November 20 20-N, so the Stockholm syndrome.
I was born on October 4, 1975, living just over a month of dictatorship, the tail of a monster ejector, a coerced freedoms and a fascist in all aspects, but I had children of transition in Avila, a school full of suits and pure fascist in classrooms calling themselves Sir, with crucifixes on the walls and longing (of them) do not hang the picture of the author of one of the darkest chapters in the history of this peninsula. Supporters of capon and campion, hair pull the pin and the paddling, black and white people who masturbated recalling the face of the sun and they carried flowers to Mary.
Luckily, with 10 years came to Barcelona and stayed in the memory of the node that teaching, those teachers and teaching that I hope are dead and cremated to avoid getting sick cypresses of the cemetery. But that is another issue which I will discuss another day.
What I want to make today is still there remains a drain of people with flags preconstitutional honors this monster from the time of the Olivetti and the tracing paper at police stations, the censor of culture, erotica, individual freedoms.
not fit in my head that make the elderly who lived all the chapters in the flesh, nor the fifties recalcitrant raising his right arm in the Valley of the Fallen, but fewer people my age or younger, for one thing is the Stockholm Syndrome, and other stupidity.
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