Political moment on the eve of elections

 

Politicians and diapers should be changed often and for the same reason. 

Eça de Queiroz

Although the remains of D. Sebastião were not believed by the idolatrous people, D. Sebastião must have died, just like Hitler, Mother Teresa and so many others. We Tugas, when we wake up to a foggy day, there we go to the barren hope of a king capable of covering for immortality to save us from annexation to Spain. Many say that given his bravery, with a small army and everything against him, in Morocco he faced the Moors who wanted to conquer the territories of Portucale at all costs. And it toppled over. This happened in 1500 and a few steps later, but if D. Sebastião did not survive alive, the romantic fog that covered him always returns.  Centuries later, we are still waiting for a D. Sebastião, perhaps older and more magical, who will revitalize our hope and joy in a future without fear. Yes, because our brave D. Sebastião would chase covid to a Moorish shop far from the nation.

The fog is there, D. Sebastião is not.

The numbers of this army of viruses are growing alarmingly and if Centeno could have known the battle of Ksar el-Kebir, he would not be talking about resumptions of 8%... Sebastião would say to Cristiano Ronaldo of Economics that fog is similar to sand. That the math doesn't add up. That the economy will recover, yes, but only towards the end of 2021, if Corona decides to slow down and help group immunity. I confess that myths are just that. Myths. 

 And we have a mythomaniac, not to say weird, political class eager to make a lie prevail and drag it into the next pseudo-truth. Many restaurants will close their doors permanently, many businesses will go bankrupt and with that no industry will sell products. If the peak of this wave happens in January, which one picks up what?!?  We are condemned to live in an age of rationing and begging. 

And in these times, the only ones who survive are those who have guaranteed pots, the strong economic groups, those who have access to bulk, to non-repayable investments, the politicians-lawyers, magistrates, the managers, the CEOs of EDP, Nos, Meo, Galp, the deputies of this and of those who accumulate useless functions, the positions and patents that we all know as VIPs. And the Moças de Cosme, with tronchuda and chives, similarities and tomato, beans, pork and wine helped by the iron and earthly will not to go hungry.

We are cannon fodder. No ventilation, no courage for active participation of the opposition. From afar, cowards close to D. Sebastião de rex de Portucale. 

The poet Alegre says that there are always those who resist, there are always those who say no (there is, even if in his curriculum as a politician the betrayal of the homeland has perished in his history).

Truths never are entirely. They pass through the sieve of censorship, dogma, and the myth that time grows old and perpetuates. 

Resurrect the sense of the State and the Shame, the Honor and the social notion that we are all in the same boat. May this virus, this planet, this state of consumption and appearances, burn you the chip that everything is fine and everything will be fine. It's not and won't be okay. It is not the world that has to change, but us. And that's a hell of a hassle. Does the 8% economic recovery take into account the fat handout that is expected from outside, from our 'European economic partners' who are also in recession? The window of the Bank of Portugal must have a view over a parallel world of offshores. You just can! I'm going to throw myself into caffeine and wake up the so-called Smog Savior we imported from the legend of the humanist Rex. And help the economy by tasting a cream from Penafiel, because Belém is far away