Back in 2010, an
entrepreneurial Galician lady took advantage of a loophole in
international law and registered with a local notary her ownership of
the sun. Her aim was to charge us all for the energy received from
the star. Incredibly, she was supported by the Spanish courts, though
no one has yet been billed. More recently, she's been
internet-selling solar plots to idiots at €1 a metre. But
spoilsports eBay have now decided this isn't on and have frozen her
account. A magistrates' court has pronounced them wrong to do so.
With luck, then, this will go all the way to the Supreme Court(s),
first in Galicia and then in Madrid. Followed by the making of a
film. Cara al Sol? Or with words, if you want to sing along. (Not
advisable in your local bar or paf).
My 4th visit to the
Guardia Civil in connection with my burglary went well. Not only did
the chap at the desk remember my name but we discovered a mutual
acquaintance in the Guardia. The personal connection having been well
and truly established, things were done quickly and cordially, ending
with a friendly handshake. This may serve me well the next time I'm
stopped for one of Spain's multitudinous traffic infractions.
Meanwhile, I now have to deal again with the an insurance company
intent on weaselling out of its obligations. Hey, ho.
On a wider front, the
wages of sin continue to be paid: The king has stripped his big
sister of her main title, in view of the upcoming trial for
corruption of her and her husband. Which will probably make Xmas
lunch this year even colder than last year's. And down in
never-knowlingly-uncorrupt Andalucia, the police have arrested another
stack of civil servants and politicians around the
humungous fraud around phoney training companies that sucked billions
from Brussels. And, finally, the prison gates have shut behind a
Valencian politico who siphoned of €1.6m of charity money
contributed for the relief of Third World poverty. I'm guessing it'll
be waiting for him when he gets out in about 2 years' time and he may
find it hard to prove he inherited from a father who was successful
in business but just forgot to tell the tax office.
Every now
and again we have a 'Prostitute Season' in Spain, when the media
talks about the scandal of the country's disproportionate number of
brothels and (mostly) foreign sex-workers. We're going through one
now, with earnest discussion of the various alternatives for
addressing the issue. But things will go quiet again soon and, as
usual, nothing will be done. Apart from the occasional closure of a
bordello that re-opens a week or two later, possibly with a new name.
Now that I think about it, brothels seem to be the only
establishments not to suffer closures as a result of La Crisis. (In case you're asking how I know - they're not exactly hidden, being high-street establishments.)
Finally .
. . A nice quotation from Ambrose Bierce's Cynics' Word Book:
"Egotist: A person of low taste, more interested in himself than
in me." More to follow.
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