who want to leave the apartment to your grandchildren, are one.

On Saturday, the trains stopped working as a precaution, between seven in the evening and two in the afternoon the next day. Since the trains run like clockwork and on the day they have to do construction work or there is an incident they treat you like a subject, they ask for your forgiveness, they provide coaches and smile at you, we didn't argue about it. Someone might say it was overzealous, but we are coming from a weekend in which lives have been lost. On Monday, the trains were already running normally, but the alert sounded mid-morning, when we had all dropped off our children and were at our various jobs.

The issue of reserved seats on the train, for pregnant women, the elderly, parents with a baby, or people with mobility difficulties, is not binding. It is recommended that these seats be yielded, but it is not mandatory. I am at a very delicate moment in my life: if they offer me one, I get annoyed; and if they don't, I also get annoyed.

Thanks to my colleague Jordi Mumbrú, I gave a sort of class to journalism students at the Universitat Rovira i Virgili about the genre of the chronicle. In the last row, six guys who have a sports podcast. I look at them, so smiling, and I understand that they must do this genre —I love it— which is peer-to-peer journalism. "We cannot change the world," they tell me. But immediately after, they talk about the Mourinho documentary and criticize its absences and the relevant scenes that do not appear in it. And behold, we all start talking about politics and the code of ethics. All of them have seen La bola negra and there is one, a voracious reader and implacable graphomaniac, who criticizes the film's critics, because "it shows that they haven't read Lorca and, of course, they don't know La bola negra". Next to him, a girl with very lively eyes, the one who is worried about the far-right, asks if a journalist must betray their principles if they work for a media outlet they do not agree with. In silence, I thank her for having asked the question. On the other side, a mischievous and sharp boy shows that humor is a weapon and armor. And next to him, a polished girl, who writes down the names of all the authors I cite, avidly.

The Comuns want to report the Vox councilor in Sabadell, César Gil, "for having made the gesture of a shot to the back of the neck at an advisor of the purple party during the municipal plenary session." Deputy Joan Mena explained on X that he made the gesture (with the index and ring finger together, the thumb straight, and the other two hidden) "when an advisor from Comuns and another from Vox were arguing about the Ceuta crisis." Vox said in a statement that the councilor "responded to the threats" of a Comuns advisor, before which the councilor "pointed to his own nape with his fingers" to ask himself if they would opt to "shoot in the nape like the ETA members."

I read that Ada Colau, former mayor of Barcelona, has had to leave her apartment because she cannot make ends meet. She is separated and has two children.

I cannot help but explain this, so that whoever can may take advantage of it. Last March, a housing decree-law was approved which included, as we all know, the forced extension of rental contracts about to expire for a period of two years, under the same conditions. In April, this measure did not obtain the necessary support in Congress and ceased to be in force, and the government of Spain tried again with a new draft decree-law in July that, ultimately, did not go through due to the blockage by the government of Spain's partners and Junts.

The PSC of Lleida, with Junts, has decreed a ban on the burqa on the city's streets, which is this kind of mummification of adult women. In the photo illustrating the news from ARA we see one of these women, all in black, from top to bottom, like a chrysalis, with a boy and a girl, whose eyes are pixelated to preserve their identity. You cannot help but think that a normal life awaits the boy. For the girl, soon, the entire and eternal pixelation awaits, which will not preserve her identity, but will silence and hide her. We read that they will be fined if they wear them in the street, which in practice will mean they go out less or not at all, of course. ERC, the PSC itself, and the PP are in favor of the ban in the Congress of Deputies, but against the fine and in favor of having them participate in social activities.

Ferran Vital, in our newspaper, offered us an automotive-linguistic news item. The Nissan brand, from Japan, has christened its new electric car as the Nissan Pixo. He himself, in the news, reminded us of all the car names that, in the languages available to us, are either scatological or sexual unintentionally. He mentioned the "Nissan Moco, Mazda Laputa, Opel Cascada, Opel Manta, Ford Corrida or Hyundai Kona". I confess that the latter, the Kona, I do not understand. And I add to the list, of course, the legendary Mitsubishi Pajero, which because of the word was renamed, in Spanish-speaking areas, as Montero. If we look at it from the perspective of Catalan, we must also include the Kia Picantó.

Let me start the story at the end, which is where great stories begin. Later, if you have the patience, readers, we will go to the flash-back. It so happens that at the Congress of Deputies, three restrooms and a dining room had to be sealed off “after someone emptied a spray with a toxic substance in them”. Three floors of the building were evacuated, including the kitchen area. Cooks, waitresses, and a member of the Mauritanian delegation, who happened to be passing by, were intoxicated and had to receive medical assistance.

Donald Trump, who is a gentleman of those who do not want to take medication, and has sudden attacks of impatience, anger and nerves, has banned certain press from the White House, after several media outlets did not behave well. As an act of protest, the main television networks that have not been banned have stopped covering his acts. Now this big gentleman, with the name and posture of a duck, who talks nonsense, is left without bootlickers and, therefore, has set up a YouTube channel where he will satisfy himself.

We read in ARA that the former mayor of Barcelona Ada Colau “has reappeared this Monday as a housing activist at the eviction of a vulnerable neighbor in Barcelona”. It seems the Mossos took her away. Reappear: the verb is used for movie stars.

The pundits, the journalists, some waiters explain it to me, because I have a wonderful magnet for confidences and what young people call a gossip session, the scoop on the Andic case. This case that has a giant popular jury open 24 hours a day. It is all of us and it is all of us who cry out: "Do not ask me for my opinion on whether he is guilty or innocent, ask me what I wish him to be". It is as if we all, all of us wished —because now crimes are all just a joke— that Jonathan Andic killed his father.