God help us. The war drums are beating again. Somewhere between the tortilla and the gazpacho, the far-right guardians of Spanishness are having a collective nosebleed — purity tests for everything from ham to human beings. I couldn’t sit idly by and watch the madness. No, I strapped on my battered typewriter and unleashed a column so dripping in irony it should come with a mop in this week's Camino a Ítaca.
Thus was born: “How pure is pure enough? Asking for a carpenter from Nazareth.” in the SUR in English.
It’s a short ride through cultural absurdity — a landscape where being “too foreign” is a sin, but eating a Big Mac while complaining about immigrants is perfectly fine. If you’ve ever wondered whether your curry is unpatriotic, or if your neighbor’s flamenco isn’t pure enough to pass inspection — congratulations, you’re already in the story.
So pour a stiff drink, adjust your tinfoil hat, and click the damn link. The purity police are already watching — might as well give them something to read. Click over to read the Spanish version in the HOY or read below. (PDF en castellano abajo)
