Absolutely Fabulous: Parliamentary Fashion

You really can tell so much from fashion or someone's dress sense, can't you. Or you can be left entirely nonplussed by sudden transformations. What did we make, for instance, of our very good friend, Balti of the Balearic Parliament Presidency, having donned what looked suspiciously like a suit? Admittedly it was denim, but there was that rarest of sights in a Balti-style: matching top and bottom. Was this a sign of Balti edging towards establishment respectability? Can we anticipate him getting a haircut some time over the remaining period of the current administration? Or was it simply that the Felanitx charity shop had got some updated stock in?

The new Balti look was given an airing at the do for the Guardia Civil on Wednesday evening, when the atmosphere was so frosty between Sweet and Friendly Francina and the Witch of Salom that they should have all been togged up in scarves and mittens. The reason for this, what with Maria looking straight at Francina when accusing the government of undermining national identity, had something to do with a bit of a carry-on in Catalonia, whatever that was all about.

Balti wasn't alone in mystifying or intriguing keen political fashion observers. Earlier in the week there was a line-up of various parliamentarians who had gathered for a photo opp to publicise a highly worthy initiative, which is that next year will be the year of mental health in the Balearics. One stresses that this is a most laudable idea, but what sort of statements were some of our dear parliamentarians making in order to honour it? I mean, why was Marga Prohens dressed in some kind of Baby Doll frock and looking as though she was sweet sixteen? The contrast with the Podemos Boot Girl, Laura Camargo, couldn't have been greater. Laura was in a power black dress. She might have failed in her bid to become the Podemos Coordinator, but she was leaving the victor - Granny Mae - in no doubt as to who still wears the trousers, the boots and the black dress around Podemos. She has, after all, spent the past couple of years letting Alberto Jarabo know this.

But there was more. The Earth Mother, Patricia Gómez, had traded in the kaftan for a full-length black gown and white jacket. The health ministry must have been having a cocktail party to celebrate having reduced consultant waiting times by 0.47% this month. It was hard to think what other explanation there could possibly have been.

And then, ah yes then, there was Xe-Lo. Removed from the public eye for some months since having been dispatched to the Valley of the Fallen behind the PP in the parliament arena, Balti's predecessor was clearly determined to make a real statement and to confirm one's suspicions that she had indeed spent much of her time as parliament president developing the Xe-Lo range for the fuller feminist.

What a statement it was too. Black t-shirt on which was emblazoned in a sparkly silver on two rows - FABU LOUS. Well, you go for it, girlfriend. It must indeed be absolutely fabulous to still be picking up the parliamentary pay cheque, despite having been banished by Podemos. But while we're at it, what actually was it with the use of English? Does the government's linguistic "normalisation" police know about this? Maybe there should in fact be a government fashion normalisation department. No, forget that, they might actually think it's a good idea and put Balti in charge.

* Photo comes from the Partido Popular.

Xe-Lo And Montse Denounce Parliament

The office of the president (aka speaker) of the Balearic parliament is - decor-wise - much in keeping with the interior of houses inhabited by ancient Mallorcans. There is, therefore, an enormous amount of wood. Wood panelling, wood flooring, crafted wooden chairs, wooden coffee table and a very wooden desk. The principal concession to modernity is the three-piece with silken yellowish finishing that matches the curtains and what small areas of the walls aren't wood. The other concession is the occupant of the office, Balti.

Given his former life as some form of metalworker, one might have anticipated Balti having performed a metallic refit; even a Metallica one. Out with wood, in with aluminium. Or, in a more traditional (Mallorcan) style, in with some bits of old wrought iron that had been rusting in a shed in Binissalem and which can now be restored by artisan apprentices on youth guarantee schemes, paid for by the vast surplus that parliament turns in, and held up as examples of economic diversification and as a means of tackling tourism seasonality. (All types of alternative employment, you may have noticed, address seasonality.)

Not so long ago, the Balearic government was said to be eyeing up the cash that is sitting in parliament's bank accounts. In other words, the government wanted it. Assuming that the accounts haven't been raided or that finance minister Catalina Cladera hasn't been banging on the glass-pane wooden door to the office and handing in a demand for several million euros, President Balti will have a bit spare to kit out some other offices.

As there are some offices - one, in particular - which need a makeover, surely Balti could get in his new (secondhand) Kangoo and nip down to Ikea for some furniture. He must also, you would think, know the odd artisan office renovation chappy who could be hired, albeit that the process for doing so - in order to prevent any accusations of favouring a mate - would entail a public tender (put out for thirty days of public consultation) and verification by the numerous Podemos citizen councils.

So, getting things done, as in getting new offices sorted out, probably does take some time. Might this, therefore, be the explanation for the discontent being shown by two members of parliament - two former members of Podemos members of parliament?

Xe-Lo, who not so long ago could rattle around the vast presidential suite, and her chum Montse are clearly getting ever more brassed off with their ostracisation. The two fully paid-up members of the Not-Podemos-But-Would-Still-Like-To-Be Party have taken considerable umbrage at the state of their office, if only they had one.

There is apparently a room available, but parliament technicians have told Xe-Lo and Montse that it is barely big enough to swing a cat (not that anyone from Podemos either present or past would do such a thing) let alone accommodate the substantial forms of both themselves (plus two lucky staff), a couple of tables, four chairs and a closet. These same technicians say that the room is not appropriate for working. This being the case and also that Xe-Lo and Montse are having to store vital documents in boxes, they've issued a denuncia against the parliament's board. Off it has gone to the employment ministry's work inspectorate, while they have also raised the matter with parliament's health and safety committee and the occupational hazard prevention officer.

This is clearly an outrage. Here we have a government which espouses dignified working conditions and yet two members of the house are presumably having to make do with sitting on a corridor floor. Obviously things have got so bad that they can't even just have a word in the shell-like of the employment minister, Iago Nicaragua (or whatever it is). He was himself, after all, once a work inspector.

Balti, meanwhile, appears not to have made any comment on this sorry state of affairs. In the spirit of being all-inclusive (in a citizens' style as opposed to a hotel), he must be able find space for Xe-Lo and Montse in his office. And with all that wood acting as soundproofing, no one would ever hear ... .

The Playground Of The Balearic Parliament

It doesn't get much better, does it. Aspiring parliamentary headmaster, Vicenç Thomas, took the throne that he covets, if only temporarily, and started to read the register. "Huertas?" "Seijas?" "Has anyone seen Huertas or Seijas?" "They're behind Més," blurted Jarabo. "Huertas, Seijas, why are you behind Més?" "We are of the left," they responded as one. "You may well be, but you were told to go and sit on the naughty chairs behind the PP. So I ask again - why are you behind Més?" "This deputy's going nowhere," insisted Seijas. "Look, I shall ask you only once more to go and sit behind the PP. If you don't, then I'll call security and they will physically move you." "It'll take a small army of security to do that," scoffed Jarabo. "Please, Jarabo, I expect better from you. There will be no weightist or fattist jokes in this chamber. Huertas, Seijas, why are you still there?"

And with that Xe-Lo and Montse arose and plodded off to the one and nines of the public gallery. Rarely, if ever, have the public been privileged to have a former speaker and friend come among them. And the public gallery is to where they will return until such a time as they are granted their wish to be among Mésites, if only in the rear. When might this be? Hell will probably have frozen over or perhaps the arrival of a new headmaster (not Vicenç) will enable a more conciliatory approach. This is unlikely, though, if Jarabo gets his way. Balti is the only man (or woman) for the job, it now seems. And if the Mésites and PSOE turn him down, then Jarabo and Podemos will break the pact. So there. Yah-boo!

They don't want Balti because he's a metalworker, insisted Jarabo. Which isn't strictly accurate as he's a full-time parliamentary deputy. He once was, though. But this isn't of course the reason why PSOEMés don't want him. It's pretty obvious why not. He looks like the one-time bass guitarist with The Allman Brothers Band. That's why. Get a haircut, Balti, and you'll be ushered in no problem.

Once the Xe-Lo/Montse panto was dispensed with, it was the turn of the PP to put on a display. As one they stood up and marched out of the chamber. Normally, in Congress anyway, it's Podemos who are the ones for the walking in response to jibes (typically of a Venezuelan nature) being launched from the PP. The insults were on the other foot (or mouth) in parliament.

Jarabo described a "mafioso relationship" between the PP and Palma police. Illegal trafficking in and possession of weapons, obstruction of justice, trafficking influence, malfeasance, coercion, bribery, threats, extortion, falsehood, insider dealing, crimes against public health, offences against the environment. And there, among the PP ranks, was the alleged "boss" of this network - Alvaro Gijón. Off marched the PP, two of them returning only for formality's sake, while there were heated discussions to a) get them all to go back and b) get Jarabo to apologise, which he didn't.

Vicenç, if he had seriously felt that the parliamentary presidential malarkey was worth it, would have been having second thoughts. Best let Balti handle things in future, Vicenç. Things can only get more ridiculous.

Xe-Lo Likes Mick

Xe-Lo and her new best friend, Mick Vidal of the PP, were all smiles. Together they had placed an obstacle in the path of the coup attempt. Xe-Lo was not for leaving, other than to walk out of parliament with Mick, if not quite in hand in hand but with her reaching for a fag, as she had so unflatteringly been seen to do when her and Mick's courtship was starting a few weeks ago.

It turned out that parliament's lawyer had produced a document requiring Xe-Lo's instant dismissal. Xe-Lo hadn't seen this and nor had Mick. Right, they said, we're off, and they were, leaving the self-proclaimed Father of the House, PSOE's Vicenç Thomas, to do some explaining. Vicenç, first vice-president of parliament (there always have to be at least two VPs for pretty much anything), had taken over the meeting because Xe-Lo, reasonably enough, said she couldn't chair it given that her job was on the line. Out came the document, one with which Vicenç had believed that the blow could be struck. Alas no, where Vicenç was concerned. At least for now. He rather fancies Xe-Lo's job, allegedly.

What were the PP playing at, the "pact" demanded to know. It was obvious what they were playing at - causing mischief. Pact-ites railed against PP irresponsibility, while the PP were rolling around the floor with laughter. The greatest institutional crisis in the history of the Balearic parliament, the pact said, and the PP were to blame. Which wasn't strictly accurate. The crisis has all been of Podemos's making.

The crisis is such that a not unreasonable question was there to be asked about this document. Who had instructed the lawyer? As Xe-Lo was (still is) president, does she not get involved in such a matter? There again, she was unlikely to go all turkey and Christmas and tell the lawyer to order her dismissal.

Given that no one has a clue what's going on at present, the race to be Xe-Lo's successor was shunted into the background. And Podemos discovered, to their horror, that one of the runners and riders - the preferred one on account of her being a member of the sisterhood - was herself being shunted into the parliament presidential sidings. Marta Maicas had been cited by a judge in respect of Montse Seijas's "denuncia" for the digital signature falsification business. If not Marta, that leaves Podemos with only the Balti man, Picornell, as a front runner.

Neither Marta nor Balti curry a great deal of favour with certain pact-ites (especially PSOE). They are looked upon as being, well, too "shouty". Parliament and Podemos may live to regret the Xe-Lo crisis, given that all parties believed she was in fact rather good at her job, when not, for instance, being on holiday in Rome. PSOE would like the Father of the House to be officially anointed as daddy. And Vicenç wouldn't say no. The greater crisis would then ensue. Podemos would lose their one real hold on power not just in the Balearics but in any Spanish region. The pact would be subject to even greater pressure than it already is.

Meanwhile, the Podemos sisterhood credentials were in fact taking a further hammering. In addition to the alleged "blackmailing" of Carmen Azpelicueta - "be a good girl, and we'll look for a job for you" - it now seems that when a woman was being interviewed for a post as an adviser at the Council of Mallorca, she was asked if she has plans to get pregnant. That is a question that cannot be asked.

The Jesús And Montse Chain

If rock music had never existed, its invention may well have used as its prototype The Jesus and Mary Chain. Here, pre-Oasis and pre-Primal Scream, was a post-punk creation, aided by Alan McGee's Creation Records, notable and notorious for two brothers with a capacity for duelling cricket-bat violence that could have acted as the manual for the Gallaghers and a further capacity for vast drug-taking in the grand style of the Primals' Bobby Gillespie, who had after all been their original drummer. Naturally enough, it was to eventually all end in tears, the Reid brothers at the point of killing each other.

They have, of course, in good rock tradition, reformed, having discovered a maturity that was singularly lacking in the eighties. The fate of The Jesus and Mary Chain may act as a metaphor (minus, one trusts, the drugs and violence) for what is the new political rock 'n' roll. Had political parties never existed, the invention could have been Podemos. Ostensibly ultra-democratic, extending a message to an audience of worshippers like those waving their lighters at a rock concert, forging rather than breaking a mould of staleness, they burst onto the scene with a previously unknown vim and vigour. But as with many a rock band, they are confronted with the difficult second album, the first having been the astonishing impact at the Euro elections and then the regionals and generals. The difficulty is such that there are political (musical) differences, a fragmenting and no small amount of infighting and intrigue.  

Amidst all this, we have the Jesús of the party: Jesús Jurado, the second vice-president at the Council of Mallorca, the number three to the Banbury Boy, Mick of the Consell. All had seemed sweetness and light at the Council, Mick steering a consensual ship with his able vice-presidential men, Jesús and Francesc Miralles of PSOE, navigating in the same direction. Then there came the thorny problem of budgets. Darkness encroached, and more was to come. Jesús, so it is being alleged, had been selecting senior officials by himself, forming his own off-shoot group at the Council and leaving the three-piece band appearing to be shorn of one member.

While Mick's band is running up against its difficulties, Jesús's alleged contracting enters the territory signposted Ethics. Or rather, in the opposite direction. Podemos, refuting any unethical behaviour, are adopting a somewhat different line to that regarding Xelo Huertas and Montse Seijas. The latter was branded a "defector" by the local leadership as she was formally dismissed from the parliamentary group last Monday. Where her defection will lead her remains an unknown, but the meeting at which she was expelled didn't hint at the political differences ending up with her and Xelo forming The Happy Mondays.

Montse returned the compliment. The defectors are in fact the Podemos leadership. She, Montse, said that she will continue to defend the ideas of Podemos. It is they, the leadership, which are not. "They do not defend what the citizens voted for." Following this, and like rock bands resort to litigation in squabbles over royalties, Podemos now find a court taking an interest.

Montse presented a "denuncia". This claimed that her digital signature had been used without her knowledge. She had registered questions that she wanted to ask on health matters. Some while later, it emerged that the questions had been withdrawn without her consent. A judge, therefore, would like a word with the Podemos leadership. It could, say could, represent a violation of her rights as a representative of the citizens, which would be a serious issue. The leadership's response is that this was "an administrative error" in a "routine" procedure such as the automated system of signatures. The judge will seek to unravel this particular chain.

Meanwhile, Podemos give an appearance of themselves unravelling. Might they split, citing political differences, only to reform some time in the future and return having acquired greater maturity? Probably not, but they nevertheless face the problem of the difficult second album.

Xe-Lo And The Andy Capps

And so, another week of everyday Podemos folk. The plot thickened, and no more so than when Xe-Lo was photographed "fraternising" with the PP. The expelled Podemosite, fag in mouth (highly uncomplimentary it looked), was walking in the street with the PP's pro-tem leader, Miquel Vidal. What might that mean?

There was a peculiar lurch to the right among the Podemos sisters who have been ejected by High Command. Xe-Lo was with Miquel, and Montse was cosying up to Xavier (Pericay of Ciudadanos). Determined to remain as a Balearic parliamentary deputy, Montse announced that she would be seeking refuge in something known as the Grupo Mixto. This mixed group is an odd affair that comprises Ciudadanos (two of them) and the Gent from Formentera, of which there is only one gent, as in one person; which is roughly the sum population of Formentera. The Gent is (are) defined as eco-socialist and Catalan nationalist, which would make them bed mates of Més and most certainly not C's, who brandish garlic every time the devil of the nationalist thing is broadcast.

What do they have in common? Well, nothing, other than being parliamentary waifs and strays huddling together to keep warm and to ward off the mighty powers that dwarf them. And now Montse's about to enter their midst; Xe-Lo as well probably. At least they'll grow in size; in more ways than one. Stranger and stranger.

Meanwhile, the vultures were gathering and preparing to hover over the curly-haired head of Podemos number one Alberto Jarabo. Xe-Lo-ites gathered at a bar in Palma, the purpose of this being, it was suggested, to come up with a strategy to depose Alberto. Their intervention may not be necessary. Chief among the Podemosites, Pablo Iglesias, was making known his admiration and affection for The Boot Girl (Laura Camargo), ostensibly Alberto's number two but poised, though she denies it, to formally wrench power from Alberto. Her Bootness was being praised for her anti-capitalism, which Pablo has now fully bought into (if an anti-capitalist can be said to buy into anything).

The Spanish press have shortened the name of this bunch to "anticaps", which is just a short step away from them being "Andy Capps", and appropriate this is, if only some respects. Andy, from good working-class stock, could be a motif for the anticaps, except for the fact that they aren't working class (Iglesias certainly isn't). As for his permanent cigarette, that has more in common with Xe-Lo, who seemed to be on the point of joining the ranks of fully paid-up capitalists.

To add to all this confusion, Mallorca was graced with the presence of the Infant. Iñigo Errejón, representing the alternative, Podemos-lite, not-Andy Capps, was invited by Alberto to come and explain his view of the ever more weird world of Podemos. Was this Alberto aligning himself with the Infantists? He wasn't actually saying, but there were others in the Balearics who came out firmly in favour of the Infant, one of them being Da Judge (Juan Pedro Yllanes).

Then there was the whole business of who might get the gig as president (speaker) of parliament once Xe-Lo is finally prised out of the chair. More confusion. Iglesias was supporting Jarabo in his determination to cling onto the speaker's throne. The Boot Girl was intimating that Podemos might give it up and allow a Mésite to take over. Who was supporting who then? And on what? Podemos - one moment this, one moment that, but certainly never a dull moment.

The Podemos War Has Come To The Balearics

It wasn't the best of weeks for the Podemos sisterhood. Despite having been suspended by the politburo in Madrid, Xe-Lo mysteriously still managed to bustle into the Balearic parliament and take her place on the speaker's chair. It wasn't, therefore, the best of weeks for other parliamentarians. No one was paying any attention to them. All eyes were on the suspended Xe-Lo.

Suspension was the polite way of describing the early stages of the Podemos purge of dissidents. Along with the purge was coming the spin. Xe-Lo, we were led to believe, had applied pressure to the initials - B.B. (Biel Barceló) and C.C. (Catalina Cladera) - to seek to ensure continued funding to the laboratory run by the alarmingly big-haired Podemosite doctor, Daniel Bachiller, who could himself be mistaken for a member of the sisterhood.

The idea that there was pressure being applied seemed somewhat fanciful. Had she tied B.B. to his parliamentary chair and poked him until he agreed to handing over every last euro of tourist tax revenue to the Bachiller lab? And what about C.C.? A fully paid-up member of the PSOE sisterhood, it was unlikely that she would accede to demands made from someone - Xe-Lo - who fell out in spectacular fashion with sweet and friendly Francina Armengol when she jumped PSOE ship some four years ago and ended up in the ranks of Podemos. To put it bluntly, Francina can't stand her.

And on closer examination, what was really the fuss about the Bachiller funding? He may not have been coming up with the research goods, but it turns out that this arrangement goes back some ten years. Should we conclude, therefore, that it was all the fault of Jaume Matas? It was during his reign that the funding started, and it continued through the Antich phase and on into the Bauzá era, when austerity was all the rage but apparently not when it came to a lab that wasn't achieving a great deal.

While Xe-Lo was resisting calls from the likes of Wild Man Més, David Abril, to vacate the speaker's chair, another one of the Podemos sisterhood was active in seeking a counter-purge. The also suspended Montse Seijas, who no one had ever heard of until last week, denounced Podemos general secretary Alberto Jarabo over his connections with the broadcaster IB3. Jarabo, in his former life, was a producer. Seijas, it turned out, had commissioned a report which raised "alarm" where she was concerned because of the apparent ongoing, if indirect, relationship between Jarabo and IB3; essentially, the production company for which he had been working has allegedly been getting more work. This report was, according to Seijas, sat on because of its supposedly defamatory nature.

Questions have been asked as to why Podemos High Command got involved in the local issue of the Bachiller lab and who put High Command up to suspending Xe-Lo and Seijas. The IB3 angle suddenly made things appear (potentially) somewhat clearer.

While all this local business was going on, High Command, in the form of Podemos leader Pablo Iglesias, was stamping his authority more firmly on the party. Amidst the internecine struggle between Iglesias and the Infant Iñigo Errejón, an Iglesias man, Ramón Espinar, was named general secretary of the party in Madrid. The loser was Rita Maestre, most famed for having taken her clothes off (well some) in a Madrid chapel and therefore having ended up in court on a charge of denying religious freedom (she was fined some four thousand euros). Rita is referred to, in somewhat disparaging terms, as "la chica de Errejón".

Anyway, her defeat confirmed the progressively more left-wing shift of Iglesias, who is now firmly aligned with the anti-capitalist extreme wing of Podemos, of which the Balearics Boot Girl, Laura Camargo, is a leading light. And it is Laura, as everyone knows, who wears the trousers in the Balearics. Jarabo is her soul mate. The Seijas IB3 intervention was a declaration of internal war. And the winners will not be either another Errejón "chica", Xe-Lo, or Seijas.

When In Rome ...

The week before last a delegation set sail for the Eternal City. Its mission was to seek out new saints (one in particular) and to seemingly go where no eco-nationalist, anti-capitalist politician would normally boldly go. Mick of the Council and XeLo of Parliament were members of this delegation, their three-day mission to have an audience with the Pope and press the claims of Ramon Llull for sainthood.

The claims-pressing, one fancies, was handled more by Sebastia Taltavull, who is sort of the Bishop of Mallorca, as in he appears to be in temporary charge of the bishopric since the naughty bishop was given the heave-ho. But for appearances' sake, the presence of senior political figures was required, even if they are not of the variety normally associated with matters of strict Catholicism.

The mission over and the delegation was waved off back to Mallorca minus one member. XeLo had gone AWOL. Rather than returning to the Podemos Republic of Mallorca, XeLo stayed on in Rome, bustling through the streets of the Eternal City, credit card at the ready to splash out on Armani or the latest JLo collection. XeLo was on holiday, and she wouldn't be returning for the National Day celebrations, which, rather like church matters, do not loom high on the list of priorities of good Podemos citizens. Moreover, she skipped Tuesday's parliamentary session. The president (speaker) of the house was nowhere to be seen. She was still in Rome.

Questions were duly asked. Not directly to XeLo in parliament because she wasn't there. But no sooner had she landed in Palma, and had to fight her way through the millions of Germans who had invaded the island and saturated it once more, than the questions were being put. Why were you on holiday? Who paid for it?

In fact, XeLo had saved the citizens some money, as she had paid for the return flight. The citizens were doubtless immensely grateful, those who could be bothered to pay any attention to the row. As for having a holiday, well, she hadn't had the time in summer, it seemed. Which is all somewhat strange. Parliament, like schools, breaks up in mid-June and doesn't gather again until mid-September. Yes, there is the odd extraordinary session (extraordinary that the 59 deputies are doing anything), but the official XeLo agenda during summer suggested that there were more than 60 days when she could put her feet up.

Then there was the question about the Ethical Code, the part of it which deals with turning official trips into private holidays. Because XeLo isn't a member of the government, this doesn't actually apply to her, but the spirit of the code appeared to have been broken. To XeLo's defence came virtually no one, except for Laura, the Boot Girl. Camargo insisted that the workers' statutes provide for 30 days holidays. XeLo had otherwise only had the odd day off here or there since being elevated to her lofty status.

Was it all a fuss about nothing? Quite probably so. After all, and as a PSOE sort observed, it didn't make any difference to the parliamentary session. There are substitute speakers, unless they are also off on holiday in Rome.

Heavy Metal And Xe-Lo's Wardrobe

It was startling news indeed. Som Palma were having their wishes fulfilled. They had wanted a city of heavy metal and they were to get one. Lemmy and Motörhead were on their way in order to make a video. Will it end at this or might Lemmy be drafted onto Palma's governing administration? He surely couldn't be any dafter than the current lot. Not that we know for certain that the video will be filmed in Palma. If there is any justice, then Motörhead will head to Montuïri and display two-dotted umlaut solidarity.

They asked for extras to apply, but why bother when the ranks of Podemos, the Assemblea teachers' lot and the odd Més-ite contribute sufficient numbers of rocker hairies. Podemos leader, Dave Spart, might fit the bill, roaring across the Majorcan countryside on a Harley, if only to the rear of The Boot Girl, who firmly has her hands on the controls. There again, The Boot Girl's more punk: "Laura is a punk rocker, Laura is ...", as Joey Ramone Bauzá might have sung.

One thing can be certain, though. There would not be a great deal by way of harmonies were Podemistas let anywhere near Lemmy. These have been days of disharmony within the Majorcan branch of the Church of Pablo Iglesias, and it was one that began with a slight problem with clothes. In the end, Dave had to come out and defend the monthly 400 euros that were finding their way to the Mother of Parliament. Podemista speaker of the house, Xe-Lo Huertas, needed the dosh in order to kit herself out for those times when official duties require that she puts on a show - like demanding of the King that he spends money for official receptions on soup kitchens instead.

One trusts that Xe-Lo spends the money with economy in mind. When Primark opens next year, she should be first in the queue, though it's more likely that she'll be found at the local market, acting in solidarity with artisan clothing designers, and so spending a small fortune in the process. But why not engage in a spot of her own artisaning? The Xe-Lo J-Lo range of official-duty kaftans for the fuller and more mature woman.

But worse was to come with the news that Podemistas in Calvia were abandoning the political party they had set up in their droves (well, handfuls, as in around twenty of them), as in they were turning their back on the Sí Se Puede Calvia. It was something about Podemista sorts who had been allowed to enter the council administration but who were now mere "spectators" to the town's politics and not acting in accordance with ethical commitments to the electoral programme. Or maybe it was something else. It's hard to tell.

Meantime in Palma, there were more signs of disharmony. Aurora Jhardi of Som Palma was predicting the death of Podemos. There was a terminal illness, she suggested. Though, as in Calvia, it was difficult to understand what she was going on about, which is a consequence of there being political parties - Som Palma or Sí Se Puede Calvia - which aren't Podemos as such, merely affiliates, and Podemistas who remain faithful to the preachings from the Iglesias Church. It does all rather sum up Podemos. Onlookers haven't a clue where they're at, while of those within their ranks there are some who are similarly clueless and others who spend their time at each other's throats. Aurora then said that by terminal illness she had only been using a figure of speech and that it was all part of the self-analysis and self-criticism that goes on within Podemos or parts of Podemos which aren't Podemos as such. By self-criticism, one might take this to mean that they can't stand each other.

Sorry, I'm totally baffled, and I'm sure you are as well.

Our Ladies Of Wecan

All is not well in the Reform Church of Iglesias. The faithful have started to desert the pews of Saint Pablo and Our Lady of Wecan, seemingly alarmed at the thought that Wecan might weaken Spain by converting it into the Greek Unorthodox Church of Syriza. Had this thought not occurred to them before? Or is it the case that the faithful are only now rumbling Podemos? The easy part was grabbing hold of some power at the ballot box. The less easy part was always going to be convincing the faithful (and others) that, once handed this power, they aren't just a bunch of hairies from the students' union locked in mortal combat with each other in dissecting their own version of Dialectical Materialism rather than being taken seriously.

In former times, English slang gave us the "nit". In strictly linguistic terms, nit means nothing. The nit of slang was someone who was foolish, who did not do sensible things, who had nothing to offer except nittishness and being a nitwit. It would be harsh indeed to suggest that Podemos (We Can) have nothing to offer, because they have plenty, and some of it is sensible. However, they are doing their best to appear to be nits, a bunch of Charlies, some right Herberts, or even left Herberts.

Laura Camargo, considered by some to be the real power behind the Wecan throne in the Balearics of Dave Spart Jarabo, confronted the lovely, indeed immaculate Inmaculada de Benito of the Mallorcan hoteliers federation and launched into a tirade of fraud, worker abuses, exploitation, blah, blah. Laura might have a point, but it became lost in the vitriol. Why did she do it? Probably for public consumption. Wecan were wanting to show the Mallorcan public that they can stand up to the hoteliers, that the hoteliers' days in the sun of power are no more. Unfortunately, and despite a large number of Mallorcans concurring with the view that the hoteliers do have too much power, there is a far greater number who rely on the hoteliers and related businesses. Laura really should learn that she isn't in the students' union and that in the real world one adopts a less strident manner.

Our Lady Laura of Wecan was but one who was indulging in delivering sermons from the pulpit of Saint Pablo. There was also Our Lady Xelo. She informed his Royal Highness that, rather than splash the cash on the thrash at the Almudaina when various politicos and others are invited for some gin 'n' tonics, the moolah should go towards soup kitchens. On balance, one would have to agree with Xelo that this might be, in still-crisis times for many, a preferable deployment of financial resources, and the King, thoroughly admirable man that he is, might even be inclined to agree as well. However, protocol and all that does rather intrude into such affairs. Whether Xelo will ask for a doggy bag for her canapes and cut along with it to the nearest crisis centre after the reception, we will find out.