No 1 disc jockey

What exactly makes a person call himself the world's No 1 disc jockey? Does he shout louder than the refrigerator size loudspeakers?

Does he specialise in sing song modulation of his voice to irritate his listeners or does he motivate his dancers to more frenetic action with their bodies, encourage them to drink more, smoke more and sweat more in a nightmare atmosphere of flashing lights, noise, choking unbreathable air and of uncouth individuals who trample all over you as if you did not exist?

On the radio, is it an essential requirement for him to talk his way through a record, to interrupt that record before its ending and then do the unpardonable by failing to announce the title of that record and its performer?

If there is anything worse than a disc jockey, it is a Maltese disc jockey who is as original in his presentation as a conveyor belt product in a factory. He imitates the foreigner but does it badly and it is not just his accent that lets him down, it could be his constant twiddling with the knobs and levers on his console or it could be that he is in the wrong profession or trade.

Those coloured strobe lights have a lot to answer for. World No 1 disc jockey indeed!