Election night has a very high radio and television level. The offer is impressive: La Ser, RAC1, Catalunya Ràdio, TV3, Antena 3, La 1 or La Sexta. The graphs and the analyzes are linked together, propelled by the force of a denouement that promises emotion until the last minute. The predictions are wrong, and that breaks the predictability of the future, in the short and medium term. La Sexta recovers as its headline the idea of ??the Frankenstein government, which is a perverse concept, which tries to legitimize perfectly democratic alliances. Years ago, an inspired cartoonist (sorry I don’t remember his name) drew the famous river scene from the classic movie. The Frankenstein monster was seen giving a flower to a girl. The girl told him: “I had been told that you were a monster, but you are very good and very kind.” And the monster responded: “It’s just that I’m on the electoral campaign.”
After the campaign, the monster is still there, like the Monterroso dinosaur. The winners are moderately sad and the losers are elated. It is as if Spanish politics wanted to travel back in time and return to the era of sweet defeats and bitter victories. The script for the night is that of a fast-paced thriller in which the intrigue evolves with each scene. The proof is that he even allows himself the luxury of introducing, as a preface or as a macguffin, the terrorist action of a group of Russian hackers against the Ministry of the Interior.
At Catalunya Ràdio, Manuela Carmena spoke to Ricard Ustrell and, from an intuitive memory, told him: “I don’t know what happens, but election nights always start with a very strong left and in the end things change.” Indeed: things change. The PP wins, although, in the Cope, Carlos Herrera speaks of a victory with the adversary of a but that, for now (experts recommend that we wait for the vote from abroad and the final count) blocks the possibility of governing. A few hours earlier, in RAC1, Jordi Basté insisted on the paradox, also Frankensteinian, of the role of Carles Puigdemont. Yesterday Basté insisted: he remembered the name of the cat that accompanies Puigdemont in his Waterloo house: Nino.
“The comeback was not a legend,” says Herrera, who, incidentally, recalls that, in his cheer, he almost hit the final result. The particular consolations help to digest the collective disappointments. The industrial demoscopia has failed, perhaps because, spurred on by the general anti-Sanchista atmosphere, it has wanted to become a de facto power instead of preserving its condition as a rational instrument for interpreting reality. And also exceptional hobbies for –for my part, thank you– feed the weeks leading up to an outcome that, like the last Mission Impossible movie, still promises action scenes, strong emotions and spectacular mask changes.
