Spaniards

Days go by on this crowded beach under long naps lulled by the sound of the clatter (plas-plas) of flip-flops. There is still a summer cinema with a huge lime-stained screen, which is appreciated now that the jibarized screens are triumphing, preventing the majesty of a close-up where the brilliance of a glance stands out. That’s why I was happy when my nephews suggested going to the movies that night. But there was a problem: it was ‘Jungle Cruise’ and I got a heat that not even De Gaulle begging for resistance, nose pressed against a BBC microphone, in front of the German invader. I came up, very high, perhaps because after so much hibernation on the sand I needed a coven. Y

 I decided to give them a speech …

I am fed up, I told them, of them abusing Spaniards when they need a bad guy for the movie, and of the black legend that creeps into their Saxon minds. I recommended that you read once about Roca Barea and Mira Caballos’s ‘Hernán Cortés’, damn it.

I explained to them that Hitchcock always understood that, without a good bad guy in the movie, the movie would work like a charm. A cartoon villain was just stupid, he had to be at least as attractive as the main character. That is why the very elegant Cary Grant from ‘With death on his heels’ gave James Manson a dark back, a perfect gentleman who looked fresh as a brand new brush. That duel between two beautiful velvety gestures was as memorable as the plane that tried to fumigate the divine Cary. I kept on chattering, growing more and more furious and furious, gesturing like a trippy Mussolini. They looked at me with eyes.

I pointed out, with sadness and anger that, if they resort to the slogan of the Spanish kaffir, this is because we Spaniards themselves have assumed our sinister condition without question. We are used to it. They have accustomed us. And, what secretes great frustration, comes with our meekness. English, Dutch and French were much more sons of bitches than us, but much, however, almost never, since Hollywood, they use them as evil models.

Why? I was already attacked by a formidable delusion and I added that we should not forget our null role in the international concert. They are missing with us because we are easy prey. We don’t paint anything. But nothing at all.

Biden’s gaze when the other tried to sell him a milonga made it clear. Even an undocumented person like the new president of Peru dares to insult us in the presence of the King. You will tell me. My nephews stared at me in confusion.

I felt success in my hand. My verb was convincing them. Looking for a bad paddle? Don’t worry, there we have an unhappy Spaniard. But they had bumped into me, no less, and I was not going to see that movie. Before dead but intact of honor. A nephew yawned. The other said, “Uncle, we might be late. Come on, take the money and let’s go. I obeyed. There is nothing like an enraged Spaniard. nothing less, and I wouldn’t go see that movie.

Before dead but intact of honor. A nephew yawned. The other said, “Uncle, we might be late. Come on, take the money and let’s go. I obeyed. There is nothing like an enraged Spaniard. nothing less, and I wouldn’t go see that movie. Before dead but intact of honor. A nephew yawned. The other said, “Uncle, we might be late. Come on, take the money and let’s go. I obeyed. There is nothing like an enraged Spaniard.

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