Although it seems that some are suffering an attack of nostalgia, of better times . Of when there was still normal people who understood them, they were considered something . From where we came from something not too dark to see light ahead. As if that could be repeated, as if it were possible to come back, something to be in the eyes of ordinary people, good people.
But no, not the 70. The resemblance is tiny, so tiny as it was between Diego Salvá and Meliton Apples, as tiny as it was between Carlos Sáenz de Tejada and Luis Carrero Blanco . So tiny, in fact, as that may exist between Mario and Onaindía Garikoitz Aspiazu. Not even the martyrs have the same gloss (really sorry for the kid, but maybe it would be fairer than rail against the thallus banners with sausage) ...
definitely not the 70. Things, for better or for worse, have changed. It's really sad to become the only element of cohesion of the country on both sides perpetual, the backstabbing. It is too sad to make the stock who allegedly fighting fat, not realizing it. Or be too blinded by hatred and to act accordingly. It is too sad to be a caricature of your worst version, and to keep on falling even lower. It is sad that we live in a very tense last, and not accept that the tense has changed, threatening to take the front, and llevándotelo from time to time, to anyone who uses this to define the present, with all its nuances possible ( and desirable).
No, that's not nostalgia. Is schizophrenia.
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