On Tuesday, on Telenotícies vespre, we were informed of the creation of the office for the protection of linguistic rights by the government of the Generalitat. It is born with the intention of accompanying people who wish to file complaints regarding possible violations in the use of the language. This was communicated by Salvador Illa at the event celebrating the first anniversary of the National Pact for Language, where the Minister of Linguistic Policy, Francesc Xavier Vila, admitted that there was still work to be done. And he is right. The same day, during the very long commercial break of El petit peó, the Sense ficció dedicated to Arturito Pomar, we thought about this news. We swallowed ten minutes of ads: a total of twenty-five spots and four self-promotions from the channel. During this commercial break, three ads in Spanish appeared, which, coincidentally or not, were broadcast consecutively. The first was an advertisement for Gillette razor blades designed for female users. Lo and behold, the presenter was the influencer Laura Escanes, who told us that “Hay días que necesito tiempo para mí” and that “el mango pivotante me deja la piel suave incluso en zonas difíciles”. Taking into account that the content creator is part of the channel's roster of signings, it is strange to see her on the same television for which she works addressing the audience in Spanish. Of course, it is not her fault but that of the commercial department, which should take into account this type of contradiction. In the same commercial break, we saw an advertisement for adhesive silicones where the veteran journalist Pedro Piqueras spoke in Catalan with an expert on this product. The other ad in Spanish was for Michelin. If other international brands like Bimbo, Ikea, Carrefour, and Verisure are interested in advertising on TV3 in Catalan (and this is what happened during this long break), surely the very famous tire brand could also do so. Considering the number of Catalan chefs awarded stars by their guide, they know perfectly well that Catalonia has its own cultural identity and language. The other ad in Spanish was, lo and behold, from the Ministry of Social Rights, Consumer Affairs and the 2030 Agenda. A spot narrated in Spanish and subtitled in Catalan. Thanks for the detail. But it is outrageous that an advertisement from a ministry of Spain is not recorded in the different co-official languages of the State. Take note, Councillor Vila. It is unheard of that the Spanish government uses Catalan public television to communicate with citizens in a language that is not the channel's own, because this reinforces the idea that in the institutional sphere, Spanish is the universal main language and Catalan, in subtitles, is of an inferior rank. Normalizing exceptions makes the duty to advertise in Catalan on TV3 lose its meaning. If some companies don't do it, why should others? It deactivates the possibility of applying a criterion and turns it into an inconsistency. And inconsistency affects the legitimacy of any future demand. 

The images of the jewels that the UDEF found inside Zapatero's safe stimulated the humorous audacity of Spanish morning magazines and news programs. Nothing like excess and surprise in the midst of the tedium of judicial cases for television stars to exhibit their wit. The photographs of exuberant pieces encrusted with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, captured under the coldness of police camera flashes, activated the creativity of screenwriters. Susanna Griso, on Espejo público, was the least sharp: “If this were a thriller, we could title it The Treasure of Zapatero”. She could also have made more of an effort when evaluating all those samples, which she limited herself to considering “worthy of an empress”. In the ranking of journalistic ploys, Griso was rather bland. The presenter moves better in the realm of speculation, which is where she makes a difference with subtle insinuations. When she interviewed the general secretary of the Guild of Jewelers of Madrid, she asked him if, judging by the design of those pieces, he could deduce whether they had been manufactured in the United Arab Emirates or could come from a wealthy family from Latin America. The presenter's journalistic nose shines like a Swarovski in a shop window. On Antena 3 noticias, Sandra Golpe opened the news report with images of jewelry accompanied by the soundtrack of the film Breakfast at Tiffany's. Classics never fail. And she finished by recalling a quote from a Zapatero rally: "Being a socialist means having very little and being willing to give a lot". In the morning calculator game, Golpe found an appraiser who estimated the total value of the treasure at ten million euros.But the award for the most corrosive analyst of the day went to Ana Rosa Quintana, who has become a revelation comedian. A raw diamond of stand-up comedy. Her morning monologues are vitamins against indifference. “From the rose to the Rolex”, she stated as soon as the program began, appealing to the socialist symbol. “Legend has it that when the archaeologist Howard Carter discovered Tutankhamun's tomb, he was not as surprised as the UDEF agents when they opened Zapatero's safe”. She imagined how they were dazzled by that “treasure worthy of the Count of Monte Cristo”. Quintana poked the wound: “It turns out that the workers' struggle was a Cartier catalog”, she concluded with sarcasm worthy of a reactionary rapper. The presenter did some prospecting, looking for archive images of Sonsoles Espinosa to see what kind of trinkets she used to wear: “Most of it was costume jewelry, which fits her style very well”, Quintana blurted out in an exhibition of subliminal cruelty typical of a meeting of the nouveau riche.The splendor of jewelry sharpens cunning. Breakfast with diamonds and laundry with sapphires. While awaiting the experts' verdict on the purity of all the gemstones, we will always have the pearls of the morning stars.

In 1974, journalist Mercedes Milá presented Polideportivo on TVE. Fifty-two years have passed since then, and she has now just premiered, on the same public television, Me meto en un jardín (La 2), an interview program that the channel has dubbed a road movie. Milá travels in a motorhome with her guests and takes them to famous gardens across Spain, seeking an environment that fosters a relaxed and intimate conversation. The series began with the writer David Uclés, and after visiting him in his hometown of Quesada, in Jaén, and meeting his family, they head to the Torre del Vinagre botanical garden, in the Sierra de Cazorla. The program will be more or less successful depending on the guest. And David Uclés was probably not the best choice to kick off the season. The lessons about the Civil War, almost as if he had lived through it, ended up causing a certain repetitive tedium.

Garden gnomes have returned to the Chelsea Flower Show, the great international temple of landscaping that has been held annually in London since 1913. This week, a collection of gnomes painted by a select group of celebrities, with the complicity of King Charles III, who plays a very active role in this prestigious floral festival, has been auctioned for charitable purposes. It had been almost a hundred years since gnomes were expelled from the competition. In 1927, the organization considered them incompatible with the distinction of the show. They were a tacky trinket that did not deserve to be part of the floral paradise associated with the British aristocracy. Footballer David Beckham, horticulturist Frances Tophill, and former BBC presenter Alan Tichmarsh have designed the garden with the monarch to reconcile with the little ceramic visitors.

Since Tuesday, Spanish media have been investing multiple hours in the details of the indictment of former president José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero for crimes of criminal organization, influence peddling, and document forgery. The Plus Ultra case, already dubbed the Zapatero case by many media outlets, confirms how Spanish private television channels are participating in an operation to wear down the government of Sánchez that goes beyond the duty to inform.One of the most furious examples is that of Horizonte,, by Iker Jiménez, on Cuatro, where for days the program has been dedicated exclusively to this topic. It is the optimal place to observe the entire anthill at the service of the ultraconservative movement in Spain. The guests at the reflection table use the strategy of the fat stack, and collapse the viewer through simple saturation of details. It is impossible to follow the thread. Jiménez and company talk about multiple protagonists, citing them only by their first name as if the audience knew them perfectly well. They refer to supposed details of Zapatero's network, to conversations and messages that it is impossible to know what they are about. Clarity is not sought, but rather to construct an incomprehensible noise that brings out an unprecedented level of corruption and gravity. It is a metaphor for the white fog they throw onto the set to increase the atmosphere of mystery. “This afternoon we were all overcome with shock, one more, regarding the situation that is hypnotizing the audience. It has never happened before and it is important”. They referred to the news of the blocking of Zapatero's bank accounts and the supposed increase in audience that the case has generated for them. Hypnotizing the audience perfectly fits this will to stun through collapse. “This thriller that Spanish politics has become surpasses any issue”. Inda and company denounced preferential treatment by the justice system towards Zapatero and especially towards his daughters.Curiously, in Horizonte they have as a participant a “journalist” (so they say) presented with the role of spokesperson for Víctor de Aldama, the commissioner indicted in the Koldo case and in other judicial proceedings affecting the PSOE government. The role of this collaborator is absolutely murky because as the discussion develops, he reads mobile phone messages that Aldama sends him while watching the program. On Saturday at noon, Antena 3 Noticias echoed the March for Dignity organized by Sociedad Civil Española, with the support of the PP and Vox. The images also showed very disturbing symbolism in the clothing of some participants. What they didn't say on Antena 3 (but did specify on Telecinco) is that Victor de Aldama was also at the forefront, protected by members of Desokupa. Aldama was cheered by the protesters. A grotesque situation. A demonstration against the alleged corruption of the government followed by someone indicted in these plots. Of all this, more things escape us than are explained to us.

On Thursday night, the The late show on CBS closed its doors. Stephen Colbert is already on vacation, and a historic era of television late night is considered to be over.The presenter began by explaining that they wanted to have a normal broadcast, without solemnity or self-congratulation. He appealed to one of the founding principles: to consider the program a joy machine, a machine of joy based on what they have called a "reciprocal emotional relationship," defending a bond with the audience that fed back into the show. The result, therefore, was more emotional and symbolic than combative. Despite clear evidence that political pressures have ruined the program, Colbert avoided caustic comments against Donald Trump. And they were missed. After all the analytical capacity the program has shown, of the ideological substrate it has managed with such intelligence, the ending was steeped in an insubstantial and soft spirit. The aim was to enhance the friendly and festive tone without bitterness. But the last program did not do justice to its capacity for influence and, above all, to its critical and demanding spirit. More biting wit and less foolishness were expected.Paul McCartney was the main guest. The choice also had an allegorical meaning: the Beatles debuted on The Ed Sullivan show 62 years ago. The show, however, was full of fleeting appearances by good friends of Colbert: Brian Cranston, Paul Rudd, Ryan Reynolds, Elijah Wood... And, of course, his professional colleagues: Fallon, Kimmel, Meyers and Oliver. And a Jon Stewart who was in charge of giving him the farewell. All this shows that the nocturnal television universe is eminently masculine, and that they all do things among themselves and laugh at each other's jokes.Colbert sang Hello, goodbye with McCartney: "You say «goodbye», I say «hello» / You say «stop» but I say «go»" are verses that refer to this struggle of opposites, but also to this beginning of a new stage. The lyrics allow for multiple interpretive readings.Colbert opted for a symbolic ending. An enormous luminous hole leading to a parallel dimension threatened the presenter. Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse explained to the protagonist that the cancellation of his show was causing a kind of cosmic anomaly. When McCartney disconnected the electrical panel, that energetic void sucked up Colbert and the entire building. An indisputable metaphor. The late show ended up reduced to a small snow globe in the middle of the street, sniffed by a dog, as if the television universe were collapsing and being reduced to a kitsch, not very useful object. A simple souvenir from New York. Just a memory. As if the cancellation of the show were also the closing of a media culture, the end of an era for a certain mainstream television that is disappearing and being reduced to a charming relic of the past.

On Tuesday evening, Pablo Motos interviewed footballer Marcos Llorente, who is promoting his book on health. It is a publication with a zen aesthetic, as if it were a select edition by a famous artist. Llorente, beyond being an effective soldier for Simeone at Atlètic de Madrid, has become famous for his extravagant theories about the functioning of the human body and well-being. He promotes glasses with yellow and red lenses for stories about melatonin that the scientific community has rejected. The player gave a pair of glasses to the presenter and the plush ants to spread their use. Motos prodded the footballer to repeat his theories about sun exposure, even though he knew they had provoked the indignation of oncologists and dermatologists. Llorente advised against the use of sunscreens because he claimed that the sun does not harm the skin. He stated that it had not been proven that sun exposure over the years could cause cancer. The argument was delirious: “¿And how do they measure this?”, he asked. And he insisted that it was impossible to know if a skin cancer was a result of the sun or any other unhealthy habit. Obviously, Pablo Motos did not know how to refute him, because he does not have the knowledge to do so and had not even prepared himself. Therefore, in prime time and for a family audience, a leading program once again gave space and voice to a denier with esoteric theses, selling them as healthy advice.Llorente is perceived, by a large part of the spectators, as an aspirational and authoritative figure. It is pathetic, but it is so. Successful characters with great purchasing power who consider themselves references or examples to follow. Television often plays at the equidistant farce of “all opinions are respectable”, but some are not because they attack public health. On scientific matters, not all opinions are respectable. The approach of “it cannot be proven” or “how do they know?” in a context without any expert is a trap. It serves the charlatan to feign rational skepticism, a kind of critical thinking, when in reality he takes advantage of the absence of authority to sow doubt without having to provide any proof. He uses doubt to discredit medical evidence when there is no one in front of him who can explain it from science. On the other hand, no one asks Llorente to be the one to prove his theories. He is content to defend them with arrogance, giving wellness advice for the rich with idle lives: “You have to expose yourself to the sun progressively from dawn”, says the clever one.Audiovisual media reward dissent because it generates virality, controversy, and so-called engagement. This is why this worrying obsession with giving space to deniers. For Motos, sun exposure and creams are of no importance. He wants the digital world to highlight the nonsense the next day, without considering that it is of great social irresponsibility. In any case, in private, Llorente and all those who flatter him can roast themselves in the sun as much as they want. On with their convictions.

On Tuesday, Sense ficció revealed the inner workings of Sopa de Cabra, one of the essential and most successful bands in Catalan rock. Sopa de Cabra, tornar enrere played with the title of one of their songs to revisit the past. The circular structure of the story was a success. The camera, positioned at the top of the stage at the final moment of a concert, follows the musicians to the dressing room, where we witness a conflict. Josep Thió sends everyone away to scold his bandmates in private. A start that anticipates an unusual story, unknown to many of their followers. The documentary interviews each of the group's members separately. A frontal close-up against a neutral background that almost conveys the feeling of an interrogation in which the editing scrutinizes the coincidences in their responses. “Sopa de Cabra has never been a group of friends.” They all agree with this idea, and the viewer will have the opportunity to verify it. Many documentaries that delve into the lives of great rock or pop bands, or music legends, have a certain epic quality, even if there may be episodes of excess and misery. This production, on the other hand, breaks with the usual codes: it recovers archive footage of concerts and interviews, and explains the evolution, crises, and contradictions. It also knows how to activate the nostalgia of the group's followers, and contributes to reordering memories linked to the songs and concerts. But there is no epic. And precisely that is what makes it singular and memorable. Sopa de cabra, tornar enrere emanates a serene sadness, a latent pain that the protagonists have accepted and to which they now seem accustomed. Quintana and company, stars of Catalan rock, present themselves before the camera as anti-heroes and present an intimate narrative that conveys weariness. There is a disillusionment with their own history. The documentary has the virtue of sincerity. The members of Sopa speak with the honesty that comes from the distance of events. They don't need imposture, because now they have nothing to lose. They refer to "the truth we have built together". They seem like victims of the tyranny of their own success, forced to maintain the bond to earn a living, because what they shared worked and was liked. The documentary's strategy of bringing the group together for a meal and observing the relationship dynamics is magnificent, as the discomforts and tensions become evident. The preparation of a recipe becomes a metaphor for the delicate balance of coexistence. The documentary works very well with this sense of strangeness, of constant unease, a drama that rises in intensity and is difficult to understand. And the final twist that explains it is even liberating for the viewer. We understand that uncomfortable conflict that has opened the story. The circle is closed. And it serves as solace.

The arrest of Jonathan Andic, accused of his father's death, captured the attention of televisions on Tuesday morning, especially from the moment he arrived at the Martorell courts. With permission, of course, of the news about Zapatero's imputation: Spanish media were full of it, doing very exhaustive live specials, with little time to report on anything else. Sara Loscos, on Tot es mou, spoke of "the image of the day and beyond". Without a doubt, it was. All the news programs used it, specifying that the detainee was handcuffed and, in some cases, repeating the scene on several occasions. On Informativos Telecinco they replayed the accused's journey with the mossos entering and leaving the courts up to six times. They specified that Andic was cabizbajo y esposado (head down and handcuffed), to emphasize the image. The snapshot also served to illustrate the news on studio screens and reference the story. The detainee's social status in this context was the morbid element. There were headlines that served to add sensationalism and drama to the case. On Mañaneros on La 1, they asked on a screen caption: ¿Mató a su padre por la fortuna de Mango? (Did he kill his father for Mango's fortune?), and on Informativos Telecinco they announced it as La herencia envenenada (The poisoned inheritance), to delve into the details of the story.Most of the programs took a retrospective look at the case to refresh viewers' memories. Some news programs even returned to the Montserrat area near the scene of the events. They interviewed lawyers, criminologists, and crime experts to recall the most sordid details and some theories that had been put forward in the past year. On "Tot es mou", the discussion served as a strategy for speculation., the discussion served as a strategy for speculation.In the news, there was another differentiating fact that caught the attention. At Antena 3 Noticias, they pixelated the faces of the Mossos d'Esquadra who accompanied Andic to protect their identity. At La Sexta Noticias, on the other hand, they pixelated the detainee and left the faces of the police visible. In the rest of the news programs, they did not erase anyone's image. There is no single criterion or clear approach in the decision.Meanwhile, in X, Carles Porta responded to viewers' requests: “Of course we will try to cover the Andic case, but now is not the time. Allow me to remind you that a detainee is not guilty even if they are sent to prison. A trial and a sentence are necessary. We have to wait and see how everything evolves”. The proof of the need to spectacularize the story and the audience's impatience to discover the details. A voracity that seems to make us increasingly insensitive to tragedy.

Sunday, the Telenotícies migdia opened, logically, with the Andalusian elections. Thanks to an artificial filigree with rhetoric, it linked to a piece about Isabel Díaz Ayuso's murky trip to Mexico, from which she had already returned six days earlier. But the most surprising thing is that the third news item of the TN (and the second opening headline) was Bulgaria's victory at the Eurovision Festival.After telling us that the song Bangaranga had won, it was framed as an international conflict to explain the influence of the televote in catapulting Israel to second place. The report included a survey of Israeli eurofans. The piece tried hard to give it unjustified geopolitical relevance. It was implied that Telenotícies had predicted a victory for Israel that did not materialize. The problem is not that Eurovision exists within the TN, but the hierarchy and treatment it received. Eurovision took precedence over the war in Ukraine, with Kyiv's biggest attack on Moscow. It also took precedence over the Ebola outbreak and the shooting death of a man in the Port de la Marina neighborhood. As a final touch, they announced the return to prison of a certain Dino Marcelo, and, using the excuse that they had images of him robbing a supermarket, they added statements from his lawyer to justify her client's conduct.The report that followed caused perplexity. It was about catechumens in Catalonia. They explained who they were and the growth of this community, which has gone from 161 adult baptisms in 2022 to 327 in 2026. The information led us to the church of Sant Pere de Reus, where four people were participating in a community baptism. One explained how catechesis had allowed him to complete one half of himself, and a woman spoke to us about the inner strength she felt to live the Church. The piece lacked informational distance: what reasons explain this supposed boom in Catalonia. This must be done because public television must be clear about its criteria for managing religious beliefs. In the Telenotícies certain discourses cannot be disguised as simple human experience. But the most surprising thing is that the catechumens' report was prioritized over the summary of the Pujol case, Salvador Illa's institutional trip to California, and the budget negotiations. Unheard of. Eurovision, the prison for Dino Marcelo, and the 327 catechumens of 2026 ahead of Catalan politics. The news is increasingly being contaminated by digital experience and emotional consumption. Ayuso is the state's Trump, the omnipresent figure who functions as an element of tension in any news report. Eurovision has very exuberant images and an inevitable political background, but it should not be turned into a first-rate international conflict, losing sight of the musical spectacle.Bangaranga, the title of the winning song at Eurovision, in Creole language means chaos or mess. A very fitting word to define the scale of priorities of Telenotícies. A bangaranga criterion that reflects the journalistic crisis of our days.

Trials are one of the most effective dramatic structures that exist. That's why many real trials have become major media spectacles. There is conflict between two parties, reinforced by the narrative of witnesses and evidence. There is tension, suspense, and a final verdict that resolves the drama. Therefore, historically, courtroom dramas have become successful television formats very useful for turning social conflicts into entertainment and spectacle. Two historical examples are Puyal's "Vostè jutja" on TV3, and "Tribunal popular" on La 1, with Javier Nart and Ricard Fernández Deu. Now La 2 has incorporated into the tradition "El juicio", a judicial recreation in which current issues are debated: should more be invested in public healthcare?, are today's young people living worse lives?, is it legal to profit from housing? Questions with a moral orientation and an ideological charge that, from the outset, pose a binary dilemma in much more complex areas. What is surprising about this new format is a theatricality with very realistic pretensions. The set is imposing and shows influences from American trial programs. It has very good lighting and direction. The program is structured into two narrative areas: the trial and the report. The trial, almost as a tribute to the genre, brings back the figure of Fernández Deu, who has been promoted to judge, complete with a robe. Facing each other in the two conflicting parties are lawyer Montserrat Nebrera and journalist Ana Pardo de Vera, who is also referred to as a lawyer as if she were one in reality. Between them, they interact with classic jargon in the style of "con la venia de su señoría". A comedy that grinds a bit due to the excess in the falsification of roles. Even the most servile inertia of the most backward justice is reproduced. "Call Mr. Antó, please!", exclaims the judge. And the supposed civil servant, in an outdated uniform, opens the door. A very good selection of anonymous citizens become a popular jury and make a final deliberation before "judge" Fernández Deu pronounces the verdict. It is an ambitious and well-crafted program, unlike few others on the current grid. The witnesses who take the stand, requested by both parties, are excellent. They are experts in the subject matter who respond clearly because the format requires brief interviews that must get to the heart of the matter.

Jordi Évole and Eduardo Casanova's new documentary to raise awareness about HIV causes great perplexity. Firstly, because of the title: Sidosa. The actor, who has the virus in an undetectable state due to medical treatment, tells Évole: “I have AIDS. Well, I don't have AIDS. I say «sida» as a reclamation, because I like the word. HIV and AIDS are two different diseases. But, just as gay people have reclaimed the word «maricón», I want to reclaim «Sidosa». I would love to”. The reclamation of words, especially insults, requires decades of shared cultural circulation. They are not an individual decision. Because then one falls into trivialization and the temptation to turn a very serious historical and health stigma into an aesthetic operation. The feminization of the term also deflects the focus. In Spain and Western Europe, the epidemic predominantly affects men, with rates exceeding 80% of cases. Everyone is susceptible to infection, men and women, but giving it a feminine gender is a theatrical transgression that has nothing to do with the epidemiological reality or with HIV education. It is understood that the title seeks queer dissidence, but this is also a way of specifically linking the collective with the disease again, and this reactivates imaginations that for decades contributed to stigmatization.The result of the documentary is a mess. Eduardo Casanova's role dilutes and hinders the educational purpose due to an egocentrism and immaturity that turn the narrative into an at times unbearable loop. The actor's rhetoric confuses and even causes the discourse to regress. He himself, on several occasions, faced with the panic of telling his surroundings that he has undetectable HIV, speculates on when to say it, and repeats "I have AIDS!". In the context of a film festival, he suggests to Évole: "And if I go up and say: “Look, I have HIV! I have AIDS!”", making the two conditions synonymous. In the documentary, phrases like "We've been stuck in the eighties" and "Things haven't changed that much". Unfair statements given the reality, both scientific and human.An activist advises Casanova to always maintain dignity when communicating it, speaking with serenity and firmness. The protagonist contradicts the approach. It is legitimate for the actor to express fear, anguish, or vulnerability. But the imagery he projects to the viewer is too often melodramatic, with hyperbolic emotionality focused on the identity wound and a spiral of suffering. After communicating it to his hairdresser, he asks: “Are you afraid to cut my hair now?” This is going backward and reiterating prejudices. This drama pigeonholes HIV into an inexorable pain that goes against the medical advances that have transformed the lives of seropositive people. The documentary falls very short on positive references, normalization, and prevention education, which is what is needed. Sidosa is organized from a devastated self-perception that reinforces the stigma it seeks to combat.

In Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass, the second part of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the character Humpty Dumpty asks Alice how many days there are in a year. She replies 365. Then he asks how many birthdays a person has. And the protagonist says one. And Humpty Dumpty triumphantly concludes that this allows for 364 days a year to celebrate unbirthdays, non-birthdays. From a satirical and literary perspective, the proposal might seem attractive. But it is of absurd logic because the fun lies in celebrating the exception and not the norm. Years later, from Disney's version of Alice in Wonderland, the Mad Hatter character sang A very merry unbirthday to you during the tea party. It was a way of telling us again that any occasion is good for a celebration without giving too much importance to the reason.

Next week CBS will close The late show with Stephen Colbert. It says goodbye to its main star and puts an end to the historic late night franchise that opened in 1993 with David Letterman. The network has attributed it to the program's economic losses and the crisis of this genre, which is declining in viewers and advertising revenue. But behind it are more powerful reasons: Donald Trump's pressures in a very hostile political context. Stephen Colbert has been, in recent years, one of the toughest television voices against the president. And the chronology of events reveals that Paramount (the parent company) has sought the administration's favor for the benefit of its business interests, in exchange for handing over Colbert's head. In recent weeks, the presenter has been saying goodbye to the audience by inviting influential people to highlight the end of an era. This Monday he organized a historic meeting. He brought together the four colleagues from the other late nights that are usually competition. Jimmy Kimmel (ABC), Jimmy Fallon (NBC), Seth Meyers (NBC), and John Oliver (HBO) visited Colbert's show to honor their colleague before he closes shop. They call themselves the Strike Force Five. It's the name of the podcast they made together during the writers' strike to raise money to pay their crews. John Stewart, whom they considered the “designated survivor”, did not attend. The concept has to do with government meetings, where there is always one member who stays out of the office so that, in case of a catastrophe in which everyone dies, there is always an authority to manage the nation. “Someone among us has to survive so the president can get angry,” they joked, aware that television nights have become a hostile adversary for Trump. Colbert reflected with them on the possible crisis of the late night, which they logically denied, although the figures also suggest it. “Have you ever thought you would do a job that the President of the United States could not stand?” he asked them. The responses betrayed a certain celebration of this circumstance. The host suggested that, now that he will be free, he would offer to be a guest on their respective shows or to replace them if they want to take vacations.Last week Colbert interviewed Barack Obama, and the comedian joked about the need to find a new job. Both played with the speculations that Colbert could run as a candidate in the next White House elections. Obama hinted to him that "the bar has been lowered," referring to the demands to obtain the position. A clear allusion to Trump. For the moment, they are only rumors, but all of this reminds us how the line between the world of politics and entertainment has blurred. We have known for a long time that media figures can reach the presidency. But late nights have also ended up having a decisive influence on politics and opinion creation.late nights have also ended up having a decisive influence on politics and opinion creation.

Tuesday night, on Cara al show on La Sexta, Marc Giró interviewed Gabriel Rufián. The difference in communication pace between the two caused a certain expectation. It was necessary to see how Giró's machine-gun delivery would fit against the politician's discursive parsimony. But they soon achieved an apparently spontaneous harmony. The presenter lowered his pace and Rufián increased his. To vary, the spicy comments served to foster a connection. The program recovered an old interview on El intermedio where the ERC deputy confessed to having had an erotic dream about Marc Giró. The anecdote served as the perfect excuse to play at building sexual tension between the two. Weeks ago, Rufián stated that he preferred filling tiktoks rather than libraries. It was a way of admitting that politics no longer circulates from intellectuality but from emotionality and spectacle. And, consistent with his thesis, he gave his all. He explained that he pees sitting down and that a fan took a photo of him on the toilet. He confessed that he was an admirer of David Bisbal and Marta Sánchez. He admitted that he never sleeps on the AVE because he is afraid of being photographed and becoming a meme. He explained that he wears red underwear because it brings him luck and that he sleeps naked. He is an expert at cooking potato omelets in competitions and is methodical in his facial routine. At night he puts on a mask and during the day a little makeup to look better. When flirting with Giró, he let him know that he had never had a homosexual relationship. Nevertheless, Rufián stimulated the fantasy of a romantic comedy between the two of them. A violinist even appeared to create a more sensual atmosphere, and they said goodbye with a kiss on the lips, with more impetus from the politician than from the presenter. It was an erotic-festive interview typical of a late night. In this context, the politician abandons his role as an institutional representative to become a character. Rufián is a master at this. It is a spectacle to enhance charisma, presenting himself as likeable and approachable at a very decisive point in his career. It is legitimate to wonder if the same interview could be conducted with a politician from the right – or far-right – and if the public would perceive it in the same way. At what moments do we humanize political leaders and at what moments do we whitewash them. Likeability, entertainment, and slightly risqué anecdotes deactivate the viewer's critical gaze. Rufián was not innocent either. He tried to shed his label as a heterobasic man to deconstruct his masculinity and make it contemporary and sensitive. Everything is useful when recruiting followers. At a time when television is increasingly designed to be promoted through viral clips, the program was a factory of moments to fill tiktoks. 

In recent days, Isabel Díaz Ayuso has been on an official trip to Mexico. The distance has prevented her from getting involved in the week's hottest news and the purpose of her transatlantic visit has been called into question. For this reason, as soon as she set foot in Spain, she needed an emergency loudspeaker to intervene, albeit with a delay, in all the controversies.Tuesday at noon, Nacho Abad welcomed her to En boca de todos, one of the most sensationalist and extreme programs on television. A space with a register not very suitable for presidential interviews. Abad, with a subservient attitude, prepared a script where Ayuso could practice her two favorite sports: victimhood and taking credit. As soon as they started, Abad gave her a compilation of the insults that her political adversaries had dedicated to her in recent days: "I am going to tell you what they have said about you: they have called you out of touch, ridiculous, grotesque, provocative, a persistent liar, and a recalcitrant victim". Meanwhile, she lowered her gaze afflicted, lamenting the aggressiveness of politics. Ayuso answered all the questions in a subdued tone and a childish attitude, as if repeating a lesson learned by heart to display her virtues. Nacho Abad kept serving her the topics on a platter for her to finish off with clarity: "Are we going to regularize criminals?", "Is there money for everyone?", "What is the national priority?". Questions that served her to launch into a political rally with the greatest hits of the most staunch right-wing, focusing on Spanish identity and the dangers of immigration. It is no coincidence. Emphasizing the security problems that immigration entails is one of Abad's obsessions in crime news. The presenter also pointed out that they were investigating Zapatero for collecting illegal commissions. ““Zapatero or laundromat?”, the program captioned on screen to provide context for the answer. They also showed him the Spanish government's criticisms for having neglected the hantavirus crisis, and Ayuso allowed herself the liberty of ridiculously imitating minister Ángel Víctor Torres for the messages he had sent her. She did the same with minister Mónica García, who will be her adversary in the next elections in Madrid. Faced with criticism for her trip to Mexico and the activities she had carried out there, Ayuso lashed out at president Claudia Sheinbaum for having boycotted her events and for putting her in danger during the trip. She described Mexico as a "narco-state" and warned that, with Pedro Sánchez in government, “Spain could become Mexico.”The television show catches the attention from the Catalan perspective. In Catalonia, we have become accustomed to the president of the Generalitat, whoever it may be, appearing in institutional interviews, formally very careful and prepared from the journalistic demand. It is a service to the citizen. What we saw on Cuatro was the complete opposite: a show for Ayuso to use for her own benefit, as a platform for propaganda and image laundering.

Early Sunday morning, Canal 24 Horas showed the arrival of the cruise ship MV Hondius at the port of Granadilla. The scene from six in the morning was rather calm: nighttime views of the illuminated port and the radar image to see how the ship was advancing towards the coast of Tenerife. We saw the sun rise with the vessel in the foreground. Despite the complexity of the operation to disembark the passengers, the image was one of calm and control. Surely the one provided by the Sunday television schedule, unaccustomed to noise.On Monday morning, the media scandal began. On La 1, the program Mañaneros, unworthy of a public television for its sensationalism and unscrupulous journalistic bias, posed the headlines in terms of a political war. "Hantavirus Management: Who Emerges Strengthened?", "PP's Silence: Success of the Operation?". The narrative revolved around the clash between the PSOE and the PP, and the tensions and disagreements between the Ministry of Health and the Canary Islands government. On La Sexta, on Al rojo vivo, they maintained this confrontation with a bit more subtlety. They highlighted “El PSOE saca pecho” and the headline of the president of the Canary Islands lamenting that they had tried to ridicule him with the hypothesis of swimming rats. In the Atresmedia media, it was striking how they had added graphics to the images of the operation, as if the scene were being observed with a telescopic sight, enhancing the idea of control and danger. As happened with covid, to scenes with people equipped with PPE, masks and other sanitary protectors, action or horror music was added. Since the coronavirus pandemic six years ago, there has been a tendency to take advantage of the post-traumatic stress of viewers in the face of terrible images from hospitals. Infectology has become televisually fascinating, because everything that implies contagion has a very spectacular staging from a sanitary point of view.On Espejo público they incorporated Senator and Secretary General of the PP of Madrid, Alfonso Serrano, to the guest table. Very opportune for analyzing the operation. The most regrettable thing is that while they were discussing with the panelists, they had the President of the Canary Islands, Fernando Clavijo, standing at the edge of the screen for twenty minutes waiting to be interviewed. Standing and with his arms folded, he waited for his turn. Minutes after they dismissed him, he appeared on Telecinco, on El programa de Ana Rosa, to say the same thing. Curiously, in both morning magazines, the PP's directive was noticeable. Serrano on Antena 3 and Quintana on Telecinco criticized the television coverage. “This looks like a reality show!”, “They've set up a studio”, lamented the first, reproaching the presence of cameras and journalists to follow the operation. On El programa de Ana Rosa they titled with sarcasm “Lights! Cameras! Landing!”. It is astonishing to see how those who are supposed to be doing journalism lament the news coverage. And even more so the one that is done from a distance and almost with binoculars. As if the alternative of doing it secretly and without cameras were to be better.

A young man gets off a train car of the Railways. He is not dressed up, but the intention to achieve a good appearance is noticeable. On his left arm, he carries a bouquet of roses, upside down. He holds it with theatrical nonchalance, as if the flowers were accidental. It is as if he were somewhat ashamed to walk around with that bounty of flowers. He is uncomfortable. It is inferred that he has to give them away, but until he delivers them, it seems he is also carrying an added dose of vulnerability that he tries to hide.

The BBC has organized a special program to celebrate the hundred years of Sir David Attenborough, the most extraordinary naturalist and communicator in television history. The celebration culminated in a magnificent gala at the Royal Albert Hall in London, with the protagonist present in the royal box, seated between his wife and Prince William of Wales representing the royal family.

Three episodes of No se n'ha parlat prou have already been broadcast on La 2 Cat, a new format that, according to the press releases for its premiere, offers "a different look at current affairs, focused on what often remains outside the media spotlight." Considering the program's title and this approach, the topics they have addressed provoke a certain bewilderment: Sant Jordi, Donald Trump, and the Barça-Madrid match. It's fortunate that the look was supposed to be at what is on the margins of the media. It would be difficult to find topics that have been talked about more.They insist a lot on this “different perspective”: “a different space for conversation to approach current events in a different way too”, they say at the beginning. Or that it “looks for the cracks in current events and focuses on issues that remain in the background”. But no matter how much they repeat it, the harsh reality is that it is a discussion panel, which is not exactly the height of originality today. A conversation around a table, in a warm and friendly atmosphere, moderated by the always efficient Laura Rosel. Of the relaxed tone, we could also say “little effort” on the part of the participants. Some collaborators rotate, others repeat depending on the week or can perform complementary roles. One of the usual guests is Jordi Basté, omnipresent on the chain, who has placed himself among the cast of signings, because the program is from his production company. Since not enough has been said about anything on El món a RAC1, it needs an extra dose on La 2 Cat. This climate of relaxation has, however, some collateral damage: there is always a moment of what we could call conversational cunyadismeconversational. With a few exceptions, the argumentative proposals are characterized by obviousness, commonplaces, and easy contributions. Perhaps the most original detail of the approach are the mobile phone holders they have on the table, which incorporate the phone as an undeniable appendix to the dialogue between humans.In the conversation, a prominent figure linked to the program's central theme is integrated in a second part for Rosel and the collaborators to interview. This is, undoubtedly, the most unique part from a television perspective. There is also an analysis section titled Has it been talked about too much, which serves to continue discussing the same topic, creating an infinite loop that contradicts the program's theoretical objective. Another cliché is the dose of humor that must season any format, performed by a street reporter, Víctor Lafuente, too worried about being funny. An informal musical performance serves to bid farewell to the program.The will to be different from It has not been discussed enough is limited to an aesthetic issue. The comfortable and elegant space, the warmth of the lighting, and a circular layout mark the visual differences. What is not discussed enough is the enormous difficulty for television to dare to talk about different issues and, above all, from an expert perspective.