I was listening to Pedro Sánchez’s favorite guru, Iván Redondo, on TV the other morning. He talks a lot. I think he emptied more pools than is certain and I also think he knew a lot. I listened attentively to him over a nice cup of coffee and two things that can sometimes be scarce and hard to find. And less together. Redondo talked about Extremadura and Seville, Barcelona and the Community of Madrid. Gurus are so singular that I don’t know if the word has a plural. Gurus seem a bit strange. I don’t know if the guru was born, but his natural habitat grazes well on a television set, although his natural habitat is the shadow of the leader, the strategic whisper, the suppressed passion, the lucky motto. Redondo now writes in newspapers and speaks on TV, has a company and, I think, a blog. Just as a neglected journalist. He went from advising the president to preaching in the media. Diller says Sánchez is fed up with him. not gossip. Redondo are like managers who understand football but don’t care about the team. What they want is to train. Professional. He worked for Extremaduran PP before taking up residence in Monclovita. Sometimes politicians don’t want someone who knows a lot and they want someone with good intuition. With the data in hand, the scientist who advises to focus on such a state is appreciated and even pays his salary, but taunts the guru who invented a “I can and I promise” or “Get out, Mr. González”. Kat and her eldest son are invited to her wedding and are even quoted several times in the first volume of memoirs. Some gurus live by the myth that a great leader is their guru or adviser. Others never speak, which expands the mystery. And your cache. There are those who give interviews just to talk badly about Tezanos: they want his position. A guru is not exactly a counselor. The guru does not need to work, have a well-lit office, and be allowed to think. Sometimes we think he’s thinking, but he’s at a bar, or on vacation in Santiago de Compostela or Ribadesella, or he’s having a hot pot with another guru. But without speaking. They’re both silently not consultants for this, and they have a lot to work out. The guru thinks to speak but it is the counselor who rolls up his sleeves and writes, he is already a little flushed. And he’s jealous of the guru who has access to the big boss’s office and still has to ask the secretary for access. The guru is given the task of taking a chisgarabis and making him a councillor. He lives by putting a member of parliament in his head that he can be a minister from there. There are politicians who have never changed their gurus. Others make the ITV every year and throw it away if the headlights don’t go well. Guru and counselor have one thing in common: the insult they like best to throw at others is the charlatan. The Crecepelo vendor is obsolete: people get implants.
