There’s something grimly funny about this story on reactions to Mario Silva‘s whacked out personal attack on Miguel Henrique Otero..and something pathetic, heart-rending about its studious avoidance of repeating the phrase that obviously brought it all about.
Listen, there’s ever so much to question about our darling El Nacional editor. His dear mum’s livelihood strategy or her attitude to Sex Work as an occupational choice is…erm…not one of them.
But La Hojilla? If it’s not in the deepest, darkest recesses of the gutter, they’re just not interested…
Mario…Mario…Mario…if we didnt have you, we’d have to invent you.
If a democratic Public Sphere is like a garden, a frail space for cultivation under constant threat from an ever encroaching wilderness that therefore needs constant care and love and devotion if it’s ever going to grow, prosper and nourish the intellectual community it seeks to sustains, then Mario Silva is a plague of locusts.
Nadie puede con eso, mi hermano…and one guesses that’s the point…
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