1. Juanma Moreno Bonilla said he did not want to repeat as president of Andalusia if Vox had to be in the government. In the end, like so many other autonomous communities where the Popular Party won but fell short, Andalusia will also have a coalition government of the right with the far-right. Moreno Bonilla, against his better judgment, has swallowed his principles and had to give in. He has ended up accepting Abascal's positions and now has a vice-president from Vox in his government who corrects him before the investiture. “And what you'll get, my dear”, as they would say in Seville, in another popular expression that must already be close to some red flag.

1. Nobody should read what Zapatero and his secretary said to each other on WhatsApp. Nobody should know how Koldo paid for Ábalos's sexual services. Nobody should have looked at the message in which Rajoy told Bárcenas “aguanta, Luis”. Nobody should have heard Minister Fernández Díaz assuring the director of Antifrau the “esto te lo afina la Fiscalía”. Nobody should have heard what Victoria Álvarez and Alícia Sánchez-Camacho were plotting at La Camarga. Nobody was supposed to do anything, in operation Volhov, whether Puigdemont believed or not that 10,000 Russian soldiers would come to help us in the grave hours. Nobody could suspect that Cospedal would order an investigation into whatever about Junqueras's brother. Nobody should have seen the trap video of Exuperancia Rapú with Pedro Jota. Nobody should have heard how Florentino Pérez belittled Mourinho in a conversation from years ago. Nobody had the right to read what Rubiales and Piqué said to each other in the Arab concession of the Super Cup. Nobody has anything to say about the venereal diseases that Bill Gates hid from his wife. Nobody had to know the criteria for granting positions according to Lluís Salvadó. Nobody should have seen Estefania de Monaco making love by the pool. Nobody needed to know that Zapatero – Zapatero again – confessed to Oriol Mitjà that Minister Illa was failing in managing the pandemic. Nobody should listen to Jonathan Andic's call to 112 to warn that his father had fallen off a cliff. Nobody should know what the Andic family and the alleged therapist said to each other, especially now that we have learned that she was not even registered as a psychologist but, on the other hand, she was dedicated to emotionally tidying up the lives of various rich people in the country, in exchange for an arm and a leg.

1. Next Sunday, on Saint Peter's Eve, it will be seven months since the first wild boar infected with African swine fever was detected. Since then, 344 out of 7,354 analyzed wild boars have tested positive. Or, to put it the other way around, there are 7,010 animals captured in the risk zone that have tested negative and were roaming so contentedly. In the last week, specifically, the Department of Agriculture has confirmed two new cases of African swine fever in the area that already encompasses nineteen municipalities and the access roads to Collserola Natural Park. One of these two infected boars was roaming near Sant Just Desvern, the other was living in Castellbisbal. Given that samples from 569 wild boars have been analyzed in one week, that only two have tested positive means that the number of infected animals is 0.4% of the boars.

1. In an apartment near Wimbledon Park, The Buggles recorded their great musical hit. Video killed the radio star was much more than a prophecy. The song, from 1978, stated that video had already killed the radio star. Little did we know, nearly fifty years later, we know it was a flawed diagnosis. Generalist radio leaders continue to gain listeners while, on the other hand, it's been decades since we've sung our last rites for VHS tapes and for the devices that took up half our living room furniture. Radio, therefore, has not been killed by anyone. Books, either. Not small screens, not big screens, nor audiovisual platforms with infinite catalogs offering eye candy. Radio and books have resisted. But what about newspapers? Will someone kill them?

1. Real Madrid has had a blank season in football. And in basketball. And in women's football. One hundred percent failures. Not a single title for the club with the best record in history. Faced with Flick's Barça's successes, a large smokescreen was needed, and Florentino Pérez invented express elections so that Madridism would have a democratic appearance. He has won them overwhelmingly. No surprise. Now he will be able to do what he wanted: sell 5% –or 10%– of the club's ownership to generate close to the billion euros that Madrid urgently needs. The cost overrun of the works on the Bernabéu stadium – the mess has not only been architectural – forces them to generate income from wherever, even if it means that the members will no longer be the owners of the entire club.

1. It had been so long since I had seen it – so very long – that I decided to dedicate the first column of June to it. As a street-gazer and a regular walker, I can attest that a phenomenon like the one I am about to recount may not have been seen for years. The event that struck me, and which I saw from a mere ten meters away, happened last week. It was half past eight in the evening on a May afternoon. However, on the Passeig de Pere III in Manresa, the heat felt stolen from mid-July. I was leaving an event at the Centre Cultural El Casino, organized by the College of Journalists, all alone and was strolling casually towards the car park. The street was lively, with people coming and going, even though the works on Guimerà made walking difficult and covered everything in dust. At the ice cream parlors, long queues of families were looking for a cone. All the terraces in the center were packed to the brim, eager to taste the first sorbet of the season. The plane trees, witnesses that have been there since the 19th century, presided over the walks of those who, after work, were in no hurry to go home. And it was at that moment, right there, in front of the modernist Casino Central, so symmetrical and French-looking, that I saw it. Without meaning to, I stumbled upon it right in front of me.

1. On Saturday night, the sporting drama culminated. Girona drew at home with Elche and was relegated to the Second Division. If Lemar's shot against the post had gone in, the big party in Plaça del Vi would have lasted two days. But when football really hangs by a thread, it's a sign that things haven't been done well. This bad run at the end of the season (no wins in the last eight games, 4 points out of a possible 24) has been practically symmetrical to a start of the season with continuous stumbles. The condemnation has been the meager 41 points achieved. A year ago, also with 41 points, Girona managed to save themselves by playing with fire. On this occasion, there has been no luck, and the fans, at the end of the match, pointed to the stands and oscillated between expressions of condolence and criticism of the players. 

1. Fourteen years have passed since the initial complaint by Victoria Álvarez. Twelve have passed since Jordi Pujol's confession of grandfather Florenci's inheritance and the fortune hidden abroad. After more than a decade of police investigation and judicial proceedings, after six months of trial and two hundred witnesses at the National Court, not a single piece of evidence has been provided to prove the enrichment through corruption of Jordi Pujol and the seven children accused in the case. Not one. Now that the trial has ended, with the former president exonerated from the case due to his iron poor health, we must await the sentence to know if each of the seven children and the nine businessmen are guilty of anything.

1. Due to a very serious police error, with anti-democratic tics, Salvador Illa has been caught between a rock and a hard place with USTEC. At the end of a heated school year, with seventeen days of strike called ahead —starting with this Tuesday's—, the Government has lost negotiating power with the majority teachers' union. The decision by the General Directorate of Information of the Mossos d'Esquadra to infiltrate two plainclothes agents into a teachers' assembly to supposedly conduct a risk assessment in the face of a labor dispute has backfired. The act of sneaking disguised police officers into a union meeting is characteristic of a fascist state, even if the Catalan police —but no less police for that— maintain that they were acting "within current legislation". They can say whatever they want. Furthermore, the fact that the two policewomen were caught just minutes into the meeting and couldn't even say which school they worked at reveals a level of preparation for the spy squad more suited to a comic book than a professional force. It's too serious not to hold people accountable.

1. Waterloo Place is a place where nothing ever happens. The gentlemen's clubs in the Pall Mall buildings turn the stroll under London's stately arcades into a diorama frozen in another era. Suddenly, however, this beautiful corner of Westminster has experienced an artistic jolt that is also a pertinent political critique of global reach. Banksy has placed one of his works which, instead of being a usual wall painting, is a sculpture with volume, with relief, and with a lot of depth. A man, in a tailored suit, blinded by his own flag, walks without realizing he will fall from the pedestal. The work is the perfect metaphor for the extreme right of national priorities which, with America for Americans, Spain for Spaniards, and so on, heads straight for a leap into the void. Wrapped up in nationalist causes, with eyes covered by hatred and selfishness, it leads us all towards the precipice. A small step for a fascist, but a step with nefarious consequences for humanity.

1. Barça will win La Liga. It is only a matter of weeks. Perhaps, days. In fact, they could already be champions next Sunday. All they need is for Flick's team to win on Saturday in Pamplona and for Real Madrid not to win on Sunday at Espanyol's ground, and the twenty-ninth league title will be official. It would be ironic if, without playing, Barça won it because an Espanyol team desperate for points ended up gifting them the title. Everyone looks out for themselves, but in football – as in life – there are amusing paradoxes. Whatever the moment Barça is proclaimed champion, fans must refrain from going to Canaletes. Forbidden. The upper part of La Rambla is under construction, the emblematic fountain is covered, and, around it, temporary fences would be a dangerous trap for the thousands of Barça fans who would want to gather there. Barça and the City Council —“of the city that bears our club’s name”— should inform Barça fans this very Monday that La Rambla is waterlogged and should explain where the title will be massively celebrated when the moment arrives. 

1. Sant Jordi has not yet arrived, and the Liceu has already closed its dance season. The four shows this year have received applause and good reviews but, as taste is subjective, they have fallen short of expectations at the time of subscribing. They are good shows –of course– but they haven't stirred our souls in the slightest. They haven't even moved us. I admit that I arrived in a bad mood for the last performance, Nijinsky's. Given that the performance –two and a half hours long– started at half past seven, we decided to grab a bite near the Liceu before the show. The idea, initially, was for a quick, stand-up sandwich. We were looking for a clean, decent place that wasn't a rip-off. After all, with a Rambla under construction that made it difficult to pass, we thought that the pre-prepared trays we saw from the street –labeled in the establishment as "montaditos" and "tapas"– would be a decent option for a two-bite meal. When we entered, they were already surprised that we were locals. Before we sat down, seeing that they weren't going to rip us off, they warned us that we could only pay with bills there. What a surprise! We left with a nagging suspicion and looked for another option.

1. In February, the Goya Awards for Spanish cinema were presented in Barcelona. In March, Cornellà hosted a Spain-Egypt football match that went around the world because of the massive chant of “Muslim, he who doesn't jump”. In April, on the eve of Sant Jordi, AENA invents a literary prize for published works with one million euros for the winner. Maurici Lucena's intention is to re-stitch Ibero-American literature through a literary air bridge, a prize that excludes novels written in Catalan, Basque, or Galician if they are not translated into Spanish. Shall we continue? What are they preparing for May? The agenda for the Hispanization of Catalonia seems set and strategically prepared. It is, almost, a post-war plan, made with more subtlety and elegance because with culture and leisure, everything goes down better. After severing the Procés, after beheading its leaders, and once they have the troops demoralized, enraged, or resigned, the plan to dilute residual independentism is systematic.

1. While here we are eating the 'mona' cake, in Madrid they are working. The third term of the school year begins with one of those news items that will have repercussions. This Monday, the trial for Operation Kitchen begins at the National Court. The case will once again place the Popular Party at the epicenter of the mire. And this is not just a case of corruption. It is much more than that. It is being investigated whether the party in power used the State to cover up its own corruption. The indications seem clear, but justice, in Spain, can always come out with a broken candle.

1. Life goes on and we normalize everything, with trained resignation. Waiting lists, the difficulty of having decent housing, inflation that threatens to skyrocket, or the resistance of Catalan are the worries of a day-to-day life that we face stoically and, perhaps, with excessive understanding. For others – beyond the traffic jams on the AP-7 for the outgoing or return operation – the big concern seems to be Raphinha's umpteenth muscle injury. They talk about it on the radio as much or more than about Trump and Iran. To escape our accepted miseries, wars, destruction, and death, in Ukraine or East Asia, people need to laugh. I notice it at the Condal Theatre. They are performing A Brilliant Idea, the most awarded comedy in France. The adaptation to Catalan by Susanna Garachana is accurate, rigorous, and extremely fine-tuned. The protagonist, Lluís Villanueva, can already make space to collect all the acting awards for a production that forces him into exhausting meticulousness. An hour and a half of laughter. People leave it better than they entered.

1. La Trinca was very generous to the Besòs River when, taking advantage of the well-known waltz by Johann Strauss Jr., they wrote the lyrics for their song. The Blue DanubeIn 1975, he said that "the Besòs is green." And that was a gross understatement. Back then, it was one of the most polluted rivers in Europe. There was no life, practically no fish. Toxic foam was visible, and the stench was overwhelming for many days of the year. The lack of environmental regulations during the Franco regime and the scarcity of effective legislation meant that pollution went almost unpunished. Uncontrolled industrialization in the river basin, in the Vallès region and the Barcelona area, turned the river into a dumping ground with virtually no treatment. As a result, textile, chemical, and metallurgical companies contaminated the water with heavy metals and a whole host of toxic products. And it wasn't a crime. And there was no awareness of the damage being done to nature and the landscape. Furthermore, urban wastewater—in a time when towns and cities lacked treatment plants—turned some stretches of the Besòs into an open sewer. We can add that it was a river with a low natural flow, where pollutants became highly concentrated, and that aggressive urbanization along the riverbank gradually devoured the native vegetation. For all these reasons, the Besòs was the shame of Barcelona's northern border.

1. On Saturday night, at the MNAC, We celebrate the Night of Catalan LiteratureIt's been 75 years since three hundred brave souls locked themselves inside the Catalonia bookstore to celebrate a clandestine literary festival. Here's a historical fact, from 1951, to remind us that the Catalan language, culture, and freedom have weathered far worse times, and we've persevered. For those of us who are nostalgic by nature, the tradition of Saint Lucy's Night was already quite fitting. Just before Christmas, the most prestigious literary prizes were announced, and a couple of months later, the books went on sale. It was a very guild-like celebration, for the guild. Now it's different. Even those of us who, on Saturday, looked askance at this new festival invented by Òmnium, the Institut d'Estudis Catalans, and TV3, should tip our hats. As Xavier Antich said, never before in history has such a powerful communicative act about Catalan literature been broadcast. Our literature needs to shed its inferiority complex and embrace ambition, joy, and self-respect. If the world of books is the spearhead of our cultural industry, it was about time that was reflected in prime time. In this respect, and although everything can be improved, Saturday's event achieved its goal.

1. If today is Monday, March 9th, it means there's one year left until International Women's Day. I wonder how we'll get there in 2027 if, locally or globally, we continue to take so many steps backward at such a rapid pace. Equality—if it is true equality, it must be without nuances or footnotes—still seemed a long way off, and suddenly, regression is more than just a palpable threat. It's a stark, bitter, and daily realization that the gains we've made are in danger. The far-right wave sweeping the world and the fundamentalism common in religions rooted centuries ago are striving to subjugate women once again to limits that seemed to have been overcome. Irrelevance, dependence, complementarity transformed into inferiority, being told "don't say much" and "you have an opinion, but not much" are the new social condemnations. This is what Katherine Graham, the editor of the Washington PostWhen her husband made her feel, at all times, like she was the tail of a star. The nucleus of the comet that shone, of course, was him. Always him and only him.

1. He wanted the Nobel Peace Prize and created the War Department. It was a contradiction that should have given us clues not only about the intentions of the most powerful man in the world but also about the flaws in his intellectual capacity. When he changed the name of the Department of Defense in September, we already suspected that Donald Trump would go on the offensive. And he came close. In January, US military forces entered Venezuela, captured President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, and transferred them to a US prison. In February, the raid by US troops, in alliance with Israel, killed Iran's Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei. Between Operation Absolute Resolve in Venezuela and Operation Epic Fury in Iran, the death toll is in the hundreds. For now. The consequences of the attack on Tehran are impossible to predict. According to the Financial TimesThis decision by Trump is "the most fateful of his presidency."

1. Every February 23rd, we remember that the trio of Tejero, Armada, and Milans del Bosch attempted a military coup in Spain. The assault on Congress lasted less than 24 hours and brought an end to the "cowards." But the army and the Civil Guard had tried to reverse, through the intimidation of arms, the nascent democracy that was beginning to emerge in Spain. From 1981 to 2026, we've seen it all, but 45 years later, the uniforms, the medals, and the peaked caps still think they are above good and evil. It's not enough for them to flaunt their pathological supremacism with an offensive self-importance. Like the stars they wear on their lapels, they display a moral superiority anchored in outdated values ​​from another century, or from another regime they seem to yearn for. Do high-ranking police officers in Spain believe they are untouchable because they have turned the old question of who watches the watchmen into mere rhetoric?