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The Horse's Mouth

One of the basic tenets of journalism that probably everybody and his brother has heard about is the principle of the 5 “W”s. It’s a concept that underpins the writing of a complete investigative answer by asking the questions “Who? What? Where? Why? and When?” and trying to provide an answer to all of them or an at least an indication as to why those answers were not immediately available. The additional question “How?” has occasionally been pinned onto the back of the original 5 Ws. In my last but one post “Don Paolo and the Recalcitrant Consiglieri” I started to track the “Nikki Dimech Gate” story and the reporting being made by MaltaToday on the subject. I tried to point out that the information being made available by the eager sleuths at MT is flimsy and lends itself more to unqualified speculation rather than presentation of hard and fast facts.

Now I am sure that MT’s sleuths have launched into the investigation with the best intentions of remaining the much needed breath of fresh air in investigative journalism that goes beyond the pure partisan aspects which we have gotten used to over the ages. I do not need convincing over this as much as I do not need convincing that MT has a mixed agenda of its own (known in polite circles as “editorial policy”) that merges market necessity (the need to quench public thirst for conspiracy theory style news/scandal – defined as any bit of news that provokes the reaction “X’gharukaza”) and a hazy political position that cannot be as easily and wittily summarised.

There is however something that Professors DeGaetano and De Marco would call a continuous crime of ommission occuring within this particular spate of reporting on DimechGate. While we should thank our lucky stars that there is a team of journalists who are interested in asking questions beyond the party spin and press release this does not mean that we – especially the newcomers to the Fourth Estate  such as bloggers – should not question certain vacuums in the line of thought. In the previous post we wondered why so much was being made on the supposed threat uttered by bungling PN SecGen PBO involving Dimech and a 72 year old councillors’ mother. Rationally reasoning out that threat brings out not two but three possible meanings:

1) We will eliminate your nonogenarian mother should you not comply with party policy (the mafia interpretation)

2) get off the bloody phone and talk with your mum later – we’re talking Dimechgate now (the impatient PBO interpretation)

3) we helped you rmum in so many ways and forget about that help if you persist in ignoring our position (the sleazy retraction of favours interpretation)

You will immediately notice that barring interpretation number 2 which is the milder of the three, the other two interpretations (Mafia and Retraction of Favours) qualify as forcible coercion to sign an impeachment motion. Now that is not something to be taken lightly. For PBO it could mean heaps of trouble – and I do not mean the contradiction in policy that was highlighted by the swift ostracisation of Nikki Dimech while still harbouring a 40 year old man being tried for sex crimes. Coercing a local councillor into signing a motion against his or her will is not just not kosher in today’s day and age but it could also have criminal consequences. Contrary to what public opinion may be on the subject, PLPN whips and Secretary generals are not the equivalent of their communist counterparts. They may give the impression that they can control everything under the sun (and some hidden hands like to think that they do just that) but the reality of the matter is that if we expect to be living in a liberal democracy in the 21st century then its local councillors should be free thinking human beings who can – if they so believe – go against the party line on a matter of principle.

So hurrah to MT for uncovering this particular phase. What happened next though continued to force me to question MT’s policies.  When councillor Camilleri was summoned to the police station for questioning, the knee jerk reaction on MT was to slap a title to the article that went on the lines of “PBO’s threat comes true as 72 year old councillor summoned for questioning by police”. I cannot link or quote verbatim because thankfully, it seems, there has been a rethink and the original title has changed. And there is an obvious reason for this. The reason is that no matter how much you may wish to toe the line that PBO has a hidden hand in police circles and that this DimechGate has been orchestrated from the start as some sort of elaborate frame up to rid Sliema of Dimech there is one fatal flaw in standing by this argument this time: PBO has absolutely no interest in having the police go  over his discussion with the Sliema councillor.

Somebody at the MT team must have noticed that because what I think is the new title to the article that appeared online yesteday is ”
Paul Borg Olivier worried as Sandra Camilleri gets called in by Police, after his threatening meeting with PN councilor”. (Yes, MT stick to their US English dictionary). Now that’s more like it. Which really means that the police have been acting very kosher all along. I have no particular interest in defending or attacking the police corps but hey you cannot blame them for investigating DimechGate from the start if there was a report of corruption by government officials and PN administration. You cannot blame the police either, for launching a possible investigation into the coercion of a public person involved in the administration of a local council. That fettering of discretion is an administrative crime and cannot be allowed to happen.MT has corrected its earlier eagerness to run along with the whole La Piovra & Don Paolo theory involving god knows what hidden hands in the process.

We are back to more rational lines where a number of questions are being asked rightly of our political system. This “mani pulite” phase in the short history of local council politics might involve the relative lightweights of PLPN politicking but it could turn out to be a valuable eye-opener as to the many no-nos committed in the name of partisan hegemony. Let us not forget that Nikki Dimech is being crucified for an alleged request for commission that would amount to a maximum of €240 (10 to 20% of €1200) and that Elizabeth Vella had to resign after receiving €80 that were not registered in the council’s accounts. By no means should such actions go unnoticed and unpunished (if you want to use that word) but this is still the same country where there is no rule on party financing and transparency and where the interests of contractors, investors and developers are curiously intertwined with the creme de la creme of our political high society (the heavyweights) right?

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Don Paolo and the Recalcitrant Consiglieri

The heat of the summer and the explosive events have not detracted the team at MaltaToday (MT) from their persistence in turning the Nikki Dimech saga into another interwoven epic of a conspiracy theory. The state funeral of one of Malta’s most respected politicians and the Mosta fireworks bang spoilt the plans for the MT team who were probably counting on the boring period of Santa Maria to sell the conspiracy spin to the utmost. Lest you think we are about to make a full mockery of the MT news item regarding the goings on around the latest local councillor to be declared incompetent we beg you to hold your equines for a little longer.

The story as recounted by the eager wolves of MT is definitely more intriguing (and almost twice as credible) as the news coming from the sheep at Strickland House’s HMV (His Master’s Voice – known in some circles as the Times of Malta). First we had the allegations of illicit behaviour and financial misdemeanours at the Sliema local council. So far, so good. As local councils go these days financial embezzlement and general mishandling by those catapulted to the forefront of the local scene by the PLPN headhunters are becoming more and more commonplace. In this case it was young turk Nikki Dimech who was being investigated for a period of time. Things started to hot up when Nikki Dimech tried to organise an emergency council meeting to clear the air and demonstrated the unqualified naivety of an untutored renegade left up shit creek with no paddle and no organisational back up to speak of. Arrigo, his mentor in Sliema, was nowhere to be seen at this point and the spinmeisters at Dar Centrali kept their distance.

Dimech’s failed meeting did take place some time later only to turn out to be a doctored meeting that had nothing of the “emergency” air that had been trumpeted earlier. The heavy hand of party interference (or guidance?) could be felt at that point though to say that the Sliema councillors were comfortable with the situation at that point would be tantamount to saying that Sliema Wanderers will one day have good odds to win the Champions’ League. So Dimech’s robotic address at the meeting was registered on camera a few days before he was summoned to the police station to answer a few questions.

Which is where Dimech’s (and the PN’s) Midsummer’s Nightmare starts – and where MT begins its party. First it was announced ad urbi et orbi that Dimech was admitting his guilt and that he had solicited commissions from a contractor (an Arrigo supporter to boot) for some council works. Information is thrown at the reader like an unfinished novel. What importance, for example, is the fact that the contractor in question is a supporter of Arrigo (presumably this also means that he foots some bills in election time thanks to our lovely laws on party and candidate funding – whatever happened to the crime of lying on oath?)? The equation should have been – and is – Dimech is backed by Arrigo and hence should therefore be nice to Arrigo’s supporters. Iddardarx l-ilma etc etc…

Then there was the ploy of a frame-up with the collaboration of the men supposed to keep the law and order. Dimech’s friends (note: NOT DIMECH) were alleging that he was coerced to sign the confession and that such coercion included the denial of an all important inhaler. The police were the villains aiding an invisible hidden hand that had everything but the interests of Dimech to heart. Funny. Apart from the immediate police denials one would expect MT to ask Dimech himself whether his friends are being solidal out of disbelief or whether there was some truth in that story. Not really. Well so long as his friends say it.

Dimech in the meantime was holding on to his seat in the council. He refused to resign and stayed on as an independent councillor. Not many brownie points for someone who has just admitted his guilt to the men in uniform but since the law does not provide for his immediate impeachment then that got the PN in a twist. Our electoral laws do tend to get the PLPN in a twist in such situations since we do not really elect party people to councils or parliament but we directly choose our representatives. All the PN could do was Dimech from the party and take their distance which you can bet your bottom euro they did at the earliest opportunity. What was left was for the PN to get Dimech to let go of his mayoral post.

Which meant that Paul Borg Olivier had to reluctantly acknowledge that there is  more to local councils than preparing long lists of catch all candidates. He would have to leave the airconditioned office in Dar Centrali, postpone all trips on superyachts and meet the consiglieri. The point of all this meeting being of course the dismissal by vote of no confidence of Nikki Dimech from his mayoral post. MT’s investigative sleuths got wind of these meetings and were present at the Lady Di pub in Sliema when PBO met 72-year old Consigliera Sandra Camilleri.

As we learn in the article (Your mother or Nikki Dimech, Borg Olivier tells 72 year old councillor) , Madam Camilleri still enjoys the company of her own mother at the ripe age of 72. Don Paolo does not seem to manage to get Madam Camilleri away from the idea proposed by the “friends of Nikki Dimech” that there has been some sort of frame up. According to the journalist overhearing the conversation Camilleri sticks to the frame up idea rather obstinately and is reluctant to sign up to PBO’s plan to depose the tainted mayor. It is then that, according to MT, Don Paolo chooses to up the ante and comes up with a rather enigmatic phrase: “Your mother or Dimech”.

There is it is. A phrase reminescent of those Mafia style movies where the victim is told without any measure of equivocation that the life of another person depends on their making the right decision. It’s the classical offer they can’t refuse. But is it? The article in question is full of dropping of innuendos and includes a whole episode of PBO making a mockery of the councillor’s dedication to her agèd mama but surely the shady dealings of the PN inner sanctum do not include contract killings of aged women in old people’s homes (we presumed the latter fact). Premature termination of life cannot ever feature on the PN agenda – at least because it would be rather contradictory to the party line on abortion. So what did PBO mean with his offer? Even if we take the MT story with a pinch of salt (as you generally do since the MT does take to see the Sun or Daily Mail side of things) you are still left with a sort of hanging threat.

The only excuse we could think of was that PBO got miffed by Camilleri’s constant calls with her mother on mobile and that the phrase was an exhortation to concentrate on matters at hand: “Your mother or Dimech” sounds much less dangerous now. I sure as hell hope that  Paul can say that this is the case. Otherwise we really have gone to the dogs. I eagerly await the full version on the Sunday paper but in the meantime I really cannot shake the image of PBO and JP Debono as a PN version of Samuel Jackson and John Travolta sent on some business by Marcellus Wallace.

Pleasures yet to come eh?

The MT Video: As illustrative as a braille encyclopaedia

The Real Duo at Work: Big Kahuna Burger Coercion

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I.M. Jack : The Secular Post Edition

Gode di Immunità Ecclesiastica
The sponsors of the anti-divorce billboard erected by the Zebbug Parish are performing all sorts of cartwheels in order to make it clear that they are actually fence-sitters of the prime order and are neither for or against divorce. I guess it is important to know that Mega Tech of Mdina Road, Zebbug, fine purveyors of electronic gaming, have absolutely no opinion whatsoever in favour or against divorce though I am sure you could buy a copy of The Sims (check out the Guide to Marriage in the Sims at the end of this post) from the establishment – complete with married couples and all.

I like the way Jason Grech of Mega Tech used the smoking metaphor for an analogy as to why sponsors should not be associated with the message. Rothmans used to sponsor the football league, he says, but it does not mean that smoking is good for footballers. Bank of Valletta are into their tenth year of sponsoring the MFA’s premier league and we are inching towards legislation that bans advertising of cigarettes completely. That’s the thing about advertising Jason, it’s full of those irritating messages you can’t control. You should stick to the PLPN way – you give them the off the books bung and the Curia/Parish will give you a highway to heaven.

Apparently the church billboard did not need a permit because it fell under socio-religious classification which means it can be erected for 21 days without a permit. I wonder if some company is willing to sponsor the J’accuse Billboard that we could erect in Zebbug square for 21 days – it would state “God has no vote/ Alla m’ghandux vot”. Anonymous bungs accepted.

Tut Tut Flies and Aedes Albopictus

This is an Aedes albopictus female mosquito ob...
Image via Wikipedia

No new sightings have been made of the dangerous Asian Tiger Mosquito in Malta. The albino-like varmint had shaken a few feathers with two sightings in September and November. It is a carrier of such niceties as dengue and yellow fevers. Thankfully the committee specially appointed by the government for the search and destroy mission did not make any further sightings. What Malta is still full of is the local “tut tut” fly. People complaining endlessly about the heat (justified), prices (not entirely justified) and anything they can complain about in mid conversation. Speaking of mid-conversation, J’accuse spotted fellow a fellow Luxembourg dweller bravely wearing these pink crocs at the Embassy in Valletta.

crocs spotted at embassy

Driving Maniacs

There is absolutely no reason whatsoever why we should wonder at all the accidents happening this summer. How can you marvel when walking or driving involves exposing your self to manifest danger for life and limb. Students equipped with almost half a brain pop out at the most improbable of places to cross the road. Yesterday I risked a head on collision from behind in order to slow down for two absolute nincompoops who were crossing a dark road on Regional Road at Saint Andrew’s right at the blind corner after the lights at Jessie’s Bar (direction Qawra). If I was not risking a mad bus ramming my rented 107 I would have got out of the car and given them a good beating myself such was the anger they provoked with their nonchalant attitude towards safety.

Students living at the Coastline hotel are waiting for the lights to turn green before crossing. (Green for them not for the cars of course). Which does not mean that an accident will not happen there any time soon. It just takes one hair brained crosser or worse one of those arseholes who think that the coast road is Le Mans revisited and boom you have your “tilef il-kontroll tal-vettura” and “ghal xi raguni ma hix maghrufa” all over again. Bugger to all that. We should reintroduce impaling as a punishment for serious traffic offences.

Valletta & Paceville

The capital is getting nicer and nicer what with all the embellishments and road works. At least they are worth something ad maiorem popoli commoditatem unlike the cacophonic chaos that are the works in the streets of the suburb that never sleeps. Check out my funky snapshots of the city (on my facebook album). I enjoyed taking them with my little Nikon Coolpix. You’ve just gotta love the Public Convenience in Strait Street. I also managed to be in VLT at midday to witness the St George’s Square spitting to music thingy. Water bounced and jumped to Charles Camilleri.

I think I like what they’ve done to the square (whose surface looks like an Olly and Benjy football pitch) but it still will never justify the expenses that were dispensed for the launching concert. It’s benches, lampposts and a couple of water spitters. At least we can console ourselves that urban planners have finally discovered the pleasures of open spaces. Slowly, slowly.

***

Guide to Marriage in the Sims (from ask.com)

A gay proposal in The Sims (yes, it also means happy)

“The Sims” is a fun simulation that gets some parts of life right. We all get cranky if we don’t have enough fun, food, and rest. But when it comes to marriage, the game is very different.

Steps to Getting Married
Friendship is a requirement for Sims to get married. They have to have a relationship score of 70. Then it is safe to turn on the heat, by lots of kissing and hugging. The proposal action becomes available once the relationship score is met. In order for a proposal to be accepted, the potential spouse needs to be in a good mood. They can easily refuse the proposal just because they aren’t hungry or need to empty their bladder. Once you are sure they are in a good mood, then propose. But even then, nothing is guaranteed.
The Wedding

When the proposal is accepted the Sims will immediately have a wedding. They change into wedding clothes and that’s it!

After the Wedding
The visiting sim will move into the home adding their assets to the bank account. The last name of the Sim moving in is changed. Children of the new spouse will move in as well, except if there is another adult at the original home.

Divorce? New Spouse?
Once married, that’s it! No divorce for Sims. They can, however, marry other Sims. Each Sim can have multiple spouses. A male Sim could have 7 other wives living with him, as long as he proposed to each in his own home.

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J'accuse: A nation divorced from reality

A few months ago I mentioned, in an interview on Dissett, that blogs were holding a mirror up to our society and that our society did not like what it saw. The process of reflection has been going on for some time now and whether it is the sudden urgency with which we are discussing Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando’s Bill or whether we are lost in the aftermath of the Stitching decision in court, we are constantly confronted with a picture of Maltese society – warts and all.

Much has been made of this idea that the battle between conservatives and progressives has reached its defining moment, but there is more to it than the centuries-old battle between preservation and change. While following debates on both divorce and censorship over the past week, I have noticed a trend in some of the arguments. Both subjects deal with specific values and bring to the discussion table a plethora of issues that have for a long time been dealt with quietly and away from the public eye. There lies an important point for this argument. I harbour a strong suspicion that one field in this debate – that of the conservative elements who are normally both anti-divorce and pro-censorship – is firmly rooted in denial.

This denial is built around a permanent incapacity to reconcile the facts thrown at them daily by the world around them with the principles and dogmas that they have been brought up to regurgitate. There is an innate inability to question and examine the unfamiliar allied with an ability to blot out huge portions of their own experience that would be incongruous with the very principles they would love to follow. It’s complicated. But you’ll soon see what I mean.

I can’t believe it’s not Shakespeare

Back in the time when I could play football for hours during break without fearing for life and limb, I used to return to my fourth form English literature lessons looking forward to the latest text on offer. I still vividly remember a particular play about a dysfunctional, murderous couple who were never up to any good. The woman (should I say woman?) in particular was quite a devil of a woman. To this day I am impressed by the passage of the play where she invokes the spirits to unsex her pronto and to transform her into the very embodiment of cruelty that is bereft of any remorse – a machine honed to commit any form of evil without any pangs of conscience.

That a woman would be prepared to relinquish her very own sex in order to become a perfect evil machine was surprising enough. There was more though. She then proceeds to invite murderers to come suckle from her breasts that, thanks to the aforementioned transformation, no longer provided maternal milk but had been transformed into a source of gall. Gall being of course the mediaeval word for wrath, anger, hatred… you get my drift.

Behind every great man lies a great woman. With this couple the woman is both schemer and mastermind, egging on a weak-willed husband to murder and remorseless backstabbing for the sake of power. When her husband’s will seems to wane and when he seems to be reneging on his conspiratorial promises, she once again provides him with an inspiring speech. Well, inspiring is one way of putting it. What she does tell her pussy-footing husband is that if it was her being held to her word, she would do so even if she had promised to bash the brains of her own infant. Her nonchalance is legendarily spine-chilling. She has “given suck” she says and “knows how tender ‘tis to love the babe that milks me”, but she would still “while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck’d my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash’d the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this”.

A charming Lady she must have been, no doubt, this Mrs Macbeth. For yes messieurs et mesdames, this devilish dysfunctional couple is none other than the ill-fated Thane of Cawdor, Glamis, etc and his belovèd wife, and the play in question was written by the much acclaimed Bard of Avon himself – one Mr Shakespeare William of Stratford-upon-Avon. Given that the shenanigans to which these two got up could easily fall within the parameters of dangerous sexual perversions, as well as the imagery of assault and murder of suckling babes, it is a wonder how our English teacher – good, old Ms T. Friggieri – managed to present this play to a class of young impressionable adolescents without too much trouble.

Censor this?

Even if Ms Friggieri had the text whipped from her hands by Malta’s punctilious Bord ta’ Klassifika ta’ Pellikoli u Palk (hard one that, given that she is also the chairperson of said board), we could always fall back on William Golding’s magnificent Lord of the Flies and the wonderful metaphor of collective sexual climax among shipwrecked pre-adolescent boys as they stab away at a pig while being carried away in an ecstasy of violent and murderous pleasures. Who ever said school literature was boring? I wonder what the kids at Saint Aloysius’ College are reading today in the post-Stitching world. And will the Jesuits take the pupils on a trip to the cinema over Easter to watch Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ replete with exaggerated scenes of violence and sadistic suffering far beyond anything found in the Scriptures?

Gibson, Golding and Shakespeare. All use their medium to deliver a message. The audience is not expected to sit back and literally consume all that is set out before it but is rather expected to question the content. The complex characters in Shakespeare’s Macbeth expose the dangers of a quest for power – Tolkien gives us the Ring, Shakespeare gives us an unsexed half-demonic woman prepared to bash the brains of her own suckling offspring. Golding examines humanity at its most crude and Gibson? Well, Gibson took the narrative of the suffering of the Son of God and exaggerated it beyond recognition. By the very standards imposed by the Stitching decision, Gibson’s film should never have made it to the silver screens in Malta (nor, should we really be punctilious, should most tracts of the Bible).

I could go on. The list is endless. As Rupert Cefai rightly pointed out, we might be the victims of our own hypocrisy. We would be prepared to censor the portrayal of a father lifting a dagger to the skies about to murder his own son as being “violent” and “offensive to sentiments”, but we might change tack if we called the dad Abraham and the son Isaac. Every narrative has its medium and, yes, some are quite shocking. But the mere fact that they are intended to provoke does not mean that they are “bad” or “censurable”. In the end we must ask the question: Are we protecting our values or are we cushioning ignorance? The debate (unfortunately) continues.

He ain’t heavy, he’s my Jeffrey

Michael Briguglio, AD’s chairman, penned a brilliant article last Friday called “Censoring (post)-Modernity” and you can find it on www.mikes-beat.blogspot.com. In the article, he argues that when referring to “Maltese civilisation” the Court that gave us the Stitching decision was actually referring to “the dominant interests of the dominant institutions in Malta”. It goes without saying that, having written of the dangers of the stranglehold of bipartisan politics in Malta for over five years, J’accuse is in full agreement with Mike. The mainstream of both political parties is unable to deal with substantial issues such as divorce or the latest questions of censorship.

The traditionalist stranglehold must not necessarily be seen with a chiaroscuro sense of “good or evil”. It does, however, threaten to choke the rights and expressions of a different (and growing) minority aspiring to a more liberal (or if you like a toned down term, a more personal) lifestyle. This is the unrepresented minority that is not content with having others think for itself. It’s the same unrepresented minority that would like to be provoked and challenged with new ideas and which believes that the building block of society deserves a shot at a second chance if it is broken, and irretrievably so. It believes in not imposing its values and thoughts on others but, ironically, it also still feels part of the social fabric that keeps us all together.

Which brings me to JPO (abbreviation for convenience) and his Bill. It’s clumsy and elegant at the same time. It’s oxymoronically magnificent and has shocked the lethargic dinosaurs plodding at the head of Mike’s “dominant institutions” into action. Shocked was GonziPN (the man, the label and the immediate entourage) by the sudden need to take a stand without faffing away or hiding in a bishop’s frock (plus the lurking danger of a new perceived fragmentation of the party). Shocked was Muscat’s Progressive Party by the sudden realisation that its bluff, with all its flaws and miscalculations, had been called and that the honeymoon with all things progressive would soon be over once the cover has been blown. The lone part-time farmer, journalist and dentist from Zebbug had struck again with a vengeance and hooray for that. Yes, we applaud JPO for this shock treatment. No wonder we chose him as our Personality of the Year in 2008.

The Bill itself has a long way to go and there are many tricks up the sleeves of the dominant institutions before we could actually see a proper divorce bill introduced (hopefully not this cut and paste Irish job). There’s free votes and qualms of conscience, there’s an uphill battle to educate about the tutelage of minority rights, there’s a possible refusal by a Catholic President to sign the bill (an excuse to get out of the way after the recent faux pas?), and then there is the mother of all threats: an abrogative referendum. For if fundamental fanatics like the GoL people can go to extremes to coerce parliamentarians into signing bits of nonsense, how can we not expect equivalent tactics to get a future divorce bill abrogated by busybodies who would tell you when and where to copulate, if they could.

The battle lines have been drawn. Right now we should focus on the debate rather than on the people jumping in and out of the limelight. I for one am grateful for the empowered journals with their mini-video vox pops that persist in their duty to lift the mirror straight into the face of Maltese society but please, please, someone get that Board of Censors to prohibit the use of the phrase “as such” in an interview. This practical debate (fortunately) has begun.

Encyclopaedic

This article threatens to reach the encyclopaedic levels of old and that is because of the two subjects that provoke endless discussion. Do pop over to J’accuse the blog because we have been having quite a few interesting exchanges over the last few weeks. We’ll be writing and blogging from home base (Malta) next week and you’ll be able to hear about the latest ECHR case obliging a state to provide a proper set-up for its residents abroad to be able to vote (cheers to the Runs for the flagging). I pick up my rental car on Thursday morning and I hope that the roads will be a little calmer than has been reported over the last few days. Easy on the gas pedal, guys.

Finally, the World Cup will be one match short of being over by the time you finish reading this article. We will either have Spanish or Dutch celebrations – either way it’s a European victory, which is small consolation for those of us whose hopes lay elsewhere in the beginning. Unlike the eight-limbed cephalopod of note, my predictions for this world cup have been absolutely atrocious but I am still convinced that we have seen some good football. Speaking of the World Cup and Octopi, I leave you with a quote I pulled from Facebook. It’s by a colleague and fellow Juventino Damien Degiorgio:

“I’ve got nothing against Paul but World Cups used to be remembered for a Paul Gascoigne, a Paolo Rossi or Paolo Roberto Falcao, not for Paul the octopus” – brilliant.

(Errata Corrige: Chief Justice Roberts is NOT resigning as erroneously asserted in last week’s J’accuse. Chief Justice is there for life (a bit like a pet) – it is Justice John Stevens who has retired and will be replaced by Elena Kagan. Thanks to Indy readers the Jacobin and John Lane for the quick corrections.)

www.akkuza.com – uncensored, uncut, and unmarried. “Two-thirds of the country is divorced from reality. The rest would vote for divorce.” – from this week’s J’accuse.

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He ain't heavy, he's my Jeffrey

As expected, GonziPN is already rallying up for the challenge of the double-D boob thrown at them by JPO (Double D stands for Divorce Debate in case you were wondering). The first concern for PN remains the need to convey the clear message that there is no threat to the relative majoirty – single seat government (obtained with a 1,600 vote majority – giving it very little moral authority to impose whatever principles it espouses beyond normal day to day managament of the nation). That concern has been shaken by JPO’s renegade move. At least we have to believe it is a renegade movethat has been both unvetoed and unvetted by the PN parliamentary group because, if we are to stick to this line, JPO presented this clone of Ireland’s Divorce Act without any help from his friends.

Unity before discussion is therefore a major point on Gonzi’s agenda. Even before venturing into the proselytising, catholic pandering and blatant ignorance of the duties of society towards the minority who do not believe that their life should be ruled by the Curia – even before that – Gonzi & Co had to reconcile JPO’s position with their own, for the sake of the government. Hence the comments last night by our PM appearing in this morning’s papers which are very revealing in deed – no need to wait for the parliamentary group’s meeting:

Prime Minister Lawrence Gonzi said this evening he did not agree with Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando’s position and with the method he used in presenting a private member’s bill on bill. He told timesofmalta.com: “This is a very serious matter. I have called a Parliamentary group meeting tomorrow, this has to be followed by a discussion at party level. Only then will we be able to take an official position.” Dr Pullicino Orlando, the Prime Minister said, took a personal initiative based on his personal position which was well known, so his position did not surprise anyone. However, Dr Gonzi said, this subject was so important that the electorate should have the opportunity to express itself after being informed. (The Unlinkable Times)

There you have it. The three pronged approach.

In primis, (you can imagine the serious face here) there is the acceptance of the fact that (a) GonziPN (the entity represented by the man) does not agree with JPO (rally behind me those who care for our future!) (b) GonziPN draws second blood by criticising the method of this travesty of a backstab (Private Members’ Bill? What’s that?). So the battleground is clear. Insofar as principles are concerned GonziPN’s camp is clearly in disaccord with the renegade sipper of teas. Insofar as method is concerned the jibe is less effective. When, after all, is a Private Members’ Bill useful in this duopolistic excuse for a parliament of ours if not in this kind of situation when it is patently obvious that none of the two formations supposedly representing the people seem to have an interest in putting before the assembly the largest elephent in the national hall? Bollocks to “I do not agree with the method”. Of course you don’t Lawrence. Even (and I stress that even) the conniving ginger boy in opposition recognises the use of the Private Member’s Bill although admittedly his intended use thereof was the closest time ever that politics could be described as being dyslexic.

In secundis there is the “very serious matter” business (as opposed to the comic matter of the price of oil, the hilarious matter of the White Rocks Complex tender process and the side-splitting matter of the barriers to electoral reform posed by PLPN). Indeed divorce is a serious matter requiring serious and informed debate. A serious and informed debate includes an end that is a final decision on whether it is to become law or not and not the abstract debate based on mental masturbation and catholic smugness that has dominated the island for nigh twenty years. So yes, Gonzi is right in describing the subject as “serious”. Contrary to all impressions, Gonzi & PN – two of the branches of the uncomfortable trinity of Gonzi & PN & Renegades – still do not have an official position on divorce. Have we been given a clue to a possible “official position” for PN MPs? Instead Gonzi is telling us that GonziPn still has to refine this political opportunity before launching the counterattack.

The build up has already started because in tertio GonziPN does not hesitate to clearly and unequivocally declare that JPO “took a personal initiative” (bang) that is “based on his personal position” (bang, bang) “which was well known” (bandage), so “his position did not surprise anyone” (bandage). Of course JPOs position did not surprise anyone. He almost gets away with it, he does this Gonzi. The “he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” approach focuses on the content and away from the earlier gaffe regarding the method. Not so bloody surprising eh? So you all expected a Private Members’ Bill introducing divorce right? But wait. That’s not what you are saying. You are saying that you are not surprised that JPO has a diametrically opposed position to the GonziPN mainstream and that he has backstabbed the whole parliamentary group with this bill without so much as a “by your leave”. No shit Sherlock.

And that brings us to Gonzi’s last tirade. He did say that the subject is important (and serious) so “the electorate should have the opportunity to express itself after being informed”. An enigmatic sentence from the Sphinx would have been simpler to solve. You can of course understand it in the sense that in this country the regulation of divorce has the same perceived moral weight as say the introduction of the death sentence, the legalisation of abortion and the legalisation of marijuana. From that perspective it is probably understandable that every step of the way is transparent to the electorate as does not happen in other areas such as the awarding of land to foreigners, or the partitioning of electoral clout by the two main parties. So we will have a debate – and what a debate that promises to be – over the summer and presumably over the first months following the resumption of parliament after summer.

For good times, for bad times

The hidden bomb in this recognition of the importance of the electorate is one that has not been reckoned hitherto by the liberal advocates – the abrogative referendum. That’s a referendum proposed by the people (or an interest group) purposely to abrogate a law that has been enacted by parliament. And this is why divorce is a serious subject. Unless the argument is won convincingly explaining that divorce is a “right” of an important minority in this country while recognising that a majority of this country are still free to practice their religious beliefs and not use that right (also watch out for the faux laiques – against divorce because of the damage to the social fabric), unless that is done we risk having the shortest-lived divorce legislation in history. And that too could be thanks to a smug section of Gonzi’s PN.

Finally Gonzi’s comments are reconciliatory. Once again Jeffrey is the naughty boy who is tolerated by the slim majority PN. Whether such magnanimity is due to the thin line of parliamentary majority held by Gonzi’s rainbow party is another question. It is important for GonziPN to seem to be unwavered by this latest backstabbing setback. True, this time the party has changed what seemed to be a slip into a golden opportunity to trump the empty words of Muscat’s progressives who are left cycling in thin air but once again the fruits of PN’s rag-tag assemblage before the election are being sown. No matter – everybody can be carried on the bandwagon – after all “he ain’t heavy, he’s my Jeffrey”.

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me

If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another.

It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we’re on the way to there
Why not share
And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

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J'accuse : The Banana Republic

There’s this company and its put a new product on the market. Over the last 80 days it has averaged a sale of 37,500 units per day. There’s this mayor who is doing all he can to tackle the problems of pollution and dust in the air that are threatening to rack up huge fines from the EU. There’s this politician who took a decision to sack a senior institutional member in less than three hours – that particular member had publicly misbehaved and given away signs of disunity among the leadership of the nation. There’s this immigrant woman who suddenly finds herself at the helm of an entire continent. There’s this tiny nation where democracy has been on hold for a while. And then there are the French and the Italians…

Entrées

And we’re back. A thousand apologies for last week’s hiccup – it’s my first since I began writing this column. Unfortunately, a combination of technological glitches (hotel WiFi was not what it promised to be and laptop started to play up) and the usual inability to deal with temporary shifts in the time-space continuum (coping with a change in time zone) led to one last desperate attempt to submit the weekly fare from onboard a sleepy Greyhound bus headed towards Washington DC in the early hours of the morning. The absence of any J’accuse fare last week is ample proof that this mission failed miserably. Hence esteemed readers were given a break from the usual disquisitions.

I was in America, the US of A – land of the free and home of the big – and I had a whale of a time. The danger of visiting a country obsessed with size is that you soon get the hang of it and before you know it the “whale of a time” becomes a “whale having a good time”. Not that I have assumed the proportions of our cetaceous giant cousins of the ocean, but let us just say that when reviewing the holiday photos I did not feel very comfortable about what seemed to be incontrovertible proof of a double-chin. It’s impossible not to eat in America. Like their cousins across the ocean (with whom they have shared many a battle – for or against – and a World Cup draw) the ’mericans are not particularly famous for their cuisine. Which is unfair. There are burgers in your average American eatery that provide the kind of satisfaction that would make El Bulli’s Ferran Adria cringe with jealousy.

And they love their entrées. It takes some getting used to this “entrée” business. You needn’t have been living on the fringe of frogland to know that an entrée is normally a smaller course that precedes the main course. In the US, the heading on the menu normally reserved for the main course is “Entrée”, which can catch you off guard if only for the few hours needed to consume the average bacon-cheese-Swiss edam-egg triple burger. Food is an art form worthy of a hall in the MOMA or Guggenheim. Every swish of ketchup, every hot dog and falafel stand on 42nd St, every Mr Softy lurking next to the ubiquitous post-boxes yell “Murder by Cholesterol”, but it’s only then that you begin to appreciate the “I’m lovin’ it” slogan.

Restrooms

It’s easy to understand why whole books have been written taking note of the cultural differences in the land of the large (Bill Bryson sticks out as the obvious example). From the libraries to the drugstores to the restaurants the evidence is all over. The obsession with large is fantastic – I was berated for using a wrong (smaller) cup for a beverage (drink – a “soda” actually is a “soft-drink”) and they look at you quizzically when you refuse to avail yourself of cheap upgrades for your meal. At the B.B. King Sunday Gospel Brunch with the “World Famous” (what would American lingo be without epithets?) Harlem Gospel Choir, I sat timidly watching the spectacle surrounded by hundreds of hippos and rhinoceroses swinging to the music and chewing on an eat-all-you-can buffet. I can’t. Eat all of that, that is. You know what? Screw political correctness. Big, fat American people are all over the place. Then comes the cherry on the cake (if you still have space): New York City has a campaign running to “reduce the amount of sodium” in foods. Apparently it’s bad for your health.

One last thing before this column becomes a running commentary of the Bryson kind. The lingo. They do not speak English in the US. I am not referring to Spanish soon becoming the national vernacular but rather to the complete, absolute and unequivocal rape of the language of Shakespeare. Not that it is not the right of the people across the pond to develop their own queer way of speaking English but I was not aware of how many simple words we use daily have been replaced. It’s not the “kerb v pavement” kind of thing.

It’s signs like “Restrooms One Flight Up” that get to me in a funny way. At first glance there is nothing abnormal with that is there? Think again. How many times have you seen that sign recently? What you may have seen is this one: “Toilets Upstairs”. There’s loads more where that came from and I am not complaining – it’s just part of the fun while staying in the US and in the city that never sleeps.

Jelly

NYC mayor Bloomberg has just announced that, despite the recession and the retreating power of the euro, the Big Apple has set its sights on reaching a record of 50 million tourists annually by 2013. They’re not far off that record, seeing as how they will probably hit 47 million this year. That’s 47 million potential gym clients in Europe by December 2010 – there must be a few easy bucks to be made somewhere. Speaking of bucks, another Big Apple that is on a roll is Steve Job’s ship. iPads have been on sale for about 80 days now and over 30 million units have been sold. Pastizzi anyone?

If selling iPads is a bit like selling cheesecakes in Hamrun High Street, then selling the new iPhone 4 is like giving out free pastizzi at City Gate on a Monday morning. We’ve stopped getting as excited as when the advent of the first iPhone was with us, plus the rapid development of Android might mean that Apple’s competitors might be catching up faster than Steve thought, but in any case, the iPhone and iPad will give us a reason to flex our digits and surf the net like never before.

One new development to look out for is Google’s Chrome OS. It might redefine what computers mean and do for us. Essentially, it takes all the advantages of cloud computing and uses them to eliminate start up time and hardware and software problems on your PC. Lost? Just sit back and wait… it will all happen to you as inevitably as the sun will rise tomorrow morning.

Cap it all

Washington DC’s mall must be one of the most incredible feats of democratic architecture ever. I do not mean the buildings themselves that surround the vast expanse centred around Washington’s monument (which looks like, and is inspired by, a phallus but which tends to cause no fuss at all in the US). What I mean is the use of symbols and space to immediately convey the meanings and principles upon which the American Dream was originally built. Remembrance, respect and aspiration. They are all there. From the magnificent Capitol, to the war memorials, to the Lincoln and Jefferson memorials to the White House. Standing under the Washington Monument on a clear night with the temperature hitting the nineties, you take a deep breath and an incredible head rush of history immediately assaults your brain. You see it all, from Leif Eriksson to Columbus to 1776 and beyond. It is hard not to feel awed and envious of the American Dream.

There were moments when my pride to be European kicked in though. None were more obvious than the “little” perks brought about by the EU. Take being “delayed” on a flight thanks to some bumptious handling by the Delta ground crew (half the commuters had been delayed to the airport by an extraordinary amount of traffic). No vouchers for food. No vouchers to phone home. No hotel in case of an overnight delay. Upon landing in Amsterdam for my connect flight, the wonderful people at KLM issued me a new ticket at no extra cost, handed me both food and phone vouchers as well as a smile that went along with the service. Thank you European Directives and Regulations. Damn you Delta Airlines and the insufferable desk clerk with monosyllabic vocabulary (i.e. NO).

The worst two things about a stay in the States though are both money related. First of all is the hopeless system of not including tax on prices. Whether in a supermarket or booking your hotel the price you see is not the price you pay. A $4.99 plug becomes something ridiculous like $5.13, which only means that your pockets will be loaded with pennies, dimes and quarters. Also, there seems to be a staunch resistance to using the practical one-dollar coins as against the filthy one-dollar bills – not to mention the irritating fact that all dollar bills are the same colour.

I could bother you with my grievances about the concept of “gratuity” at US tables (it’s a tip but sounds nicer when it is called a gratuity). I witnessed a waitress chase after a couple who dared leave a pittance on the table in tips and was also lectured to by a Russian taxi driver about the dangers of not tipping (the previous occupants had dispensed with the idea of a tip altogether) but the time has come for me to conclude.

Johnny Rockets

The blog is entering the summer phase and I have chosen “the Banana Republic” as the main theme. I will not discuss the merits and demerits of the World Cup performances as yet out of superstition. Brazil is still in it and looking good so that is fine for me. The Banana Republic will deal with the global village, with the local democracy put on hold by two parties who can only gain from the status quo and with the latest thrills from the technological development.

Congrats to the competition (MaltaToday) for the spanking new portal on the web – as I have long been saying, this step is an inevitable one for newspapers of today (hint and nudge to the Eds). The original battleground for online news seems to be gravitating around a more settled feel. The latest step is for papers to take back control of their comment board. Expect local papers to oblige users to register and sign comments in their own name sometime soon. That might lead to less comments and more quality.

The company in the intro was Apple of course. The mayor is Boris Johnson tackling London’s new levels of pollution. It was President Obama sacking General McChrystal after reading some remarks made by the general an interview with Rolling Stone magazine. It took President Obama a reading of the first few paragraphs to reach a decision to fire a general who had hitherto been thought to be indispensable to the efforts in Afghanistan (it’s not the war it’s the counterinsurgency, stupid). Julia Gillard, a Welsh immigrant in 1966, became Australia’s first woman Prime Minister when Labour leader Rudd stepped down following an inside revolt. There are no surprises in guessing that our democracy is still on hold following Labour’s walkout from the House Committee for the strengthening of democracy. Finally, there’s the French and the Italians. I guess some things are best left unsaid.

www.akkuza.com found a link between Inter’s pre-world cup championship victories and early exits (with dismal performances) by Italy. Four times out of five this has been the case –- the only exception being Mussolini’s Champions in 1938. Maybe there is more to it than just superstition.