Brassens convinced us in a song that without the archaic and beautiful Latin the mass would be worthless.
The fiercest agnostic had to get something good out of the Church.
This she always tried to cover up her pious appearances.
Now that she is going through a time of ruin, after having been filled with wealth, with terrifying desertion of parishioners, her business becomes even more complicated when the sinister and endless pedophiles come to light.
The devil was always there but conveniently hidden.
The bosses of the shed did not punish their sinners.
When the scandal was excessive they limited themselves to changing parishes.
I imagine that in the name of the Almighty.
I heard among the scavenger news on TV some aberrations practiced by members of the religious caste.
And everything takes on an air somewhere between dadaist and grotesque.
It turns out that a parish priest from Don Benito and the boyfriend with whom he lived at the headquarters were dedicated to trafficking Viagra and other aphrodisiac substances that gave joy to the decayed bodies of the clientele.
They also inform us that a priest has been arrested for stealing an invalid's wheelchair.
That level of crime is very disgusting.
And tragicomic.
Oh, how some servants of God are doing!
And that's enough for TV.
I start reading a book, that ancient and continuous pleasure that most of today's children apparently disdain.
They do not know what they lose.
I discover, unfortunately late, although with enormous joy, two books as funny as they are intelligent.
Its author is the brilliant, original and unpredictable Ignacio Peyró.
They are titled
We ate and drank
and
You will settle down
.
This writing is elegant, hypnotic, secretly lyrical, humorous, descriptive of places, sensations and moods, cultured and joyful.
In the impregnable disorder of my packed library, I have managed to always have certain books on hand on the nightstand.
I can open them to any page when insomnia strikes.
They are
The Gray Notebook
, by Josep Pla, and the
Histories of London, New York, Rome, Calcio
written by my friend Enric González.
Peyró joins those pearls.
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