Spanish life is not always likeable but it is compellingly loveable.
Christopher Howse: A Pilgrim in Spain
Spain - I've commented that Spain's much-loved and much-indulged-in conversations can be superficial/trivial. I'm reminded of the Francis Bacon comment that: He that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk what he knoweth not. Of course, some would say that applies in spades to me. Which might explain why I'm happy in Spain.
- This is the time of year for the oposiciones, the civil service exams which determine the future of many, many young Spaniards. One young man - studying for a medical course - complained in a Madrid paper yesterday, not that it was very hard work, but that the philosophy of his teachers was: It doesn't matter if you don't understand it; just learn it. Which a tad worrying.
- Renfe tip 1: You and I might see no difference on the screen of your phone but they won't accept a foto of your ticket - as attached to an email - but demand to see either your ticket proper or a PDF of it.
- Renfe tip 2: Especially when the sun's on the carriages, it's often hard to see what the numbers are from outside. Possibly best to go inside and see what it says on the bulkhead by the door.
- Talking of trains . . . Nice to read that the AVE high-speed train will reach Granada next year. One decade soon, we'll be able to celebrate that happening here in Galicia.
- Talking of Galicia . . . The temperature here early today is at least 15 degrees lower than it was in Madrid. So, I'm not particularly interested right now in The Local's advice here on how to stay cool during a Spanish summer. Perhaps next week.
- Fart claimed yesterday that he has a 94% approval rating with Republicans. “Can you believe that?", he asked. Well, no, Donald. Most of us don't believe most of what you say. Though we can believe that you used a press conference in the UK to lie about your popularity back home. Par for the course.
- From a Times columnist: To Trump, the protests were fake boos.
- There's a nice article below from the Daily Telegraph below on how Fart embarrassed even Mrs May.
- Looking for confirmation that Francis Bacon was the author of the quotation cited above, I came across the following - allegedly Arabian - dictum. Hard not to think of Fart when you read it:-
and knows not that he knows not,
is a fool; shun him.
Back to that Dunning-Krugger syndrome, identified but not named centuries ago.
Spanish
- Word of the Day: Mirada.
- It took some time but I did finally get confirmation that the above quote re talkers came from Francis Bacon. Specifically from his essay on Simulation and Dissimulation: As for talkers and futile persons, they are commonly vain and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk what he knoweth not. Again, hard not to think of Fart.
Theresa May smiled helplessly, as Donald Trump embarrassed her again and again: Michael Deacon
Even Theresa May’s weariest critic would have to grant her this: she possesses a frankly superhuman ability to withstand pain. Which is lucky. Because on Tuesday, at the Foreign Office, she had to hold a press conference with Donald Trump.
I don’t suppose the President meant to embarrass her. It just seemed to happen – and then happen again, and again. For example: the moment when, apropos of nothing, he boasted of his stratospheric approval rating among Republican party members – and then turned to Mrs May, and said, “That’s an all-time record. Can you believe that? Isn’t that something?”
Mrs May – whose approval rating among Conservative party members is somewhat lower – smiled helplessly, but didn’t reply.
By the same token, the President probably thought he was being kind, when he earnestly informed the media that the outgoing Prime Minister was “a tremendous professional”. Perhaps he didn’t realise that he sounded like a game show host attempting to console a contestant eliminated in the first round, by offering her a souvenir T-shirt, or a pen adorned with the show’s logo. He might as well have told Mrs May she’d been a great sport, and asked the studio audience to give her a big hand.
As for the way the President behaved while Mrs May was speaking: I suppose it’s possible he was listening to her. It’s just that he didn’t look it. Instead, he looked absent, distracted, as if he were contemplating something more important: which pair of socks to wear to the US ambassador’s drinks, perhaps, or his memories of the previous night’s puddings. Every now and again, Mrs May would abruptly address the President by name (“I’ve always talked openly with you, Donald”), and if this was designed to catch his attention, it seemed to work – because at each mention of his name, the President would swing round, and peer at Mrs May with interest, as if noticing her for the first time. Within a sentence or two, however, his interest would appear to wane, and he would return once more to his contemplation of higher things.
Whatever the temptation to collapse weeping on to her lectern, Mrs May remained at all times a paragon of diplomacy. She smiled politely at her guest’s idiosyncratic compliments (“Perhaps you won’t get the credit you deserve, but I think you deserve a lot of credit, I really do”). She kept a straight face, when he insisted that reports of mass protests against his visit were “fake news” (even though, at that very moment, the sounds of those protests could be heard wafting in from outside). She managed not to swallow her fist when he announced that the carve-up of the NHS would be “on the table” in post-Brexit trade talks. And she laughed gamely, when he pointed at Jeremy Hunt, and asked him whether he thought his leadership rival Michael Gove would make a good prime minister (“Would he do a good job, Jeremy?”).
In the circumstances, Mrs May held up very well. But then, she is a tremendous professional.
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