Viewpoints

Pop Stars are known for their predisposition to hide prima donna propensities (even when they are males) - especially when loadsamoney is involved. Just look at all those duets sung when one of the aforementioned stars is waxing, and the other waning - or those sung by proponents of different genres, to make a double killing, as it were (altogether different from killing two birds with one stone). Look at Elton John and Luciano Pavarotti; Britney Spears and Madonna; Dido and Eminem; the list is endless.

The story is somewhat different when there are two people presenting a programme on the media. It loses or gains according to the couple's dynamics. Or their reflected glory.

This week we had ample proof of this on at least one TV and one radio station. I was never much for remembering dates, but somehow it stuck to my mind that when the French were honing their Republican skills, in 1789, George Washington was elected first President of the United States.

He looked askance at her when the answer given by the viewer did not match the one they had on the script. But, ever the gentleman, he let it flow though he had his doubts; he was not about to contradict her on air, and anyway, she appeared certain of the (wrong) facts.

This is not the kind of programme, apparently, where the notary is present all the time in case of contestations by the public. As likely as not, the assistant producer looks up the information on (one) site on the Internet. The (wrong) answer won a viewer her prize, and the first American President was accepted to be Abraham Lincoln who, then, is wrongly placed by all the reference books I consulted as the 16th President.

This mistake was supposed to have been rectified yesterday, but by then this column would already have gone to press.

Later, on a radio station, they gave us the drink-of-the-week (again) - going by the name of White Lady. "This is your pet corner on the programme, isn't it?" asked one male of the other. "You bet!" was the reply. Such an example to our youths, who must love the music and the platter chatter in this type of programme (I take it that since one of the ingredients was mentioned by name, it must be a sponsored slot - however, there was no mention of this, so it must be another of those subtle ploys of brand placement).

Joe Mifsud, having been Journalist of the Year, knows full well that some patterns on clothes ought never to be worn on television, because they strobe; and the jacket he wore on Follow Up is a case in point. His only excuse is that he was interviewing Joseph Ellul Grech, and therefore, was too intent on producing cause to heed effect.

In Italy, "behind the news" programmes are different; not for them a talking head, stills, and newspaper cuttings.

We were all shocked at the "woman with eyes of ice" who killed a colleague simply because "she was happy, she had everything". The outside broadcast crew invaded the privacy of all those concerned; and even had one co-worker say that the killer appeared to have been "trapped in a time warp" because she "wore a raincoat and travelled on a bicycle".

It is amazing how hindsight causes us to interpret things that, if we would have known with foresight, we could have prevented. Had we wanted to. Because some people actually think it's fun to ostracise others from their circle and watch them retreat yet more inside their shells, perhaps with the aid of substance abuse.

The rest of my family, for that matter, are well on their way to doing this to me - but only when Becky comes on air. I have developed the nasty habit of saying things like She's going to drop it, accidentally-on-purpose, malicious meanie. Or Bet he has the money hidden behind his back. Or... but that would be telling. In any case, I think the posters of Becky and Jaz on the hoardings are past their sell-by date now. It would be an azzjoni denja ta' nota were they replaced with something more recent, unless the whole point of the posters was as in the second paragraph of this piece.

But the worst invasion of privacy this week came from the Station of the Nation, no less. On Wednesday, during the 8 p.m. news bulletin, the news division probably thought it could add substance to Josephine Attard Sultana's words. Seeing that this lady is one of the few people in Malta who never talks through her hat, a still of her, or an onscreen copy of her press release, would have sufficed.

In an utterly inappropriate, deplorable and heartless gesture, they took the easy way out and included footage showing the scene of a recent fatal accident, with the blood of the victim as a dreadful reminder of what had occurred. When PBS can no longer delineate the difference between a soap opera and real life, the state of affairs is indeed dire.

Politics always leave me cold - but just for the once I cannot help commenting about the Budget - or rather about the comments made about it by Net and (vs?) Super One. On the former, the comments were all sweetness and light. 'They' pounced upon every dire prediction 'the others' had made, and worried the dead donkey to smithereens.

Meanwhile, doom and gloom issued palpably from the latter's microphones. 'They' swooped upon every scent of a promise 'the others' had made, and thrashed the tell-tale whiffs of positivism to shreds.

One of those disc jockeys who make sure we get our daily dose of trivia recently informed us that one Ernest Vincent Wright wrote a whole book without using the letter e (the letter most often used in the English language) - except for those in his name and in the word written.

On Maltese television, the letter one sees most often onscreen is doubtlessly "D" - we have the txtmsg STR82DPOINT, and then there are D-Mix and D-Bate too.

The Data Protection Act was insisted upon so much in schools ("you cannot photograph children in a way such that they are recognisable, even if the activity in question is a class activity, when the picture will appear in the media, inclusive of cyberspace).

On television, this by-law, rule, or what have you has never even made it to the studio for it to be thrown out of the window. Children throng to meet Princep Zring, and all the rest of the children's programmes' presenters, with varying degrees of success.

Sometimes, moreover, they have the limelight focussed upon them, albeit in an attempt to obtain help that otherwise would not have been forthcoming. This does not make sense... unless it's a take-off of Dr Harry Vassallo wearing orange [not green]; Dr Eddie Fenech Adami wearing yellow [not blue] and Dr Charles Mangion wearing purple [not red] in the Rainbow record concert.