In the course of the on-going debate on whether or not to transfer public property to various sports and social organisations, it is clear that opposition members must have found themselves uncomfortably perched on the horns of a dilemma.

It is anathema to them to be seen, in any way, shape, manner or form to be supporting anything the government does, if for no other reason than because their supporters (I hesitate to use the time-worn great unwashed phrase, lest I puncture their collective dignity) would get confused. After all, if the opposition supports the government on this one, where will things stop? We`ll be getting them supporting entry into the EU or something cataclysmic like that.

The reasons for this lack of enthusiastic support being whatever they are, I still failed to get myself particularly interested in the debate, because, after all, everybody going on about how worthy the Scouts are and how brilliant it is that the bocci people of wherever are going to be given their own land is not the stuff of which scintillating debates are made.

This was before I heard Dr Anglu Farrugia applying his quizzical frame of mind to the issue. The main tool that the gentleman from Mosta uses when firing himself up to impale the government on the fork of his incisive wit is the Sophoclean manner of interrogation, the asking of questions to which the answer is (at least from his point of view) self-evident.

He ends virtually every rapier-like thrust with the punctuator Insaqsi!, often bolstered by the chucking-in of another Insaqsi!! (generally in a slightly louder voice) with a Jien thrown in for good measure, lest the listener fails to comprehend that it is, indeed, he who is asking, asking.

Anyone who is not acquainted with this manner of philosophic debate might get the impression that at the time, the dear fellow is furrowing his brow and really feeling bereft of knowledge and information. Were it not for the fact that he is quite clearly putting it on for dramatic effect, you`d be forgiven for thinking that he knows nothing about anything at all and he is really dim.

Nothing could be further from the truth. When he asks something, Dr Farrugia knows full well what the answer is: he wasn`t a rather effective interrogator when in the Police Force for nothing you know.

He knows, for instance, that when he asks about why virtually everything of all value in the country has been given away to the nasty foreigner, the answer is not, of course, that it is an accurate reflection of reality that this happened but that his audience, the assembled masses of those who look at the world through (Emanwe)l Cuschieri`s red-tinted spectacles, will believe that it is, even if it is not.

When he turns his questioning gaze on, if one takes another example at random, injustices and asks why it is that nothing happens in this country when the tribunal for the investigation of injustices reels off case after case of injustice, he knows, even if he does not say so, that this tribunal was set up (as he said himself on another occasion) to cater for Labourites in particular, to cover specifically the period of Nationalist government and that therefore it is hardly surprising that such injustices as are identified were perpetrated by, duh, the Nationalist government.

But his question serves to fire up the ire of the plebs to whom he is addressing his remarks, even if he punctuates said remarks by the words "Mr Speaker" every three seconds or so.

The main thrust of the fellow`s argument in the debate, however, gave me cause for pause. Not because he was emulating his party`s Sunday rag, of course, and vilifying me, because it is not in the nature of the man to stoop to these depths, but because what he said will be his party`s policy if it is elected to power, an event not to be desired before we get into Europe but an event that will, in the normal course of things, take place at some time or other.

Apparently, when these guys get into power, they are going to have a look at all those injustices and, be warned, they are going to see who benefited from them and exact retribution. Anyone who has got anything out of the whole nasty business will be expected to pay and pay through the nose, with interest and such peculiar notions as time-barring and the passage of time healing wounds can go hanged.

Boy, it`s going to be fun when these people start setting up their Star Chambers and People`s Courts, hauling the nobility up before the cackling harridans who will no doubt be chosen to preside, as a precursor to offing their heads and emptying their coffers.

Corruption reigns

In the course of the same debate to which I was lending an ear in the House (over the radio, I hasten to add, lest you think I was actually there) I believe it was Dr Farrugia who gave us an account of the corruption and graft that according to him has spread to every far-flung corner of the realm, tainting everything and causing the national weal to rot and fester from stem to stern.

Unluckily for him, on the very same day that he was giving us the benefit of his insight into corruption, in court an affidavit was being filed that gave us verse, chapter and ID card numbers of the people involved in this sorry state of affairs.

I say that it is unfortunate for Dr Farrugia not because he himself was involved in any such thing, of course, but because it was the party of which he is such a proud member that was in government when this violence, this vileness, this corruption and dirt was being carried out.

It was the Malta Labour Party that was in government in the Seventies and Eighties when these conspiracies and plots were carried out, when people were threatened, when people were bombed, when land was traded in the manner of horses in the Wild West and when the law was a means to an end, rather than a means to end these crimes.

Unlike the case of Christopher Wren, if you want to see a monument to the man allegedly behind all this, it`s not around you that you have to look, though from what I hear, there has been a street named after him and a statue with his image erected, so you can find out who he is with a minimum of investigative work.

You could also have a look at Malta Today, which is lashing out at everyone who has any sort of connection to this stuff.

And while in the house

It has been reported that the broadcasters of 11 programmes have been given warnings by the Broadcasting Authority after they were found to contain too much advertising, scenes in poor taste or vulgar language or to have broken the teleshopping rules.

The programmes were broadcast on Max Plus, Education Channel 22, Capital Radio, Super One Television, TVM and Radju Parlament, the latter being the channel that wafts the mellifluous tones of our members of parliament to us over the airwaves.

Now let`s see, teleshopping they don`t do and advertising they don`t have, so what is it that the Broadcasting Authority is having a whine about when it comes to parliamentary broadcasts?

Surely not scenes in poor taste or vulgar language?

I only ask.

Hair today

In a country not a million miles away, a well-known politician has - according to the papers - just won a significant victory against a newspaper in the context of its continuous references to his efforts to camouflage the true state of his hair.

Apparently, the gentleman concerned was miffed at the way his political opponents kept latching onto the idea that if he felt moved to hide such a trivial thing as the state of his pate, then what else was he keeping from them?

My information is that Gerhard Schroeder used to colour his hair and this was causing his foes to fall about giggling, so he felt moved to stand on his dignity and put a stop to it. There`s someone else who has been feeling this way on the New Labour front, I seem to recall. There was a right old furore in the media when Tony Blair was thought to have added some highlights to his hair, presumably in an effort to look younger and save his image from further deterioration.

English examined

This is said to be real and I am quoting it word for word, as sent to me. I apologise for its length, but it has to be given the light of day.

The letter reads:

"Dear Sir/Madam, I would like to applicate for the work that you are offering "Secretary`Accounts Clerk" that was entertained on "The Sunday Times" paper. I`m seventeen of age and I`ve finished the secondary school between 2 years ago at Maria Assumpta School. I`ve passed all the subjects that I`ve studied through the form 5. I`m not working in any place and I would be greatful that my first job would be with your company. My experience is a very little one. I take care of all the office work of my fathers company. So I didn`t worked in any other offices, so if I would be the one for this job there`s the need of a little help for the beginning. In the computer literate and typing skills, I`m very good. I`ve took 2 computer courses and I have 2 certificates. I`m the type of a very kind person an I like meeting people. I`m very interested to work this type of work and I hope that this letter would be accepted."

Any further comment would be useless. Let us now stand and pause for a moment, mourning the death of language.

Enjoyment

On to happier things. Saturday`s fare included a trip to the St Jame`s Culture Depositary to watch a fine piece of theatre, Breaking Glass, in the small but excellent theatre they have there. It would be unfair to single out a player from among the wholly good cast, but if I were to be forced to choose at gunpoint, I should have to point the finger at Jes Camilleri and ask for an extra round of applause.

I wouldn`t be me if I didn`t moan, so I will. Where was the bar, during the interval, and why doesn`t the booking office take credit cards?

OK, moan over, back to the fun. The good thing about theatre-going is that it takes place in Valletta, which is a place I rather like (even if I work there) and that means that there are eateries by the sack-load. We had a bout of face-stuffing at Campanella, near Hastings Garden, and we enjoyed rather a bit.

Sunday was movie night and, being loyal subjects, we went to see Malta masquerading as France. As a movie, it was not the most riveting plot-wise and acting-wise (though the Maltese extras in the carnival scene were Oscar material) (and in case you were wondering, that was just me teasing a friend) but the filming was superb, investing our countryside and old walls with a romance that, living here, we miss.

Obviously you have to go to see this one and you won`t be disappointed when you do. I`m happy to report that the Hard Rock Café has finally got its act together, incidentally, and we got food on the table within adequate time from order.

A final irony

The e-mail address you get if you subscribe to the What Which Where through the MLP is xyz@ euroweb.net. Do I spy another U-turn in the offing?