It’s been ten years since we woke up, like in The Hangover, with tremendous migraines after equally stormy, but more boring and predictable debates about the Salou hotel and casino project. The urban plan is now presented as a trigger for other Catalan elections (the fourth early in ten years), although in this film the Hard Rock is nothing more than the macguffin, the distraction that Hitchcock introduced into the script to advance the plot while maintaining the suspense.
Because in reality, be careful: spoiler, the movie is not about casinos, but about a James Bond of the regions, the return of Puigdemont, which is like that of Groundhog Day… If the groundhog were able to calculate how many times he can annoy to Spain, more than benefiting the Catalans, before next spring.
The Hard Rock has only been the excuse to precipitate the elections, but it remains a symptom of our inability to make decisions. And there is no decision without renunciation, but it is very difficult for us to renounce any of our obsessions in a posture.
And even more so the sanctimonious dogmatic left, imbued with the moral superiority of knowing what is best for us more than ourselves: “We don’t want casinos, because children will become gambling addicts.” It’s like hearing the Franco right prohibit boys and girls from sitting together at school, lest we touch each other.
Meanwhile, the Spanish right, pragmatic and aware that flags serve to cover up interests, will one day end up reaching an agreement between Feijóo and Puigdemont, who, for the moment, is wearing down Sánchez. And the Seminole Indians – that oppressed minority – who own Hard Rock, each charge $100,000 annually for their casinos in 70 countries, waiting to open the one in Salou. The poor are desperate to recover their ancestral customs and way of life as soon as possible.
The Tarragona petrochemical company would not pass the approval of the Parliament today either, which would leave the territory consecrated exclusively to hazelnuts. With cleaner air, but lower salaries. And for gamblers, those of the sausage in pairs in the Serrallo, because they play cards for honor and not quarters.
