I.M. Beck - Quote Unquote

The time is approaching, now that summer is almost over (yesss!!) when the rags on the MLP Machine side of the fence will start heralding the elections and the referendum. We have had a dearth of such prognostications over the summer, not only because the country has been watching the sun climb ever higher over the yardarm, baking us into plaintive submission.

Well, at some point or other the silly prophecies are going to turn out to be true because the Constitution only gives governments just so much time to govern (even if in 1981, Mintoff's government ignored this concept and clung on even after the electorate told it to take a hike). So we're going to be having an election, which will need to be won by the Nationalists if we're to take our rightful place in Europe and not hang about in limbo the way Mintoff and KMB seem to want.

You may ask why I think that winning the election is necessary to get us into Europe.

Well, you see, it doesn't take a political commentator of much genius to work out that, given Alfred Sant's continued espousal of the notion that the will of the people expressed in referendum is as nothing, he (Alfred Sant, that is) must have something more up his sleeve than his arm.

Pretty obviously, to my untutored mind at least, he is contemplating doing an Achilles and retiring to his tent when the nation is called to say "Ay" or "Nay" to this weird idea the Nationalists have that Malta is well up to being a full member of the European Union.

And, of course, running away from the fight and sulking in his tent all on his tod is not what Alfred Sant will do, because that would be only one vote not in favour of Europe - he would become an irrelevance. After all, between voting for a concrete proposal and voting to start thinking about setting up a few Alps in the middle of the Med, there is not much of a choice, is there?

No, it is my considered opinion, pretentious preening prat that I am, that Dr Sant will call for, hint at, generally let it be known that he is not against a boycott of the referendum.

At first blush, that might seem to be a good wheeze, for those of us who think that a majority for joining is just what the doctor (not Doctor Alfred Sant, of course) ordered. But think on it, if you will.

Let us for a moment assume we'll end an ear to Doctor Alfred Sant when he comes to bury Europe not to praise it and stay away from the referendum. The "Ays" will carry it, by a country mile.

Let us go on, for another moment, to assume that the Nationalists have teed off the country so much in their tenure of office (gentlemen of the jury, take note) that the electorate, having voted yes to Europe, will think, well, we can be rid of this bunch because we're in Europe now, or as good as.

Ah, but therein hangs the tale, because in our scenario, Doctor Alfred Sant's cohorts of the lesser laundered populace will have stayed away from the referendum, thereby giving the dear chap grounds for saying that he, a professor of the democratic process who learned his craft at the knee of the masters (Mintoff and KMB) is going to ignore the will of the people and cause us to don Ledehosen and take up yodeeing.

Do you follow my drift?

Do you have to be an Alf?

In his piece in The Times some time ago, yet another Alfred, one of the Grixti clan this time (I wonder if it is a PRe-requisite for a Labour honcho to have the name Alfred) wrote that "our society has become so used and indifferent to certain types of behaviour, not least by certain members of the political class, that it appears that like in the 1920s and 1930s America, anything goes".

I am bemused. Rendered almost, but not quite, speechless. What is it about MLP Cogs in the Machine that they are doomed to repeat history but not remember it?

You don't have to go back to the United States of the Prohibition and the Mafia to find examples of violence and corruption. No, that's way too far, both in terms of miles and in terms of years.

It's far easier to go back just a bit more than 15 short years, to the era before 1987, when violence was a way of life and when corruption was the order of the day, even if the culture that started then has not necessarily died away even now.

Mr Grixti may or may not have been around then, because so far as I can see, he is no but a lad, but even I, a youth of callow years compared to the old fogies rallying around the KMB/Minotff Isolationist Tandem, can remember the really fine days of my youth, when we would wake up in the morning not knowing whether the day would bring lunatic economic policies, further bans, attacks on legal gatherings, shootings at Nationalist clubs, bombings at random and sundry other examples of the vicissitudes that young Grixti laid at the door of the States, thinking that we had forgotten.

Who pays?

A report from the Local Tribunals caught my eye some days ago. For those of you who park correctly (or couldn't be bothered to contest the tickets) the Local Tribunals are charged with slapping fines on the naughty people who park with gay abandon, litter the place or fail to send their offspring to school.

Of course, in order for the fine to be slapped, the alleged miscreant has to be proved to be a miscreant, by means of evidence and testimony. This means that people have to turn up, take an oath (rather than swearing one...) and do what is necessary in order for the wheel of justice to spin smoothly.

It seems that a functionary of the Department of Education failed to do this little thing a couple of weeks ago, resulting in a lack of evidence being forthcoming and the alleged law-breakers being found to be innocent in the eyes of justice.

This rather annoyed the Tribunal Chair, with some justification, it being rather off-putting to have turned up, respectfully attired, in the heat of August, just to be told that the department's rep had, for reasons that concern us not one jot, not turned up.

It seems that the union, though which one I am not sure, had directed the employees concerned not to make an appearance, apparently because the time at which sittings are held is not deemed convenient by the union.

The result of all this was that the employee was fined Lm25 for each case in which an appearance was not put it in.

My question, for which there are no prizes, is this: who is going to pay the fine? The employee concerned (ha flipping ha) the union (even harder ha) or you and I?

Go on, have a guess.

Theatre in the frame

I missed the opening salvos, so I hadn't quite got the point about the missives and epistles flying between supporters of Maltese language theatre and others who - according to the former - were not such ardent proponents of the vernacular.

Apparently, the Manoel Theatre was in for a bit of stick because it was not seen as promoting the language on stage.

Well, in one of a series of smart, if unsung, moves, I read that the theatre management has established a filtering committee in order to receive dramatic efforts in Maltese, with a view to putting them on if they come up to standard.

That, folks, is a good wheeze. I know that there is plenty of good drama out there, begging to be put on. Contrary to what many people seem to think, drama in Maltese is not restricted to the dross that is put out by the television stations, where the values of good writing, directing and acting seem to have flown out of the window many years ago.

Top bank

I was amused to read that Bank of Valletta has won an award. Not that it is surprising that Bank of Valletta has won an award, or that this in itself is amusing. They're a good bunch of lads and lasses in the jolly old BoV and there's no reason at all why they shouldn't win awards.

Congratulations and all that. Sincerely. Without a trace of tongue (in cheek, that is).

OK, OK, OK, I'll get on with it and tell you what amused me. It was the way the win was reported, that's what. BoV was placed in the same league as JP Morgan and others of that ilk. Now it's not that BoV are any better or worse than foreign banks - in fact, at the retail end of things, they're a sight better than most banks I've dealt with over the counter.

No, my point is that BoV won "Best Bank in Malta" and in winning this, they shouldn't have been put in the same paragraph as rather larger banks that don't, actually, function in Malta.

Just thought I'd point that out, mainly because I'm a pain in the butt who enjoys pulling people's legs a little bit when I think the wool is being pulled over my eyes.

After all, it's such an odd sensation to have something that feels like a fringe in front of my eyes.

Leading me into temptation

Those of you who know me know that I have something of a weakness for ensuring that I do not waste away. In other words, I am something of a pig.

Just when I thought it was safe to come out, those two guys from the States, Ben & Jerry, thought they'd array a panoply of temptations in front of me, just perfectly placed near the Eden Cinemas to ensure that I fall into the trap of their wily ways.

A large tub of choc chip with cookie dough in vanilla ice cream is guaranteed to satisfy, let me assure you. It is, in a word, superb. I had met this concoction some years ago and forgotten the bliss that suffuses one when one is being an outright hedonist.

Just a small moan: could someone have an engineer's gander at the spoons they supply in order to shovel the stuff from tub to cake 'ole? It needs care to ensure that you don't snap the thing and can you imagine the pain if you have a full tub of this ambrosia and no implement with which to implement your desires?

And another small moan, this being a critique and not just a shower of praise. Could someone gee up the staff just a bit? When one is off to the movies and has stopped in for a quick indulgence, one is not amused at being ignored.

I know it's early days, but snip this lackadaisicalness in the bud, why don't you?