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J'accuse : Tunnel vision indeed

Much as I respect Chris Said and his work, I cannot help thinking that the whole “let’s build a tunnel from Malta to Gozo” is the latest in a series of red herrings commissioned specifically by Gonzi’s PN. Ever since the hullabaloo about the Coupé Convertible Opera House subsided, there has been a desperate scramble for another controversy of the pointlessly popular kind. I was worried for a second that the Nationalists would resort to streaking MPs in Parliament just for the sake of not having to get down to the nitty-gritty of resolving the Gordian knot of divorce (Gordian from a conservative point of view). Instead we get “an immediate, in-depth technical and financial assessment of the tunnel idea”.

It sounds so Yes, Minister, doesn’t it? Actually “in-depth” studies are step five of the 12-step delaying tactics as described by Sir Humphrey (the full list being: informal discussions, draft proposal, preliminary study, discussion document, in-depth study, revised proposal, policy statement, strategy proposal, discussion of strategy, implementation plan circulated, revised implementation plans, and cabinet agreement). Needless to say, most ideas drown somewhere along the way, never to resurface – the mere supporting of the idea having won the relevant minister the necessary brownie points in his constituency.

I may have mixed feelings about the tunnel myself, but I will not be drawn into discussing the usefulness of a €150 million project right now. This is not to say that the project might merit discussion at some point in time in future and wealthier days (‘future’ being the key word here). The feeling I get is that, notwithstanding His Master’s Voice’s efforts to prod its readers into discussing this project, it has been given as much serious consideration as the fact that Malawi’s government is about to outlaw farting in public.

In the dark

I don’t know why they bothered with this tunnel business, really. I mean, the rules of the game perforce mean that we are constantly given the choice of bulk buying plus one (that makes it two products and only two) when it comes to election options. Right now, all Gonzi’s PN have to worry about, come election time, is that they are seen to be a better solution for government than the PL. Easy-peasy really, since Joseph Muscat has been all over the place trying to dispel any leftover worries that he could actually be the chosen one.

We have already assessed his sensibility on the international scene, thanks to his brainwave regarding tourism theft from the ailing Maghreb and Mashrek. This week we also learnt that the brand new Labour’s election manifesto will be drawn up by an old hat of the tried and tested variety. It’s not a question of character assassination, as the victims of criticism are so ready to point out these days, it’s a question of a running curriculum vitae and, frankly, Karmenu Vella’s doesn’t quite fit the bill, does it?

For all their talk of grass root openness and discussion, both parties are really milking the constitutional advantage of a virtual numerus clausus on parliamentary representation. The Nationalist Party discusses basic issues and projects behind closed doors, leaving the Academy for the Development of a Democratic Environment (AZAD) floundering as a token think tank, while Labour commissions the one-man authorship of an election manifesto, completely ignoring the fact that it is supposed to have a fledgling think tank of its own that should supposedly be the prime contributor at this stage (Fondazzjoni IDEAT).

Double insularity?

The tunnel project would end Gozo’s supposed affliction (personally, I think of it as benediction) of double-insularity but, unfortunately for the Gozitans, they will only be linked to Malta and I doubt whether there is any truth in the idea that this would limit the “sister island’s” insularity. Certain mentalities are hard to ditch and a tunnel to the land of partisan crassness loses much of its charm, doesn’t it? That hundreds of Labour’s partisans stood by Joseph Muscat’s rant about Egypt and Tunisia says much about how far the core voter base will stick to their party, come hell or high water. They were not being asked to vote against him, mind you, just disagree. Yet the only answer I came across was “even the Nationalists took advantage of Greece by making a profit on the loans”.

Really? Which part of “all of Europe lent money to the Greeks” did these Labourites miss? Did they not notice that Joseph’s position sticks out as madly as a Mintoff position in his heyday and makes us look like complete jerks? Or they probably did, and the similarity brought out misty-eyed feelings of nostalgia that further compounded the sad truth that we are really two realities living on one island and that there is no way out – no, not even with a tunnel to Pozzallo.

Underwater

The divorce position has forced hitherto unseen cracks in the modus operandi of both parties. For the first time we are seeing the possibility of parties “taking a position” on an issue without, however, binding their members to vote one way or another in Parliament. Cake and eating it comes to mind. Although Malta’s myriad experts and thinkers have rushed to the Pavlovian reflex of drawing up the pro and anti tribes in a jiffy, the divorce question has, more than any other issue, exposed the limits of ‘umbrella politics’ within both parties. It was the ‘anything goes’ policy of the Nationalist Party candidate selection before the election (not to mention the Mistra Crusade and JPO’s crocodile tears with the whole party behind him) that led them into this unprincipled corner.

Needless to say, progressive Joseph is as progressive as Karl Marx in his coffin for the very same reason. Too many contradictory strands of politics (if they may be called politics) are harboured within his party. The magic number of 50 per cent plus one haunts the PLPN in every step of their operation. They are constantly too fixated with garnering votes to be able to concentrate on the politics. Sure, the Daphnes of this world can croon that better a haphazard government of the relative majority than a throwback to Mintoff’s Club once again, but the truth remains that both parties are spineless when it comes to being principled representatives (bar anything short of miraculous happening next Thursday in the PN camp).

Yes, Austin is right. A party should take a position based on its principles and that should be a condition for membership of the party and for contesting elections within the ranks of the party. If JPO leaves the PN ranks and keeps his seat in Parliament, the PN cannot cry foul: they backed him ferociously (and unfairly) to get into Parliament and, lest they misread the Constitution, it is his seat, not theirs.

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Building bridges?

For reasons completely unrelated to J’accuse’s bias towards a multi-party environment, I strongly believe that AD’s strength this time around is its consistency on yet another social issue. AD has been pro-divorce and has no qualms about declaring it. Notwithstanding the dearth of manpower and the unfortunate lack of plucky charisma that constantly plagues the party, AD has proven to be the only party in Malta that is able never to compromise its principles for votes. I argued this week on the blog that, given the dearth of principled parties in our politics, this might be the time for AD to aspire higher than simply being a third party. It is the time for AD to aspire to become a main party in its own right – to the detriment of one of the other two, of course. Unfortunately, the voting public has proved to be as discerning a public as a gathering of Inter supporters, which means that we are heading straight down the tunnel of unprincipled representation, come 2013.

Outside, in the real world, Jordan seems to be next in line in the wave of revolutions in the Arab world. The Egyptian movement has given us a new twist. For the first time, social networking on the Internet reacted to the revolutions and not vice versa. With the Internet down, Google collaborated with Twitter in order to allow Egyptians to tweet via phone lines. An interesting development – it is these times of revolution that could provoke a speedier change than we are already witnessing.

That’s all this week from gloomy Luxembourg.

www.akkuza.com – daily blogging for free public consumption.

ADDENDUM:

And his Master’s Voice is fast at work, eager to dispel the idea that this is just an exercise in mental entertainment. The Times carried an article yesterday entitled “Gozitans welcome tunnel idea”. Well J’accuse welcomes the idea too but does not believe the timing. On the other hand you really have to ask what made the Times dish out the superlatives such as:

“Massive support for the proposal was shown this morning but it was pointed out that Gozitans should have a very big say in the decision. They proposed a referendum in Gozo to see where Gozitans stood on the issue.”

Really? So what exactly is the “massive support” if a referendum is needed? then the GRTU came out strongly in favour of the tunnel. If you consider Vince Farrugia a strong unbiased voice that is. On the other hand, if you remember that Vince was part of the umbrella coalition for MEP votes then you might think again. The Times’ eagerness to shower plaudits was unbridled:

Some of the organisations in Gozo had already appointed sub-committees to work on the proposal, while a survey held by the GTA found had 90 per cent support of members of the Gozo Tourism Authority.

I bet the Xewkija Tigers social committee got an early head start on that one. And you’ve got to love the survey by the GTA (Gozo Tourism Authority) that obtained 90% support of the … wait for it… Gozo Tourism Authority.

As for copying Nordic countries, the last time we experimented with their ideas in the Fliegu we ended up with flat bottomed boats that were ideal for fjords but that rocked like crazy whenever the Libeccio was here to stay.

Could do better.

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J'accuse : Memor et Fidelis

Last Thursday I flew to Malta from Brussels on an Air Malta flight. Having braved the trials and tribulations of the Brussels ring and having risked being stuck in the suburb of Zaventem (GPS alternative routes are not always fortunate), I enjoyed the comfort of a flight and meal on our oft wrongfully maligned airline. There’s nothing like an Air Malta pampering at economy class level to soothe the nerves after a tumultuous drive.

This last minute visit was planned earlier the week in order to surprise my mum during the farewell celebrations that her colleagues at Stella Maris College had planned for her retirement. So there I was, armed with a newspaper and in flight magazine, trying to catch up with the news while in transit and in between warm cooked meals and sips of Kinnie. It’s impressive what a good and cheap form of in flight entertainment the paper and the magazine turned out to be.

Pornographic

Divorce and mafia-like shootings aside, it seems that the next best thing to read about in the Maltese media are two − not too unrelated − court cases. The first deals with the owner of City Lights Cinema who has been charged (again) with the screening of hard porn (is it like water? does hard mean more calcium?) in his establishment in Valletta. Now correct me if I am wrong but this cinema (and the movies it shows − referred to in common parlance only in Malta and India as “blue”) was not opened yesterday. I recall the illicit chats during break in secondary school in which some maverick senior might recount of his escapade into this den of Beelzebub sited in the midst of our capital.

And if kids knew about it then you can bet your last greasy lira that most adults did as well. So how come the police are only now suing the guy for running a cinema without a permit? Without a permit? What did they think the two signs saying “CINEMA” on the front of the City Lights Arcade represented? A prank? So yes, why pick on this milder form of release for the desperate at this point in time?

Theatrical

Which leads us straight to the case of the Romanian girl caught stripping in one of the Paceville joints. Sod the sub judice myth, I cannot hold back from commenting on this. In a very theatrical effort (that won over the court reporters), defence lawyer Arthur Azzopardi asked for a recess in order to be able to accompany the police inspector to a newsstand whence he would procure a copy of Hugh Hefner’s best (that would be Playboy). I could imagine Atticus flinch (sic). Through some logic that is only useful to the defence lawyer (and his client), we are supposed to think: if you can see nude pics on a magazine then there is nothing wrong with seeing them live.

Sure. It’s the legal equivalent of defying the laws of gravity. Imagine the same argument in a murder case in which the victim was stabbed to death in the shower. “Can I ask for a recess m’lud? I’ll just pop down to a video outlet and get a copy of Psycho. If people can see that on film then why not in the flesh?” Q.E.D. Irrespectively of whether you agree or not with the availability/legality of topless dancers, you’ve got to admit that this legality by proxy argument is really tops. So I shut the newspaper court reports for a while and switched to the in flight magazine.

Where I found not one, not two, but three adverts for “Gentlemen’s Clubs”. They do not leave much to your imagination do they these ads? One of them advertised “various services within our venue for an exciting night of entertainment”. Hmm let me see. Do they mean sanitised bathrooms? Sofas maybe? A dance floor? For heaven’s sake how naive can we pretend to be by leaving this Gentlemen’s Club and porn business in a legal vacuum? Can you blame defence lawyers for the logistical gymnastics they go through? If this society is unable to discuss the truth of broken families and couples, how much less ready is it to discuss the positives of regulating (and making available) such venues of “release” as adult cinemas and gentlemen’s clubs?

Masquerade

Can we really wonder when the platform of discussion is polluted by modern day pragmatism and relativism? Why does Austin’s Bluff even merit discussion for example? Don’t get me wrong. I applaud the politician for stating outright that he would not be comfortable in a party that actively commits in favour of divorce. I would not expect him to do otherwise. It’s the way the message was conveyed (are the press to blame again?) in a manner as to suggest that Austin is blackmailing the country with a resignation that he had already decided would happen anyway.

Even in our discussion about marriage we are still equivocal. Both the pro- and anti- movements have argued that they are in favour of marriage. Beyond that though it’s all about statistics. Have we really asked ourselves what the modern day family unit is all about? In France the discussion goes back to the 60s and the sexual revolution, the emancipation of women and the gradual loss of any semblance of childhood. We dare not expose our ugly warts and ask questions of ourselves and prefer to wave the idealistic banners of conservative utopia vs. liberal intransigence.

Our ugly warts meanwhile are free to run abroad. Malta was twice in the news in Italy this week. First the man who claims to speak to Mary caused a ruckus in the Vatican. Never did the word “fedele maltese” sound any closer to “Arabic jihadist” than it did that day. There was also the bright spark who, worried that his friends might miss the boat, called in a bomb scare for the Pozzallo ferry.

Lasallian

Forgive me an extra run on the self-imposed word limit but I must congratulate a wonderful head, teacher and mum upon her retirement after 30 years of teaching at Stella Maris College. I am happy to have flown over to share the joy of all your colleagues, students past and present, and friends in celebrating your work over three decades. I’ve only confirmed what I’ve always suspected… that I’m not the only lucky one after all and that many, many others have had the honour to have had you as a guiding light in their life.

I am proud of your achievements and on Friday I remembered what it meant to be part of a larger family that goes beyond the boundaries of the nuclear family unit. The Lasallian frères are aptly known as brothers and though they seem to be getting scarcer and scarcer, I am glad that you chose to follow your vocational calling among them and with the principles of their founder. Back in 1981 I was just a young soon to be seven-year-old when we both walked into that College for the first time − you as a teacher and me as a student − and we lived through the dark years of the “Jew b’xejn jew xejn” period with classes in garages and basements.

The thousands of students whom you have overseen might have moved on but they still retain the ties to the Lasallian spirit that created a very strong foundation for their future. Your time to rest and enjoy the fruits of your labour has come; don’t underestimate the value of this moment. Carpe diem. Meanwhile, on behalf of all of us who have crossed paths with you in your vocation, it’s definitely time to say… thank you very much Mrs Zammit.

www.akkuza.com has gone all emotional this weekend. You’ll find we are our usual cynical self on the blog.

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J’accuse: Oliver’s Twist & Other Perspectives

Almost 20 years have passed since I used to hitch rides to the university in the evening to attend a series of lectures by Professor Oliver Friggieri. If my memory serves me right, the lectures were about creative writing in Maltese but in actual fact they served as a real eye opener that went far beyond any tips on how to use your pen creatively. If you learn the benefits of learning and asking questions at the age of 16 then the world is your oyster. “Id-dinja mistoqsija, mimlija b’elf ghaliex” (“the world is a question full of a thousand ‘why’s’”).

What Prof. Friggieri imparted, among many other things, was the importance of observing the world around you, looking for clues of change as well as for the strands of similarity that occasionally get to give us a sense of identity or belonging. It was Oliver’s twist on life and it became a useful tool as life went on.

It was a pleasure to see Oliver (forgive me the first name sense of familiarity) on TV last Monday. There he was giving his take on different aspects of our life and the way we are. Are we partisan? Why? Where do we begin to look for an answer? There was that and more peppered with what I saw as the humility to declare (admit?) the limits of his comprehension. This was apparent when he was asked whether our party TV stations make us more partisan: “It’s a difficult question and I cannot answer it.” Oliver has never tired of reminding us that the world should be our reference point and nothing should be examined out of context. Twenty years may have passed but his philosophical yardstick used to see the world around him remains pleasantly reliable.

Mind the revolution

Browsing through Facebook the next day I was surprised to see a negative reaction to Oliver’s appearance on TV. The general idea was that Oliver was yet another of the mild intellectuals of the island who dance around controversy preferring the fence to the battlefield. I think that assessment is unfair. Oliver is less about controversy and criticism and more about sociological snapshots. He is less about the controversial medicine and more about the discovery of DNA and our origins. He has been observing for a long time now and is not about to pop a cigar into his mouth, grow some beard and wear military slacks while announcing the intellectual coup d’êtat on the nation’s corroded junta of partisan ignorantia.

Expecting Oliver to become Simón Bolívar is wrong. You also have to wonder exactly what kind of revolution people are expecting. We have become somewhat lax with words − something Oliver tried to explain to Lou. As an expat feeding solely on news as it is filtered, I can vouch that it is more and more difficult to fathom what is really going on in the country. When you reach a situation that a Times report is so convoluted that it could provoke a seminar of interpretations, then it is difficult to really observe and comment.

The picture is twisted beyond ken. I read an article in an English language newspaper that seemed to refer to authors generally commenting on the infamous Realtà article. Nowhere in the article could you find an indication that these were witnesses in the Magistrates’ Court. It was only after reading other papers that I understood why the likes of Maria Grech Ganado and Ranier Fsadni had decided to “revive” the subject. Then there was the reporting on the honorarium saga. What with parties wanting to spin their take, and with journalists getting half-baked reports, it was a total mess. Look at the post “Honour Among Thieves” in www.akkuza.com to see what I mean.

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Praeter intentionem

Or as Aquinas would put it − per accidens or outside the moral intention. We are becoming more and more slack with the use of our words or reporting. Most times we get the excuse that the resulting miscommunication was “not intended”. We try to define the indefinable such as “What is a real Nationalist?” after the latest manual revolutionary (from the DIY of PN backbenchers) has drawn his dividends from the D’Hondt one-man majority conundrum.

We swing between the hands of the Opposition that would love us to believe that this is the eternal battle of Rich (arrogant) vs. Poor (subject) and the gaffes of the party in government (We didn’t mean to get greedy). We fall over ourselves in asking the ridiculously sublime question of “What would Ugo Mifsud have done?”

Sadly a necessary and important debate about formulating a proper pay scale for MPs that justifies their job has been turned into a political football. The point is that while we apparently already know the answer to the question whether our politicians deserve the money they vote themselves, we fail to ask ourselves the even more important question: “Do we deserve the politicians that we elect?”

Honoraria: What lies beneath

Fausto Majistral has done a wonderful job of asking the right questions about the honoraria. Again you can find his post entitled “Honoraria: What lies beneath” in J’accuse − the blog. It’s less about whether Gonzi meant it, whether J.P. Farrugia deserved it, or whether Joseph’s Labour have really grasped the concept that it’s not theirs to donate if they pooh-poohed accepting it in the first place. It’s more about where we want

to go with our House of Representatives. Alfred Sant and Franco Debono have both made not too subtle statements about the current state of disrespect that surrounds our House of Representatives.

Something tells me that that is a lesson that our wannabe revolutionaries and half-baked political class still cannot get to terms with. We do not need saviours but a good set of servants, well paid if necessary, but servants nevertheless.

U ssirlek poezija (and it becomes a poem)

Jack Frost is back in the north of Europe and it’s a cold cold time again. It gets warmer in the living room catching up on the excellent series “Mad Men” with a smashing soundtrack (Enoch Light’s Autumn Leaves is a screamer). For the app fanatics about, I strongly recommend “Google Goggles” − watch your iPhone solve the hardest of sudokus before your eyes. One last word goes to one of the world’s latest citizens.

A big welcome goes out to baby Ella who turns eight (days) today. It’s a big, big world Ella, but if you ask the right questions you can turn it into the most wonderful of poems. At least Oliver told me so!

www.akkuza.com provides a wealth of information to the lost expats. Venture inside to interpret the mixed messages coming from the isle of milk and honey.

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J'accuse : Hermes' New Clothes

Hermes the classical Greek God − and not the modern sartorial homonym − had “messenger of the Gods” as his main job description. Clad in nowt but his birthday suit, and often depicted with wingèd limbs, his main business was supposed to be that of the transmission of information among the deities busy playing with the dice of fate and generally fornicating with the more pleasurable parts of the populace. With that in mind, and probably for reasons of expedience, the classics also made Hermes patron of such things as orators and wit, weights and measures, literature and sport and invention, as well as business in general. Think Austin Gatt but sexy when naked.

It would seem that the Olympic deities would share portfolios much like a latter-day Gonzi Cabinet − surely it was less of an attempt at saving the citizens millions of obols and more of a ploy by the priests and sibyls to garner a larger part of the worshipping business. Plus ça change. But back to Hermes, that god of communication and boundaries (and the travellers crossing them). Were we to revive the pagan practice of worshiping patron gods for every nuance in our lives, a rejuvenated Hermes would find that he has a much more challenging job cut out for him.

Proximity

The relationship between geographical distance and information has, over the past few years, been sufficiently twisted as to defy the previously simple laws of physics. Take your average battle in, say, 490 BC. Marathon − the place not the race − and the Persians have just been soundly beaten (or if you believe Herodotus and not Fantozzi then the Persians are about to be engaged) so someone needs to carry some information to someone else (again either “We Won” or “Help”). Enter Pheidippides who volunteers for the run. He goes on foot. It takes him some time and he runs naked.

Take your modern day pitched battle. Say an FA Cup match between deadly rivals Man U and Liverpool. We watch it live in HD in our sitting room. Meanwhile, a pretty miffed multimillionaire player (fully clothed) tweets at the end of the match about how referee Webb might as well have worn a Man U outfit. Thousands read Babel’s (oh so apt) missive and the player is duly fined the next day for having stepped beyond the line of the “player – referee” respectful relationship. All in a matter of minutes.

It’s weird and difficult for our generation to get accustomed to. We who grew up with geography lessons about wheat in Saskatchewan, coffee in Brazil and tea in Ceylon can barely keep up with the information overload at the tips of our fingers. The twisted physics (and geography) is such that the story of floods in Brisbane creates more affinity (what I choose to call a feeling of involvement) than that of the tumult in Tunisia. Sure, the press are to blame (or to shoulder some form of responsibility) − for if they filter the news accordingly then those of us who still depend on local mouthpieces (and by local I mean national) will never hear of General Lebled’s plight in the prisons of Sfax.

Relevance

So are we more deeply moved by the story of Christina Taylor Green, born on 11/9/01 and died in Arizona than by the deaths of civilians in the Tunisian riots? Why does the English speaking press give the Brisbane floods more coverage than those in Rio? Here’s a fact: 537 people are reported dead in Rio de Janeiro and 12,000 made homeless. Australia’s floods killed 16 people. In the weird domino of affinity and relevance you might notice that English-speaking media (and this includes new media) covered the Australian floods much more extensively than the Rio disaster.

Should we be surprised that the Maltese press found more to say about families of “Gozo extraction” (is that like a mine or something?) leaving Brisbane than about the hundreds of Cariocas losing their lives? What does surprise me is the lack of information about the Maltese caught up in the crossfire at Tunisia. Malta made it to the international news thanks to speculation that the defecting President Ben Ali might choose our shores (he preferred Dubai in the end), otherwise our proximity to the land of Carthage counted for nowt insofar as we were concerned. What to make of that?

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Content

There are benefits to this whole business of the new era of information. Gradually, society will develop new filters in which relevance is determined in different ways. It might be anybody’s guess whether the manipulators of information get their hands on those filters first. In any case the openness of the Internet that had hitherto been spreading can only be a boon. I say hitherto because challenges to this form of freedom of expression are evident in all quarters. Whether you like or hate Assange, the latest attacks on his site and supporters are signs of a new pitched battle between the former forces of media control (in the name of the general good) and the new media’s seemingly uncontainable spread.

We are faced with a challenge of working hard on our own personal filters. Armed with i-gadgets bringing us first hand tweets, links and news, we can choose to be passive or active. Hermes’ New Clothes are shiny and can be deceptive. Politicians are still learning to communicate beyond their normal reach (and to deal with the unexpected consequences). Sarah Palin’s double-whammy, thanks to her ill-advised crosshair gaffe, should be a lesson to anybody attempting to abuse the power of communication by stirring up hatred instead of informed dissent.

We can sit back and compare the truths behind Tunisian unrest and protest and Joseph Muscat’s Friday parade in Valletta. On the one hand we had a people against an oppressive regime that went beyond arrogance and lack of respect for rights. On the other hand we are witnessing the fabrication of an opportunistic Opposition that is playing with the toy of public displeasure at current economic downsides without stopping to concretely propose a new way ahead.

Fashions

What will we fashion out of the information available? Muscat mentioned investing in competitiveness. Behind the empty campaigning lies an awful truth: competitiveness is the key to Malta’s future. However, competitiveness can only be sown in a field of merit, accountability and open information. It is not Joseph’s half-baked litany of buzzwords that is needed to give some hope to this country. It is a new generation of non-PLPN politicians who can see beyond the old style propaganda and crowd stirring rhetoric.

Maybe it’s not just Hermes who needs new clothes.

www.akkuza.com invites you to see the video of Tunisia’s freedom rapper General Lebled… Et In Cartago Ego.

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J'accuse : Nihil Difficile Volenti

Between viruses and price hikes, I get the feeling that many people are approaching this period of resolutions and promises with a dampened spirit and weak will. The manner by which we calculate the passage of time has always meant that sometime around the period of 25 December (the ancient festival of Sol Invictus – the Undefeated Sun) we begin to prepare for the forthcoming new cycle. In the modern age this has also afforded us the ephemeral excuse of setting ourselves new goals with which to test our wills – the infamous New Year Resolutions.

I spent most of the period following the winter solstice in the eternal city of Rome and it was while traipsing around the palatine, somewhere close to the Domus Julia, that I felt the first signs of the influenza virus taking over my senses. For I am but human, of the male gender to boot, and everybody knows how susceptible males are to the ravaging damages of the influenza virus. Apparently it was not just me but much of Europe that was suffering the consequences of a particularly harsh attack of the bastard microbe.

Still, I got to learn new stuff while in Rome. My education would not result from the plethora of historical sites that dot the ancient city like a particularly harsh attack of the morbillivirus. Of course, they did provide an added value but my greatest lesson would come from a childhood friend who I was visiting in Rome. In between a gourmand festival at some Casale and some shopping (de rigueur) around the jam-packed vie (streets), we discussed the “whys” and “becauses” of life as in Gino Paoli’s famous song.

Accipio (accept)

My childhood friend has been my guide in Rome since I first went to visit him what seems like ages ago. He is a sworn son of the city and his allegiance to its very essence goes beyond the strongest sense of patriotism. Tattooed on one of his arms is the Latin maxim “Nihil difficile volenti” – nothing is difficult for the strong willed. During one of our myriad conversations that are the Roman equivalent of philosophy at the dinner table, he pointed out that I tend to get too hot under the collar and allow myself to be troubled by too many things.

“Your problem is that you are too smart. You cannot solve everything or change everything. We all pass through that phase. I have learnt to accept. If other people are content doing things the way they do them, then just learn to take a deep breath and accept the fact that it is their way.” I paraphrase a recollection that may be slightly blurred thanks to a few sips of Roman wine (or the ‘Centoerbe’ digestif) but the gist of what he said is there. For a moment I was stunned, almost offended. But then I understood.

It makes sense really. The ‘philosophy of acceptance’ does not mean giving up and resigning from the self-arrogated job of “agent of change” but it means accepting the ways of the world. Above all, as my friend would stress, the world can never be changed to be the way you would like it to be. This seems obvious, but most times it is not. Our constant struggle to mould everyone and everything into “how we think they or it should be” is reflected in our daily interaction. It underpins our Mediterranean style of politics, whether liberal or conservative. I am still wondering what best to do with this newly acquired insight but I have a feeling that it will have an effect of some sort on my forthcoming year.

Abeo (change)

In a way, we will have to accept many facts in 2011. We have to accept the fact that in its struggle against the monster (virtual or real?) that is the current economic crisis, the political machine will spout two answers: (1) “Austerity” is the answer given by those with their hands on the purse and (2) “Solidarity with the Poor” will be the answer of the ‘progressives’ in Opposition. Whether it is Cameron-Clegg vs Miliband or Gonzi vs Muscat, you will have to accept that these are the rules of the game for the coming months.

Faced with the rising price of the basic food basket (it’s not just Malta, you know) from bread to milk, from fuel to gas to water, the electorate will have some choices to make. It can accept that the situation demands austerity and strict management but it must also question whether the solutions offered by its politicians are genuine or knee-jerk populist. Many of us will have to accept an even greater factor than all of the above – and that is that when push comes to shove, the electorate tends to vote with its heart and not with its brain.

Nothing is difficult if you will it though. While we may learn to accept the ways of life more readily, and while we tame our more rebellious side in order to seem more balanced in our approach, there will always be those who try to achieve more. Take Thomas Cremona, the leukaemia survivor attempting the Transatlantic rowing challenge, or Sean MacGahern attempting the longest dive in open waters. Citius, altius, fortius (faster, higher, stronger) – we should also be able to accept that while most of us sit back and complain, there are a select few who are prepared to push beyond the accepted boundaries and set new standards.

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On the Street Where You Live

The Romans of old had a Via Salaria (it’s still there, by the way) – it was the road that linked Rome to the port of Ascoli, where the precious salt pans lay. Salt was an expensive commodity then, and used as a currency and also as remuneration for soldiers – hence the word ‘salary’. I wonder whether, having accepted the whole farce that is the discussion on MP honoraria (a pay increase that is definitely mistimed but not unnecessary), we should change the name of Republic Street to ‘Via Honoraria’.

Whether ‘honour’ becomes a common currency in this day and age of bandwagon politics remains to be seen.

www.akkuza.com strongly recommends La Soffitta in Piazza Risorgimento for gluten-free food while in Rome.

This article appeared in the Malta Independent on Sunday on the 9th January 2011.

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J'accuse : Be Forgot

To those who have already broken their New Year resolution. To those who are still holding on. To those who are determined to save on electricity bills. To those who are reading this in the comfort of an electric stove. To those who will wait until the Three Kings have come before starting to put away their Christmas lights and decorations. To those for whom Christmas is another word for “humbug”. To those who woke up this morning still reeling with a mild hangover from two nights before. To those who have already been to Mass and read the papers by 10am.

To those who thronged outside the newsagents exchanging New Year greetings and wishing everyone all the best. To those who sent their offspring round the corner to pick up the paper. To those who picked up a couple of pastizzi or pastries on their way to the newsagents. To those who skipped breakfast to better enjoy mum’s Sunday roast and their share of the big feast leftovers. To those who love mustard with their turkey and to those who still have not had enough of the cranberry sauce. To those who forgot to wear red underwear on New Year’s Eve and to those who never understood how people could believe such crap.

To those who think carpe diem. To those who already have fixed appointments for the 15th of August in the afternoon. To those who live to work. To those who work to live. To those who will wear out more of their travelling shoes this year and to those for whom the piazza or the promenade is their oyster. To those who double park to rush to Maxims, Champs or Sphynx for their supply of cheesecakes. To those who prefer Muscat’s pizza drenched in cheese and oil as it spills onto their shirt while they munch and drive. To those who still favour Lollies Bar and its incredible “hobzabacon” (one word, if you please). To those who will grow up switching between ftira and sushi.

To those who like me have fallen for more of the Apple products over the last year. To those who will do so in the coming year. To the poor BR who still insist that “Apple is just about the status”. To the law class of ‘99 – it was a pleasure catching up with you again these holidays. To the Saint Benild ‘75ers who are still trying to arrange a get together after all these years. To the ones who no longer spend a penny on newspapers because it is all available online. To those who still love to thumb through the real thing. To the new graduates fresh from their buscades. To the illiterate of the 21st century. To the sad fact that the more time goes by the more it seems that even the illiterate can graduate.

To the mothers and fathers of mediocrity. To the Nationalists and Labourites who still think party politics is akin to football support. To the parliamentarians and to d’Hondt and his system. To the one-seat majority and the pure entertainment it provides. To Nikki Dimech, Paul Borg Olivier, Robert Arrigo and Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando… even better than the real thing. To Daphne Caruana Galizia, Magistrate Scerri Herrera, Robert Musumeci and the plate vendors in Bidnija. To our sorry pink press and the innumerable ways in which it gets the wrong stories even wronger. To our beleaguered police force. To the up and coming “politicians” from the two big stables.

To those who have thought “sod it, there may be money in that but I still have my pride”. To those who think with their own head. To those who find thinking with other people’s head more convenient. To the fence sitters. To those who still think that there is some hope in thinking different. To Gakbu Sfigho.

To Lawrence and Joseph and to George. To their consorts. To the Archbishop and Bishop. To the pro-divorce movement. To the pro-life movement. To those who want to save the animals. To those who want to save the birds. To those who want to save their right to express themselves. To all kinds of journalists from the most sincere to the most biased. To Lou Bondi. To Peppi and his crew. To the indefatigable Reno Bugeja and Dissett. To those who would definitely eat rabbit every day. To those who think it’s just a furry little defenceless animal. To those who insist Flyunfair is a cheap alternative. To those who would rather get what they pay for and fly Air Malta.

To the fellow columnists of this paper. To the colleagues in the “rival” Sundays. To the elves and trolls posting comments all over the place. To those of you who have read through every single one of last year’s J’accuse columns. To those who rightly insist it’s a tad too long for their taste. To the programmes that are already streamed online. To Tim Berners Lee for the window he created for expats to look into the goings on while away from home.

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To Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando for once again being the most talked about personality and pulling off his second J’Accuse Personality of the Year. To the protagonists of Plategate and to Austin Powers Gatt for their respective second and third slots. To tweeters and facebookers for making this world a smaller place. To tweeters and facebookers for making the global village a tad bit more claustrophobic. To tea in the piazza with a view at Mellieha and to a stroll down Republic Street just before the shops close. To the Baywatch pensioners in Qbajjar and to the great service at Arkadia. To Kinnie and Twistees.

To another year of J’accuse and to David, Noel and Rupert for the quick exchanges every Friday. To Lara for all those Friday nights waiting for the article writing to be done. To all of you for bearing with this wankellectual nonsense churned out on a weekly basis. To the shorter articles starting from this week. To all that and more.

Wishing you all a magnificent 2011.

www.akkuza.com comes to you live from the Eternal City at the start of 2011 – our lucky year.

This article appeared in The Malta Independent on Sunday on the 2nd January 2011.