Jimmy died in self-defense, which is the resource of the free. There are people who they take their rebellion to the point of dying when it comes out of their noses. Jimmy was like that. So when a few weeks ago he told me that he wouldn’t write his column for OKDIARIO because “I don’t feel very well,” I thought it was Jimmy in his purest form.
It was the end of August and I imagined it delivered to the moliciesmoking his article with that irredeemable elegance that only those who put their lives at maximum speed have. Jimmy was not feeling well and ended up dying at the same time that the Government detailed the gag law on him.
The door has been slammed, sending everything to hell at the exact time when freedom began to bleed. To not see it, as only the grown-ups can do. “I don’t want to see her!” as she screamed Frederick when the boy brought the white sheet that covered Ignacio Sánchez Mejías at five in the afternoon.
Jimmy was a anarchist of principles with a particular Penal Code, a contemporary Poe that, unlike Edgar Allenhe did not waste time in setting conditions to achieve happiness. The easiest thing, resorting to the cliché, is to say that he was a big boy, but he was the opposite: a big boy. and a enormous human being.
I’m going to miss him on Friday afternoons, at the time when he sent me, with British punctuality, the same message on my cell phone: “Thank you for avoiding the lawsuit.” And I, after adapting his text to the law, responded with a brief “Let’s order.”
Like this for five years. You left in self-defense, JimmyI know. That’s why I don’t hold a grudge against you, namesake. Long live freedom, damn it!
