After the post-truth, it seems that all that remains for us is to "watch the representation of the world" played by a group of cheap little clowns, out of nowhere, arrogant and proud of a greatness conquered by the imbalance of networks. Dominating the Circus, they play the game, kick the ball and whenever they get angry (which happens often, given their instability) they grab it and put it under their arm and threaten to break it. They discuss the size of the buttons that are not cuffed, have striking ties, grimace, have comic hairstyles, show themselves brave and make provocative comments when booed. Shown as shy and despite ridiculous and, sometimes, make us laugh... they are truly dangerous!
These are just a few of the ones we chose to participate as actors in this "little parody on grandiloquent romanticism" that Ivan Turgenev wrote in 1843, from (we think) his "passión española" named Pauline Viardot Garcia, an enigmatic woman, singer of opera, married to a Frenchman, who despite being cruelly ugly had so much talent that all the cream of the European intelligentsia of her time and of both sexes fell devastatingly in love with her.
The Circus has these things...