This Sunday, May 18, a new demonstration was held by the platform "Lanzarote has a limit," which seems to be a local branch of "Canarias has a limit." Or something like that, who knows, since it is very difficult to keep track of the countless contortions of the left to change its name, which is one of its key methods of survival: deceiving the staff who have no memory, that is, the majority.
I must point out that I was at the demonstration, I mean I was on the beach and the demonstration passed by me. So I decided to approach it to study the slogans, the posters and the staff. As a good democratic citizen, to study the proposal.
The first thing I noticed was that everything was complaints about tourism, vacation rentals, cement and things like that. The usual, a complaint about the high cost of housing disguised as tourism-phobia. Even a girl put a sticker on the beach shower warning tourists that many people on the island do not have access to water, as if it were the fault of the tourist and not the inept and corrupt politicians that these same protesters have elected since the dawn of time. The left lives by blaming the other, by turning the visitor into an executioner and the voter into a victim. They are experts in the art of making you feel guilty for breathing, for existing, for showering.
Not a word, of course, against the President. Nothing against Pedro I the Sustained, who has been in La Moncloa for seven years without building a single solution beyond his narcissistic monologues and his decrees embalmed in progress. Not a poster against Ábalos, his fallen right hand, nor against the WhatsApp messages in which they laughed at Podemos while they were cooking the Royal Decree-Law 37/2020, which ended up being a love letter to squatters and tie-wearing holders. They laugh at everyone and then legislate seriously.
Pedro, who doesn't make a stitch without ego, voted against the general interest as if he breathes, by reflex. Because Pedro, as we know, sells Spain for a retweet and an investiture. He has mortgaged a generation in the name of his continuity. And in the meantime, the guys from the protest bring him the ideological café con leche. Not a criticism. Not a doubt. Only flags.
All these lack of criticism to the main person responsible and arsonist of the country, already tell you that it was a sectarian protest of the left without transversal nature in society. Probably financed by the socialists and the elitist César Manrique Foundation, who only live to live well themselves and to hell with the rest of society.
And, yes, the protest was well loaded with seven green star flags, which are like the Pokémon of Canarian independence: they shine, they scream and they don't exist. Some flags without history, without epic, without epic except that of Cubillo, who played revolutionary in a bathrobe from Algiers while leaving a trail of stupidities that ended, oh causality, with 583 dead in Los Rodeos. Putting that flag in a demonstration is like waving the flag of clumsiness and delirium. And, even so, the left embraces them as if they were the holy shroud. Because here everything that is not mainstream, even if it is absurd, is cool.
So yes, another demonstration, another procession of dogmas without criticism, of slogans without solutions, of self-proclaimed victims who embrace each other as those who lick their wounds in a circle. They do not ask for real responsibilities. They do not point to who legislates, to who can change things. Only to the tourist, to the businessman, to the thrifty people, to the other.
And of course, then they vote. They vote what hurts them and complain about the wound. They applaud the arsonist and accuse the firefighter. They are, in short, Pedro Sánchez's groupies, the cheerleaders of disaster, the chorus of mourners with banners.
Congratulations. Enjoy what you voted for.
