Julio Llamazares: Medina and Luceño

In it Olympus of Spanish corruptionthe one in which names like Luis Roldán, Mariano Rubio, Juan Guerra, Mario Conde, Jesús Gil, Bárcenas, Rodrigo Rato, Jaume Matas, Carlos Fabra, those of the ERES of Andalusia, those of the suits of Valencia, Francisco Correa and Bigotes, those with Caja Madrid black cards, the Pujol family, Alberto González, Francisco Granados, Commissioner Villarejo, Tamayo and Sáenz, Julián Muñoz, little Nicolás, Urdangarin…

For a couple of weeks there have been two new gods, two heroes whose names, Medina and Luceño, seem more bullfighting than anything else, but who respond to the purest profile of the corrupt Spanishthe one that comes directly from the picaresque of the Golden Age seasoned in his case by a few drops of aristocratic blood and by the horn-rimmed glasses from the international business school of the two neophytes.

Medina and Luceño, Luceño and Medina, like Faemino and Cansado or Rinconete and Cortadillo in other fields, already form an inseparable tandem, a unity of destiny in the universality of corruption, so full of binomials and couples. As much as they wish they will always walk together, either to jail or to popular mythology of infamy.

When one believes that this country can no longer give more of itself, someone comes along and denies it. When the commission for the masks of the brother of the president of Madrid occupied all the front pages of the newspapers (erasing from them the king emeritus and other protagonists of the black political chronicle), Medina and Luceño arrive and they monopolize all the spotlights for their posh self-confidence and their cocky demeanor, which makes them different from all the previous ones.

For a few weeks, until others appear, Medina and Luceño, Luceño and Medina, will be the protagonists of the newscasts, the talk of a country that no longer knows who steals more from it, whether those who star in the newscasts and talk shows or those who in his shadow they get fat taking advantage of their protagonism. Because what is already clear is that in Spain, after so many cases of corruption, this is no longer an exception, but the general rule of behavior of the king emeritus below and from one end of the country to the other.

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If not, we can continue adding names, not necessarily of famous people, since the common one also behaves the same when he can: the professional who does not give you an invoice, the one who asks you for part of a sale, the one who hides his assets from Treasury, which publicly brags about not paying taxes or to pay less than they should while demanding quality public services from the State.

Somebody will be annoyed to see themselves alluded to in this relationship or to consider that the description that I make of Spain is not very positive, but one is the first to be hurt by it and to see that times change, but the picaresque and the grotesque are still with us. While the Germans lit up romanticism, the Italians the opera, the French the Enlightenment, the English the tragedy shakespearean or the Americans the epic of the conquest of the West, we have contributed to universal culture two literary genres that define us, the picaresque and the grotesque, which if they remained only in books would be a source of pride, but since they still permeate our coexistence they become a scourge difficult to bear insofar as they impoverish us and not only financially. Also morally and in self-esteem as a people, having to endure century after century a curse that we do not deserve, at least many of us do not deserve it.