Author: Jacques René Zammit

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Festschrift 2012

alex vella gera – il-kriżi u kif tegħlibha

The name may now be associated with controversy, much to his chagrin, but when alex vella gera hit the blogosphere it was “erezija” (heresy). Weird, eccentric and for a very long time I thought it was too far-fetched to be real. You discover Alex when you learn to discover his reflections and observations. I’d say childlike without meaning any disrespect. Honest in their down-to-earthness and contemporaneously angry and relaxed. I still value “Mill-art” as one of the greatest blogging brainwaves from blogosfera mmv…

Ereżija u l-kriżi

Billi għandi fissazzjoni fuq dati u l-kronoloġija ta’ avvenimenti f’ħajti, u l-mod kif jinħolqu mill-ġdid bħala tifkiriet, għandi memorja kważi fotografika ta’ ċerti żminijiet li għext meta jew kont fl-apiċi ta’ perjodu feliċi jew għall-kuntrarju, kont fl-eqqel ta’ kriżi personali. F’Marzu 2005 naħseb kont qed ngħix taħlita tat-tnejn. Minn lat wieħed kont tabilħaqq għaddej minn kriżi ta’ identità u iżolament, iżda fl-istess ħin kien żmien sabiħ ħafna wkoll, l-iżjed għax kien il-mument meta skoprejt il-blogosfera, li b’xi mod tatni opportunità biex niffaċċja l-kriżi tiegħi u neqlibha rasha ’l isfel. Għalhekk, wara xi jiem naqra l-bloggati tal-ewwel bloggejja Maltin, tħajjart nibda blogg jien ukoll, għalkemm ma tantx kelli fuq xiex nitkellem u nikteb, u lanqas biss kelli idea xi jkun blogg veru u proprju.

Ma domtx ma bdejt niskopri li bi blogg f’daqqa waħda kelli f’idi għodda eċċellenti biex inġagħal lili nnifsi nħossni importanti, maħbub, magħruf, apprezzat. Kienet illużjoni li mietet mewta twila u patetika, iżda kienet sabiħa, speċjalment fil-bidu. Ngħid għalija, jiena rari rnexxieli nittraxxendi l-ġibda kbira li għandu blogg għal min hu “navel gazer” bħali, u allura ma tantx inqis lili nnifsi minn ta’ quddiem fl-ewwel epoka tal-blogosfera Maltija, ħlief għal xi bloggati rari, bħal meta ktibt dwar il-funeral ta’ Julian Manduca. Iżda kien hemm bloggejja oħra li taw kontribut siewi. Jiġuni f’moħħi l-bloggati ta’ Mark Vella, u l-ħlewwa li biha Antoine Cassar wera l-entużjażmu tiegħu għall-Malti u l-możajki li kien beda jikteb, u l-eżerċizzji intellettwali ta’ Kevin Saliba, u nista’ nsemmi oħrajn bħal Sandro Zerafa, Oliver Degabriele, Jacques Zammit, Immanuel Mifsud, Patrick Galea, Kurt Buttigieg, Ġużè Stagno, anke Mario Vella (tal-Brikkuni) u l-lista tkompli.

Nimmaġina li nies oħra se jiktbu dwar l-importanza tal-blogosfera fil-ħajja soċjokulturali ta’ ċertu grupp ta’ nies Maltin, jiena fosthom. Għalija kienet l-ewwel darba li sibt ruħi parti minn komunità ta’ kittieba Maltin, pjuomeno tal-istess xeħta ideoloġika u b’interessi xi kultant simili, xi kultant le, u bejn wieħed u ieħor tal-istess ġenerazzjoni. Għal xi żmien kien jinħass it-twelid ta’ moviment. Iżda komunitajiet virtwali huma wisq astratti u fraġili biex jissejħu moviment.

Niftakarni niltaqa’ ma’ Jacques Zammit u Mark Vella, ġejjin friski friski mil-Lussemburgu għal vaganza fuq il-“blata”, u għaraft kemm huma differenti n-nies wiċċ imb wiċċ ħdejn kif jippreżentaw lilhom infushom bil-kitba fuq l-iskrin tal-kompjuter. L-istess meta ltqajt ma’ Antoine Cassar u Kevin Saliba għall-ewwel darba, u dawn it-tnejn kellhom isiru ħbieb tiegħi meta t-tlieta li aħna tlajna naħdmu l-Lussemburgu bħala tradutturi.

Din id-dikotomija qatt ma sibt irkaptu tagħha. Domt sakemm aċċettajt li blogg huwa spazju pubbliku, u li jkollok blogg ifisser li għandek preżenza fl-isfera pubblika, anke jekk ikollok qarrej wieħed biss. Il-mod kif il-privat (blogg kważi bħala djarju) u l-pubbliku (blogg bħala pjattaforma għal opinjonista) saru ħaġa waħda kien ħallieni affaxxinat iżda fl-istess ħin skonċertat. Naħseb din kienet waħda mir-raġunijiet għalfejn il-blogg tiegħi kien jismu Il-kriżi u kif tegħlibha, għax bl-immedjatezza tal-blogg stajt inkejjel mil-feedback tan-nies jekk kont naf nikteb jew le. Tattika xokk biex inqum mir-raqda li kont fiha.

Kif tistgħu taraw l-esperjenza tiegħi tal-blogosfera fl-2005 kienet waħda personali. Qatt ma kelli l-ambizzjoni li nkun kummentatur politiku jew soċjali, jew xi opinjonista, bħalma hu J’accuse. Allura l-blogg tiegħi għalija sar sketch pad, u bil-mod il-mod bdejt nonqos fil-bloggati sakemm, wara ftit xhur waqaft. Nista’ nsemmi li fl-istess waqt kelli blogg ieħor, anonimu, jismu Mill-Art (http://mill-art.blogspot.com/) fejn aktarx kont iktar għal qalbi, u fejn stajt nesprimi iżjed dak li nħoss. Mhux ta’ b’xejn in-nies iktar dan il-blogg jiftakru milli l-kriżi. Għaliex kien iżjed ġenwin, talinqas fl-opinjoni tiegħi.

Fl-aħħar, nixtieq infakkarakom f’żewġ bloggejja minn dik l-ewwel epoka li m’għadhomx magħna. Talinqas wieħed minnhom żgur li mhuwiex, għax miet (http://tal-frak.blogspot.com/), u l-ieħor jiġuni suspetti kbar li għamel suwiċidju (http://missubkonxjublatwissija.blogspot.com/). Blogg ta’ persuna li mietet hija xi ħaġa tat-tkexkix, bejn mawsulew u katavru li ma jiġix midfun. Nagħlaq b’ dan il-ħsieb.

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Festschrift 2012

toni sant – toni sant’s blog

Toni was probably bored of blogging by the time the first critical mass of bloggers had formed (or as Gybexi put it “feeeetħu blooog”). Toni turned slowly from detached blogger to a regular on the scene thanks to his “Muzika Mod Iehor” podcast that turned out to be much more of a regular occasion than his random spurts of blog posts. Whether he likes it or not Toni remains a reference point in the blogosfera …. the Simpsons have Apu in his Kwik-E-Shop and we have Toni, with his Muzika-Mod-Iehor….

Jacques’s Earned a Day Off
———————-

In thinking about this seemingly meaningless milestone for J’accuse I keep coming back to two central ideas:

1. Just like s/he who laughs last, it’s irrelevant that I started my own blog before J’accuse. To many it seems like my blog is no longer active simply because I no longer use it to get things off my chest or comment about things that few really care about.

2. This milestone is not as meaningless as it seems at face value. Or is it?

Perhaps it’s like the old fable of the tortoise and the hare. Perhaps it isn’t. I mean, the J’accuser is certainly no tortoise and yet here we are all these years later and he’s still on the frontline of the Maltese blogosphere. Plied with enough red wine, I’d even be tempted to say that J’accuse is the Maltese blogospere, particularly in light of the fact that the rise of social media babble through FB and the like has rendered the elaborate art of blogging more irrelevant than it ever really was to most readers.

In spite of all this, to my mind there’s no doubt that blogging is a privilege that has come to all free minded individuals who no longer need an intremediary to get their voices heard. Whether anyone cares to listen is a whole other matter, of course. I am dis/heartened (delete as applicable, depending on the situation) by the fact that some good points raised by people who have traditional platforms to present their ideas from fall by the wayside as if they were never uttered in public anyway, regardless of the communication platform they use.

One such such fabulous pronouncement was made recently by Lou Bondi and others – i.e. political parties in Malta should not take up any of the radio and tv spectrum for their propaganda machines. It is one point where Bondi, KMB, and Franco Debono agree fully. Were I as prolific a blogger as the J’accuser (or at least as much as I was back when blogging was new to the Maltese blogsphere) I would have probably made much of this ideological u-turn by one of Malta’s political babble masters and some the most maginalized mainstream politicans in recent memory. As things stand, however, I think any intervention from me (or any other blogger) would have been as effective as celebrating whatever milestone we’re marking for J’accuse right now.

Having said all this, I’m now off to rewatch the 500th epidsode of The Simpsons, which declares itself as “the most meaningless milestone of all!” as soon as you see the series logo on your screen.

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Festschrift 2012

immanuel mifsud – il-blobb tas-sibt filghaxija

I only met Immanuel for the first time at the Frankfurt International Book Fair last year. Until then Immanuel was a series of labels – virtual and reported. Besides being an acclaimed author, Immanuel was also this reference point on the blogosphere – something like a Maltese version of the east European authors who I had always pictured as dark. gloomy and depressing. It is the obligation of the wordsmith to tell the story as he sees it. Oftentimes the crudeness of the product is painful to the reader – even objectionable. Immanuel makes you sit up in shock and then, as the goosebumps begin to settle, you tend to remark: “Oh. Right”. Immanu-el… now let’s skip the idolatry and get down to his post:

IL-QRARA TA’ NARĊISSU

Storja (vera):

Is-seklu għoxrin. Is-snin erbgħin. Wieħed raġel semilitterat għandu għarusa semilitterata wkoll. Forsi minħabba t-tensjoni tat-Tieni Gwerra Dinjija (għaddejja fl-aqwa tagħha), il-biża’, il-preżenza prominenti tal-Mewt, jibgħat kartolina lill-għarusa. Fiha mhemm xejn miktub. Mad-dawra hemm daqs nofs ċentimetru bizzilla, fin-nofs hemm qalb imdawra bil-ward aħmar u f’nofs il-qalb hemm figura ta’ tfajla liebsa libsa u ġuvni liebes il-ġlekk u l-ingravata. Xi erbgħin sena wara din il-kartolina titfaċċa minn imkien. It-tifla tal-koppja (miżżewġa, familja, tfal tat-tfal u t-tfal tagħhom) issib din il-kartolina u taqla’ ċamata għaliex għall-omm dak huwa dokument privat li ma kellha ebda dritt tarah, turih, tmissu. Il-kartolina ngħatatilha b’sinjal ta’ mħabba u bħala dokument intimu.

Tliet Stejjer (veri):
12 ta’ Jannar 2012.

Fuq Facebook L.Milne kitbet lil C.DeBono: “Where are you based at the moment, gorgeous shag muffin?”
C.DeBono wieġbet nofs siegħa wara: “London, you sexicious mound of quivering love pudding…let’s meet up and talk nonsense xx”
Biex imbagħad L.Milne wieġbet lura: “Ohhhhh indeed – I will be down at some point this month! Let’s get naughty!!!!! Xxxxxxxxx”

12 ta’ Frar 2012
Dejjem fuq Facebook, Krista A., qamet kmieni u kitbet: is is glad that Her baby Really ENJOYED hi$ Valentine’s Gifts :’) ♥♥
I LoveeYouuuu Daniel (: xXx
Ħdejn il-messaġġ kien hemm indikat li dan intbagħat minn “Near Luqa”.

Nataxa mitilha l-maħbub f’daqqa. Wara xhur għadha tiktiblu fuq il-wall tal-Facebook tiegħu u ttella’ ritratti tagħha fil-banju nofsha mgħottija bil-bżieżaq tas-sapun. Fit-tmien anniversarju minn mindu bdew joħorġu flimkien, kitbitlu: “. D.you are so far away. And so close. As always. I am crying. Come back to me.”

Ma’ dawn ix-xbihat, uħud mill-1271 ħabib li għandi fuq il-FB tiegħi tellgħu ritratti tagħhom qegħdin 1) jiżżewġu; 2) jitbewsu; 3) jimteddu fuq is-sodda tal-lukanda li qagħdu fiha meta marru Londra għax-xiri u dik tal-farmhouse li qagħdu fiha meta marru l-karnival tan-Nadur; 3) jixxemxu bil-bikini li kienu għadhom kemm xtraw minn Tas-Sliema; 4) jimitaw lil Charlie’s Angels; 4) jitrekknu mal-ħajt b’daharhom u b’ħarsithom lejn il-kamera, 5) iħarsu lejn il-mera tat-twaletta tal-kamra tas-sodda tagħhom waqt li huma stess jippuntaw id-digital camera lejn il-mera u jikklikkjaw dik il-buttuna; 6) juru pala waħda ta’ saqajhom (ħafna jew b’żarbun b’takkuna pencil/stiletto) flimkien ma’ ċirku ta’ paliet tas-saqajn ta’ nies oħrajn; 7) iserrħu l-pala ta’ idejhom fuq mejda bi dvalja tal-bizzilla t’Għawdex made in China biex juru l-aħħar sett dwiefer foloz impittra; 8) f’pożi suġġestivi jekk mhux kompromettenti oħra.

Foucault kien diġà tkellem fuq is-soċjetà konfessjonali fis-snin sebgħin. Tassew nixtieq inqajmu mill-mewt u forsi anki niftaħlu kont fuq il-FB ħa nara xi tkun ir-reazzjoni tiegħu għall-konfessjonaliżmu stil Seklu 21. Appuntu, l-isfukar bejn il-privat u l-pubbliku, l-internet bħala għajn kbira li tinċitana nkunu privati dejjem aktar fil-pubbliku dejjem aktar, huma wħud mill-fehmiet li Foucault kien lemaħhom f’tekniki ta’ poter oħrajn. Ma’ dan il-konfessjonaliżmu, jew inkella minħabba fih, tispikka l-personalità narċissistika tal-bniedem tat-triq taż-żminijiet tal-lum: mhux biss il-konfessjonijet għal kollox inutli fuq il-FB u t-Twitter, imma wkoll – ġaladarba ngħixu fl-era tal-immaġni u fl-aċċessibilità diġitali – ir-ritratt li neħtiġuh biex jiddokumenta, jew jikkonferma l-qrara.

Xi darba, il-qrar kien isir fil-konfessjonarju, fis-sodda matrimonjali, f’xi karozza bil-ħġieġ imtappan tittarraf mal-Irdum Dingli. Illum il-konfessjonarju żżarma, is-sodda ħarġet fil-ġnien, ul-ħġieġ tal-karozzi m’għadux jittappan.

Nixtieq nifraħ lil Jacques li ssaporta u għadu jissaporti l-istorbju kollu fix-Xibka u nifraħlu li għadu mhux qed ibati mit-tniġġiż tal-ħoss madwar l-Akkuża.

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Festschrift 2012

david friggieri – lanzarote

Armed with quotes from Houellebecq and other wankellectuals, Friggieri stepped into the blogosfera in a desperate attempt at defining the Maltese psyche. The examiner became the studied as the inescapable traits of the fishpond mentality provided a whirlpool of unwelcome distractions. Lanzarote became a distant island – whether it was because the kitchen was too hot or because the table’s food was too appetizing we will only know when Friggieri decides to resume regular blogging.  

Uno scontro di civilta’

 “The internet has actually had the opposite effect of what one would have hoped for. Instead of becoming the means of opening the mind, it has become a tool for the release of anger and personal animosity…”*

“No mean feat” is the expression I chose to congratulate Jacques for seeing his j’accuse project through infancy, toddlerhood and into late childhood. I read in the French music magazine Les Inrocks that television programmes have something in common with cats – you must multiply their age by five to calculate their equivalent human age. I suggest applying a similar formula to establish the effort required to keep alive any vaguely intellectual Maltese project which doesn’t draw its lifeblood from the dominant discourse. Using this formula, Alternattiva Demokratika should be celebrating its centenary, Brikkuni are well into adulthood while Alex Vella Gera’s Li Tkisser Sewwi has already been with us for a decade. Mark-Anthony Falzon described the mechanics of why this might be so in this article. Every band, every publisher, every political party is obliged to ask itself the crucial existential questions: Why am I doing this? Does anyone give a damn? And in the case of those who operate outside the confines of the dominant discourse, a perhaps more insidious doubt inevitably plants itself into the minds of the willing few: Have my efforts brought about any change at all? We may wish to call this dilemma the Il Gattopardo moment. Looking around at the Maltese blogging scene (il-blogosfera was the word coined back then), seven years after j’accuse, xifer, books&beans, il-maqluba, toni sant, lanzarote and a few other pioneers tried their hand at shaking things up a bit, that Gattopardo moment turns into more than a passing thought or a fleeting doubt. What started out, naively perhaps, as a medium for an alternative way of describing this small world that we call Malta, has, with the exception of a few pockets of resistance, settled along the familiar, depressing but still relevant, battle lines. Huis Clos (No Exit), as Sartre would put it. For this reason alone, those pockets of resistance – and j’accuse remains an important one of them – should be saluted.

(*Malta does the absurd as well as any other place on Earth. The quote, above, is taken from an article by Daphne Caruana Galizia, The Malta Independent, 8 March 2012)

David Friggieri (whose lanzarote blog died a natural death sometime in 2008 or 2009)

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Festschrift 2012

mark vella – xifer: il-blogg mit-truf

Lunchtime. And time for Mark Vella, the man who made the mistake of egging me on to start blogging. It’s ages ago now but we quickly settled around the big arguments and little commonalities. Could we illude ourselves that it was a thesis and an antithesis? What about all that discourse about chips and class and political snobbism and liberal elite? We whispered them in our ivory boxes when blogging was still a matter between friends. Now we laugh as we see those arguments repeated on the mainstream media and third or fourth generation blogs – and all the while they think that they are saying something new.

Seba’ snin ilu. Qatt ma ktibt daqs kemm ktibt dak iż-żmien. Dan hu żmien il-banana, mela seba’ snin ilu, fejn kull nifs li tieħu kien ikebibislek moħħok ġamra u idejk jikwu jridu jiktbu. Dak li tħoss l-ewwel. Dak li taħseb, forsi wara. Il-banana, wara Ammaniti, dak li jinkiteb meta ma jkollokx x’tikteb, dak li jinkiteb meta l-kittieb tirmazzalu idu, bħal issa, bħal dal-ħin, fejn is-seba’ snin ta’ Jacques bilkemm naf humiex tfakkira kiefra tan-nixfa ta’ ktibieti jew dehxa ħafifa ġejja bla mistennija lejn is-swaba’ kull ma jmur dejjem iħaffu fuq it-tastiera. Eżatt bħal seba’ snin ilu, kemm ktibt dak iż-żmien, fl-ewwel appartament li krejt, il-kompjuter fuq armarju baxx metall aħmar Ikea, mhux skrivanija li titfa’ saqajk taħtha, imma b’irkobbtejja laġenba u dahri mħatteb għal fuq laptop imqiegħed fil-baxx wisq għat-tul ta’ ġismi, waqt li nliġġem in-nervi tal-elettriku tal-kitba b’sigarett irammad minn ħalqi jien u nżegleg fuq siġġu jdur.

Mhux bħal-lum, fejn l-appartament mod ieħor, għax tkun mingħalik li anki l-ħajja ġejja mod ieħor, u li biex tikteb trid fejn tikteb, post speċjali,  fejn tista’ taħseb tikkonċentra toħloq. Mhux bħal lum, fejn nerġa’ nixtieq, bħal ma darba xtaqt u kelli u arrali, imma xorta tibqa’ tixxennaq, għal kamra kollha tiegħi, u ħin kollu kollu kollu tiegħi, fejn nista’ nilgħab tal-kittieb (mhux inkun, fl-aħħar mill-aħħar, imma le, nilgħabha ta’…) u hemm żgur għad nikteb kull ma għandi f’moħħi u niktbu sew. Mhux bħal fiż-żmien tal-bloggs. Dak kien biss żmien ta’ taħriġ, tant li l-blogg għadu jeżisti fix-xibka imma b’indirizz ieħor u ħadd mhu se jsibu, donni qed nistħi minn dawk iż-żminijiet fejn kont ridt tikteb kull ma tara, tisma’ u tgħix, u tkun trid tgħidu lil kulħadd, kull min lest jisma’ , kull min lest jinzertak.

Qabel il-Facebook, l-ismart marketing fejn nitteggjak u nwaħħal link biex forsi xi ħadd li jafek jaqra dak li qed taqra u li jien ħajjartek biex taqrah, għax għandi pjan ta’ kif irrid ninqara u minn min, qabel dan, qabel dan kollu….konna niftħu blogg u niktbu, niktbu, niktbu u mingħalina li qed jaqrana kulħadd u anki li mhu qed jaqrana ħadd. U mbagħad konna ngħidu ‘l xulxin b’x’qed nagħmlu, u dak li jkun jitħajjar, u jħajjar, u f’kemm ili ngħidlek sirna komunità, naqraw lil xulxin u forsi xi ħadd ieħor jaqrana. Bosta minn dawk li qed jiċċelebraw illum forsi nixfu wkoll, tiftakru kważi kollha flimkien, x’kien ġara, kif kollox miet… Forsi għax kollox għandu tmiemu, forsi għax fgajna f’xi veleni pwerili ta’ xulxin – x’qawwa kellu biċċa blogg!- forsi għax għajjejna, forsi  wħud minna tgħarwinna wisq u darba stenbaħna mistħija…

Jacques biss, soldiered on. Ftit għadni niftħu l-blogg ta’ Jacques, nammetti. Bħal ma bilkemm naf min jibbloggja daż-żmien, u ma nagħtix wisq kashom. Seba’ snin wara, kull ma nista’ ngħid huwa kemm hu ikreh meta jmut is-seher, xi kruha toqtol ħolma, imma kemm hi kurjuża din is-sensazzjoni rqiqa rqiqa rqiqa rqiqa li qisha tgħidlek biex (istja, kemm kont inħobb ngħidha din fi żmien il-bloggs) tiddisinja arazzi ġodda….

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Festschrift 2012

gybexi – inutile de degeler

The third “schrift” comes from our friend in Brussels whose nickname “gybexi” has a nickname of its own: Kurat van Buitengaats. He was the first among the invitees to call my bluff about the “festschrift in honour of”. Delusions of grandeur he called it. Of course he is right. J’accuse is neither some great academic achievement nor is it dead (touch wood). And in a way, cynical gybexi was just being his good old self. Always the one to slap us down to earth if our egos and ego-battles took us a little bit too far. Cheers Kurat…. still waiting for that home/away challenge in petanque.

Get well soon

Luxembourg-Findel, 2002/2003.

This was, for all intents and purposes, my first ‘proper’ time abroad as an adult.

In the back of the cab there was a suitcase, our suitcase, the size of your average custom-made Ghanian coffin.

I had emigrated, although like all emigrants I wasn’t really aware of this fact yet. It had hit me for  a while when my dad clumsily, and unsuccessfully, tried to negotiate our baggage allowance at the check-in desk at MIA. He asked them to show more clemency, “they’re emigrating!”. I thought about it on the flight, but it didn’t seem this was what I was doing. I wasn’t emigrating, just moving there (for what would end up being a long, long time)…

I had packed three weeks in advance. I had several printouts of ultimately useless info. I even had a map of the airport. I was so worried I made myself sick, and was so sick at certain points I saw auras of colour around objects.

The hostel, which was to be our home for about a week, was in a small but beautiful valley. Since I wasn’t that into nature in those days, of far greater interest to me was the commuter train. It was visible from our dorm room whenever it rumbled past; a frequent reminder of the urbanity and exploration awaiting me when I’d stop vomiting naked elves and seeing sacred geometric shapes in my apple juice.

I had been putting off the visit to the hospital, mainly for financial reasons and also because we didn’t really speak French, but as I was getting increasingly delirious I guess I had no choice. They gave me inordinately large and expensive pills, big red triangles, which whittled me down to only mildly crazy in a few days (it would take another two weeks for me to recover from that mother of all flus).

In the meantime we found an unremarkable studio flat with 80s furniture near the train station, vacated by a Spanish girl who had died on a skiing holiday three days before. I didn’t really mind that, although maybe I should have.

I knew Luxembourg was expensive, but the money I had saved up was gone in a few days. I was sick and practically destitute in one of the world’s healthiest and wealthiest nations. So, this is what being a bohemian feels like? Overrated as fuck.

I walked to the phone booths opposite the train station, finding a cabin sufficiently far away from the cadavers who used the booths to shoot up. I was going to call my parents to wire me some cash to get by, but then I thought better of it. I thought of my mother worrying herself sick about us and my dad scoffing (and pretending he’s not worried, even though he is). No.

We lived on nothing but noodles, until A. started working and she asked them for an advance. I worked in the private sector so no advances for me. We opened an account and the Italian clerk at our bank trusted us enough to open a loan account for us (we bought real food – not the ‘Chinese soldier camping on Jupiter’ shit we had eaten for days).

There really weren’t many other Maltese – two as far as I knew – and I worked in the private sector, so my Luxembourg experience was a considerably poorer and more solitary experience than many of the other Maltese who moved there. It also featured lots of medical visits and waiting around perusing shitty magazines in government ministries since Malta was not yet an EU member state when I got there. Luckily, it was fairly easy to make friends with the people at work and even a few Luxembourgers didn’t find the idea of befriending me intolerable.

I had started blogging, and came across Bollettino della Sfigha. It was an extremely exciting moment. Amusing, interesting, often witty and written in an arcane Maltese which made it all the more endearing. It gave me the impetus to carry on at a time when I felt it might be a bit pointless. And then they came. Invading Blogspot. Feeeetħu bloooggg… the lot of them.

And was I happy they did! The blogs were very much a product of their time, but they were – in my view – the best contemporary Maltese literature we had. They were honest and immediate, among other things.

They died not only because of Facebook, but because they were based on boredom, loneliness or both. Here we were in new lands, in new jobs and negotiating many new social paradigms. We also had more time to kill after work, so were more willing to experiment. Maybe the blogs were a way to connect and also advertise our existence. That we were still alive and our brains still functional (more or less) at a time and in a place where everything else changed around us, and that the minutiae of these profound changes in our lives are maybe worth relating.

I, for one, would love to see them back, now that they’re not needed. They’d be an exercise in futility and in writing at length at a time when brevity is a truism rather than another style of writing. We need them… because we don’t.