dolores666's photos with the keyword: PoliticsOfSurvival

Again, feel free to associate this image & message to the inept handling of the CV-19 predicament by our dear leaders; or to the puke-inducing servile party line taken by the Daily Mail re. King Clown’s latest “cute” proclamations. Personally I dedicate it to one of my favourite objects of my contempt: the creators, promoters, instigators and fuel-feeders of that most disgraceful of capers of the past couple of years, the (Silly) Catalan Question. Far too long since I picked on them. May they all rot in some tailor-made Hell. And here’s why: www.theguardian.com/world/2020/mar/09/catalonia-pays-3-to-firms-linked-to-shakespeare-was-catalan-theory This article is a poor rehash of a couple of articles I found in El País and Público a few days ago. The ones in the Spanish papers were better and juicier (and more detailed on the Cervantes/Shakespeare connection), but this one will do. See, even the Guardian has its uses, sometimes. And here’s one to that most surreal -and still inexplicable- of sagas, the run on toilet paper (in Spanish): www.publico.es/tremending/2020/03/17/covid-19-el-tengo-papel-higienico-es-el-nuevo-tengo-tierras-el-mayor-misterio-de-la-crisis-del-coronavirus And one to a simply marvellous bit of relatively unrelated but utterly divine surrealism: www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBLOs93IJbw Have a spiffing, panic-free week. And un po’ di mu’, of course. www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMdmWysEp5w&list=PL1954DB8E36117DA6&index=10&t=0s www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrK17taonVY

Meet the promised peripheral Italian saint: Santa Farfallina di Sestri Levante. She hops and hovers atop the mountains of Liguria preaching permanent dissent, infinite patience, stubborn endurance and selective schadenfreude. “Hear ye, hear ye!” she cries. “Do not tolerate the intolerable! Take comfort in the modest fact that you are not Dominic Cummings. Live your lives as if the R-Evolution was possible. Resist and bite.” And so on. So far she hasn’t converted many people, but the Floaters and the mountain Trotters absolutely love her. She subsists on offerings from the local Shoggoths and the odd contribution from the Shub-Niggurath, who has a secret hidey-hole under the Lanterna in Genoa. The santina herself has a pintsized pied-a-terre in Piazza Campetto, where she throws occasional small parties for a selected crowd of mad poets, avant-garde dancers and notorious cat chroniclers. Her feast day is a movable feast, naturally. NB. This is mostly for don Attilio “El Caffarenito”, who will get all the in-jokes.

I’ve been meaning to do something on these delightful ultimate survivors for a long time. Hitch scratched: here they are. As you can see this lot are philosophically inclined. At least the orangey one is. The green one is more the let’s-get-on-with-it type, bless it.