Hawking radiation

"I kid you not" was the catchphrase made popular by Jack Paar, who passed away this last week.

This was the first 'chair' of the Tonight Show was back in 1957, paving the way for the likes of Johnny Carson, Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien, and all the other talk show hosts, including Andrea of the eponymous Net TV programme.

At the time, Mr Paar had described himself as a kamikaze pilot, 'lucky' to be on television, and then announced his retirement at the grand old age of 47. His audience said that he made small talk big.

But back to this week's discussion on Net Television, which trotted out the hackneyed fortune-telling, clairvoyance and associated baloney. I note that the member of the panel who professed that he has The Gift did not tell us (also) that he follows the Biblical admonitions of "what you got for free, you should likewise donate without charge". Had this been so, no doubt we would have been alerted to the fact.

Since this was the first time I had come across the programme, I was somewhat intrigued that Ms Andrea kept addressing a hip-looking chap on her right as 'Father Ray' - but indeed he is, as the somewhat blurred credits (one hopes there was no connection with the topic of the programme) later revealed.

There was a time when Super One Television and Super One radio competed, so to speak, for the tinies' attention. The former used to screen cartoons at the unholy hour of 6.30 a.m., and the latter used to broadcast a story slot with the reasonable title Qumu Tfal Ghax sar il-Hin - especially if one is part of an early pick-up system.

Things have changed; television now offers replays of programmes from the night or days before, whereas on radio one may (currently) listen to the History of Music with a selection of tunes at the end.

I don't really like the idea of plunking children down in front of a set in the morning - even at the cost of peace and quiet while one does the necessary chores - but I find no objection to their listening to a radio station other than BBC.

Perhaps in another schedule, radio will cheerfully include both. One lives in hope.

And, speaking of children - is it wise to allow advertisements for such things as talismans, and associated paraphernalia, to go on air?

Zoom to the Maltese-language lesson - in this case L-Ors Koala, on page 79 of Id-Denfil Book 4.

At one point, the teacher asks his pupils what L-Istrina, i.e. the feast for which the protagonist in the story received the soft-toy of the title, was. Mhux dawk li jitolbuna l-flus? appeared to be the general consensus.

Now apart from the fact that personification was taken rather too far this time, this incident perhaps shows that despite all the claptrap for and against the set-up of the campaign its very fibres have become interwoven with those of Maltese society.

This, of course, could be construed as a compliment.

This week, Net News rose to the occasion in particularly atrocious Maltese, even worse than when we had been invited to see the Seba' Vari tas-Santa Marija.

On another plane, it would not be a bad idea for those people 'on television' whose 'working hours' 'everybody knows', to keep them.

Incidentally, when one gives private lessons, one ought to be doubly careful when stretching the truth on television - for even pre-teens can catch a liar out, if they happen to like the genre of programme in which he is appearing.

One news item that did not make it to Maltese screens - perhaps because our miscreant drivers have their cars towed away, rather than clamped, when they are parked where they ought not to be - is the clip about Angel Grinder.

Dressed in powder blue, in the style made popular by Superman, Batman, Spiderman, et al, and wearing safety goggles, he offers his services, via his mobile phone number, to anyone whose car would have been clamped (he's been there himself).

Turning up with a circular saw, he does his work of mercy and pats the would-have-been stranded motorist on the shoulder before seeing him off on his way.

I could not help noting that this situation is resolved without any money changing hands, because the latter-day hero believes it is his duty to protect fellow men (and women) from blood-suckers who scrounge on the unfortunate (diluted version of what he said).

Does the Dun Benit troupe on Super One television go by a script, or do they ad lib and play it by ear? Sometimes this seems to be the case. Unless, of course, the reverend is acting up (!) biding his time until he, too, gets the order of the boot and is sent to Siberia or at least Alaska.

Incidentally, the follow-up programme to Destinazzjoni Kanada, Il-Holma Amerikana, is now showing on PBS. Like the programme with which it alternates, i.e. Waltzing Matilda, it goes out four times, and is di-ve-streamed. However, to misquote the adage, these are the worst of times, because those of us who leave the house to work cannot really shirk our jobs or go AWOL to watch it, and our emigrants find that CET is not really their cup of tea.

I remember having said this before, but just for the record, I will repeat it. If a programme is screened once, at peak airtime, it probably has more viewers than one that is aired four times, at inopportune wedges, twice of which are shunted on to the Community Channel which is often there solely for its zapping value.