Seventeen injured. Not in a war zone. Not in a factory collapse.
At a tapas festival. A tourist train overturns in Cártama, and the spectacle of leisure infrastructure crumbling under the weight of its own frivolity is almost too perfect. We have built a civilisation on entertainment, on the primacy of pleasure.
And now our toys are breaking. This is not mere misfortune; it is a symptom of a deeper rot. The Victorians built railways to unite an empire, to transport coal and cargo.
We build them to shuttle the bloated bourgeoisie between tapas stalls. When the wheels come off, as they did in Cártama, we are shocked. But we should not be.
A society that prioritises leisure over labour, spectacle over substance, should expect its infrastructure to mirror its hollow soul. The 17 injured are victims, yes. But they are also symbols of an age that has mistaken a tapas train for a serious undertaking.
We must ask: what else will derail before we remember what truly matters?
