Back in 2010, an entrepreneurial Galician lady took advantage of a loophole in international law and registered with a local notary her ownership of the sun. Her aim was to charge us all for the energy received from the star. Incredibly, she was supported by the Spanish courts, though no one has yet been billed. More recently, she's been internet-selling solar plots to idiots at €1 a metre. But spoilsports eBay have now decided this isn't on and have frozen her account. A magistrates' court has pronounced them wrong to do so. With luck, then, this will go all the way to the Supreme Court(s), first in Galicia and then in Madrid. Followed by the making of a film. Cara al Sol? Or with words, if you want to sing along. (Not advisable in your local bar or paf).
My 4th visit to the Guardia Civil in connection with my burglary went well. Not only did the chap at the desk remember my name but we discovered a mutual acquaintance in the Guardia. The personal connection having been well and truly established, things were done quickly and cordially, ending with a friendly handshake. This may serve me well the next time I'm stopped for one of Spain's multitudinous traffic infractions. Meanwhile, I now have to deal again with the an insurance company intent on weaselling out of its obligations. Hey, ho.
On a wider front, the wages of sin continue to be paid: The king has stripped his big sister of her main title, in view of the upcoming trial for corruption of her and her husband. Which will probably make Xmas lunch this year even colder than last year's. And down in never-knowlingly-uncorrupt Andalucia, the police have arrested another stack of civil servants and politicians around the humungous fraud around phoney training companies that sucked billions from Brussels. And, finally, the prison gates have shut behind a Valencian politico who siphoned of €1.6m of charity money contributed for the relief of Third World poverty. I'm guessing it'll be waiting for him when he gets out in about 2 years' time and he may find it hard to prove he inherited from a father who was successful in business but just forgot to tell the tax office.
Every now and again we have a 'Prostitute Season' in Spain, when the media talks about the scandal of the country's disproportionate number of brothels and (mostly) foreign sex-workers. We're going through one now, with earnest discussion of the various alternatives for addressing the issue. But things will go quiet again soon and, as usual, nothing will be done. Apart from the occasional closure of a bordello that re-opens a week or two later, possibly with a new name. Now that I think about it, brothels seem to be the only establishments not to suffer closures as a result of La Crisis. (In case you're asking how I know - they're not exactly hidden, being high-street establishments.)
Finally . . . A nice quotation from Ambrose Bierce's Cynics' Word Book: "Egotist: A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me." More to follow.