by Irene Bianchi

When I was a child and scratched my knees playing in the street (in those days, believe it or not, streets were safe), my mum would tell me to close my eyes and repeat wholeheartedly: “It doesn’t hurt! It doesn’t hurt! It doesn’t hurt!» while she disinfected my wound with alcohol, implementing a sort of amateur mind- control method. Last Sunday, after Massa’s solid victory in Buenos Aires province, CFK turned up with her defeated candidates, and they all looked happy, relaxed and joyful, as if they had won, or as if they couldn’t care less. Were they silently repeating my mum’s secret formula?, I wondered. Could they possibly ignore the figures? Or are they all fans of Gabriel García Márquez’magic realism? As the saying goes: “No hay peor ciego que el que no quiere ver”. (none are blinder than those who do not wish to see.)