Tag: akkuza

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Blogspot Retro J'accuse

9 years – online in 2014

nine_akkuzaMarch 2005. There was a lot of pope about the internet then. Mugabe’s presence at some ceremony got pride of place in the blog commentary though there was no mispronunciation of the word “caso” to set the social media alight. Did I say social media? In March 2005 youtube.com was barely a month old and Facebook was probably just a hint of an idea in some Harvard college.

Then was the time of insanabile cacoethes scribendi – the incredible urge to write. We blogged because we liked to blog and more than that we blogged because we could. Blogging as a mainstream thing had just begun its second decade of existence and was still in the process of causing some tremors in the online landscape. The MSM (mainstream media) reacted to blogs, almost indignantly pooh-poohing the independent army of keyboard freaks who had opened a huge crack in the world of “controlled media”.

Nine years ago blogs might have been an interesting way to get an immediate, independent take on the information going around the web. The thing is that most of that information was still in the domain of the old sources of information. Newspapers, TV and news groups had by then shifted to the net and there slant was not being complemented by the army of bloggers. Blogging was the thing to do… up until the blogger was awarded the Time Personality of The Year. A prize we will long cherish.

Then came social media – particularly facebook and twitter. Information – the sources of information – was multiplied to the nth degree and the power to comment upon anything was also disseminated exponentially. A biting blog post, a review, an insight – that became too slow. The age of clicktivism and clickteraction meant that blogs would be superseded by the outbursts of “trends” and “status updates”. The role of the blog – the real, old style blog – was changing and it was changing fast.

There was also a crucial moment with the rise and crash of Wikileaks and its founder. We learnt in one fell swoop how frugally the “truth” had been treated over all these years. Bloggers could not be so ambitious as to hope to be the guardians of independent and true scrutiny. When the veil of untruth was uncovered by Wikileaks it was already too late. Online meant a web of lies and truths confusingly intertwined. The consumer was not really in control. The netizen was living in denial.

Bloggers can still thrive. There is still a sense in blogging though it is a little different to that in 2005. As J’accuse turns nine we are aware that this medium required redefining and rebuilding. In the world of artificial intelligence and online tautologies spewed by the multitude on facebook and twitter the blog might serve the purpose of an anchor and reference point. I may be wrong. The time for this blog to wind up might have long come and gone.

This might be a blog that is in denial. There might be no place for this kind of reflection in this world of judge, jury and expert executioner by status update and commentary. Then again this might just be the very reason to kick off a new season with a new ambition and purpose.

This is the truth, if I lie.

Categories
Campaign 2013

Għid Banana

Biċċa xogħol ħelwa ta’ Cedric Vella. Qed intellagħha hawn fuq pjattaforma li qalgħet daqqa sew minħabba l-popolarita u populiżmu popolari ta’ facebook. Iva konna kwieti. Saħansitra nirċievu posta mingħand facebook u wordpress jistaqsuna għala ma tellajna xejn f’din l-aħħar ġimgħa. Tinkwetawx – mhux li inkwetati. Għadna hawn. Qed nagħmlu ftit reset kemm personali kif ukoll ‘professjonali’ fil-qasam tal-blogs.

Cedric għamel pastiche. Samples ħelwin li ma huma mużikali xejn pero xorta jirnexxilhom idewwquna t-togħma qarsa tal-massa politika maltija. Dik li għandna u dik li se nkomplu nitwekkew biha. Kif qed jitkellem dwar politika J’accuse? Tafu intom. Il-kazz mhux opinjoni u riflessjoni soċjali mhux neċessarjament politika. Issa li wara biss ġimaghtejn gvern effettiv u mingħajr ebda miżura ġdida sparixxew il-kjujiet fil-Casualty Mater Dei ikollok tibda taħseb li soċjalment kollox qed isir possibli. Jekk il-ħalba xita li jmiss ma jfurx il-wied tafu lill min għandkom tirringrazzjaw. U jekk ma tafux ifakkrukom b’xi press release.

Sadattant is-Sebħ ta’ Malta ġdida qed ngħixuh b’forom ġodda ta’ attentati ta’ ċensura mentali. Issa jekk tikkritika ifisser li inti frustrat, għajjur u ma fhimtx il-messaġġ. Ifisser li Malta ma hix tiegħek ukoll u ħaqqek l-għadab ta’ dawk li għadhom qed jistħu biss minn ġewwa ta’ kemm belgħuha sal-gerżuma.

Din ma hix politika sieħbi. Dan post dwar il-ħajja. Ceci n’est pas une pipe. 

Mela ħudu dan il-memento vivi tal-politika maltija bi pjaċir. U ippermettuli infakkarkom li s-satira vera li ma tbiegħx ruħha għada ħajja fir-Repubblika tal-Banana (paġna facebook) u li sakemm jasal żmien iktar bnazzi J’accuse qiegħed jirrikmandalkom blog politiku mniedi minn fatat f-kemmuna (Comino Republic / ukoll fuq facebook). Moreh nebhukin… u ifmuh.

U fejn ma tafux u ma tifhmux… għidu banana.

Categories
Retro J'accuse

Immigrants & Refugees (Utopia)

Anniversaries are also a time to look back at what we have done. I’ve decided to pull a series of posts from J’accuse’s past into a new rubrique called “Retro J’accuse”. This first one remains a topical issue. It deals with the way we treat immigrants in our country and was prompted by a Sunday Times of Malta editorial that, how can I put it, was not exactly brilliant. From March 27 2006 – here’s Immigrants & Refugees:

Imagine a day not very far from this one. Imagine that you have packed your suitcase with the absolutely necessary and that you are in line to get onto a plane out of the country. The country that is now called Ave Melita (yes they would probably name it something that stupid) is no longer your home. The government’s latest policy is called “Min ma joghgbux jitlaq” and you have taken one of the last places available in this scheme and you are heading to a new life into another country that you will have to call home – away from the sun, sea and Xarabank that you loved so much.

You could not stay. Your conscience did not allow you to stay silent infront of measures like “Malta tal-Maltin (suwed barra)” and the latest one called “Dissoluzzjoni tal-Ordni tal-Gizwiti”. You collected your papers from the Centru Nazzjonali tal-Purifikazzjoni, the former Jesuit College in Birkirkara, and sped with haste to the airport with tears in your eyes. Your stomach still has to be emptied on a regular basis as you adjust to the new reality and you see the same empty, desperate look in the fellow passengers of this forced abortion of nationals. You still cannot bring yourself to explain what has happened in your country and why you have to leave it so fast. But you have no time to do so. You have to begin to adjust to the new country.

The new country is not like those Mediterranean pits that were reserved for the boat people. Like them, it knew you were coming. Unlike them it did not reserve a hastily built slum for you to call as home. You live in a former army barrack but your tiny room has running water, electricity and there is even a communications and technology room for all immigrants to keep contact with the world. Morale is low – no one wanted to be here. The authorities try to be accomodating and to relieve the greatest troubles. They create a scheme for economic support. Different jobs in the local market are made available. Unlike the Mediterranean nightmares that you used to read about you are to be allowed to scrape away a little earning in order to be self-sufficient and be able to hope for brighter days.

When you venture out into the street , the locals are understanding. Although your complexion is very much like those of the terrorists who bombed and targeted their nation with violent attacks at train stations and on buses, very few make the quick and illogical assumption that you could be of the same ilk. You are offered lifts to work. You join the local carpool and although you are not working as the University Professor that you were in Malta, your life as a shoe salesman in this little town allows you to live with dignity even though your career and dreams have been put on hold.

Then one day a local radical paper falls into your hands. Your eyes cannot believe what they see. They seem to have caught up with you. Those bungling buffoons who were in power in Malta seem to have found a foothold even in this welcoming state, here is what they say:

“Surely, there are ways of keeping them busy and alleviating their boredom. For example, they should help, in their own interest, to keep toilets clean. Also, could not some scheme of putting them to work on public cleaning projects, under strict supervision, and for a small allowance, improve things? There are many jobs they could be given – God knows the island needs a massive sprucing up! The scheme could start with a few small groups, and eventually expanded. Naturally it must be ensured that at the end of their day’s work, they return to “base”.” source

 

In this new country you had been allowed to find a job through an Immigrant Job Assistance scheme. In Malta they wanted to turn immigrants into Chain Gangs. Desperate beings who had reached the lowest of the turningpoints in their life, who had abandoned their family and the little social sustenance they had in the hope of a new life would be used to spruce up the island under strict supervision.

You discard the paper and turn on the TV in your room – the one you just bought with the money put aside from your first two months’ salary.

They will be everywhere. The intolerant, the coocooned as well as the well-meaning bumblers. You remember that massacres in India and Africa under the colonial regime were prompted by well-meaning actions of the Evangelical communities who intended to civilise the misbelieving miscreants. And you begin to notice how some things never change. How difficult it is to achieve genuine tolerance based on brotherly love and not the tolerance that relies on looking down a snobbish nose into the eyes of the tolerated, and humiliated human being?

This just cannot be real.


****

Note: The extract in quotes is taken from the editorial of the Sunday Times of Malta – 26th March 2006. It refers to the illegal immigrants and refugees who were bundled into housing under atrocious conditions and is a partial reaction to the new uproar created by a visit of European Parliament inspectors who were among the first outsiders to be allowed by the democratic Republic of Malta to inspect the conditions. The visit had prompted escapes from detention by immigrants eager to show their plight to the visiting MEPS (and who cares how they got to know about the visit? Why should they not know about it?). Following the escapes, police in Floriana were seen stopping anyone who is black while passers by called for a all immigrants to be rounded up and burnt in a square.

It is possible that the above summary is as biased as it could get. But even the possibility that it is one tenth of the truth makes me feel ashamed that I am Maltese.