Seasoned bleating

Some advertisements rely on the final split second to make their point; if it is humorous, the punchline may well elicit an intention of purchase, rather than merely a laugh.

The latest advertisement for Budweiser beer proves how animals usually upstage humans onscreen. The man owned by a pedigree border Collie is keen to show his friend a trick. Fetch, he tells the animal, which obliges by trotting towards the chest fridge, opening it, and bringing him a bottle.

Disdainfully, the man glances at the other's mangy mutt. What can your dog do? He sniffs. Budweiser! the man orders, and the mongrel with the unlikely name of Fergus leaps and niftily nips the other's thigh. The bottle shoots up, and is neatly caught by the second man.

On the other hand, the advertisement for Three Hills pasta stucco has, as background music, Dido's record White Flag, which goes, in part, I won't go down with this ship... I won't put my white flag up, and surrender...which, you'll agree, is neither here nor there.

Some weeks ago, a guest on Lilian Maistre's programme was giving us a thorough run-down on the Ten Commandments.

The series was discontinued abruptly, because the guest's time and presence were mandatory elsewhere, it being Eastertide, and he was replaced with one of those "to be continued" phrases being honoured, recently, not in the expected way, but by having another guest resuming the series where the other had left off. This is, one supposes, the "S-for-Service" of PBS 'personified', as in 'the show must go on'.

It was, of course, also an indication of professionalism; unlike another instance that occurred on television this week.

A singer was a guest on a programme. Just as we were about to see a clip of hers, she was informed that something had gone wrong, and the presenter told her she would have to go out live. Her blood ran cold to the extent that the smile froze on her lips. She recovered her composure, and then sang ... in playback, because the lip-synch was out.

Something else which was even more badly unsynchronised was the repeat of the Omnibus (Education 22) interview with artist Helga Portanier on Wednesday morning. The presenter and the interviewee were mouthing the words that had already gone on air a few seconds afterwards, and this was badly disconcerting.

The same thing often happens with the news bulletin for the hearing-impaired; sometimes, especially when the words that are being signed have to be spelled out because there is no short form for them, the speaking newscaster speeds on regardless.

Another fault to be corrected is that items sometimes run on, without a pause between clips pertaining to different topics. This is probably disconcerting to those who are not hearing the spoken word.

One of the God-slots on Net Television asked us whether the Sacrament of Penance (referred to as Qrar rather than the latter-day Rikonciljazzjoni) was still 'valid', in a context that could also have meant 'fashionable'.

With the trend towards anything from career guidance to telling 'virtually' (both senses) all the world, via streamed radio programmes, of your woes - let's leave out, for the nonce, the paid versions on the couch and the mumbo-jumbo versions art of the 'seers' - the consensus appears to be that it has some pretty stiff competition, but, therefore, those who take recourse to it must be truly afire.

Be that as it may, the sacraments - and this one in particular - should definitely not be treated as joke material. The latest bumph for Bla Agenda has a double entendre where a woman 'confesses' that she has rajtu, u ergajt rajtu, to give the impression that she has taken a lover, whereas in fact, she has only watched the programme and its repeat.

When does sarcasm become rudeness? A public officer is supposed to be subjective, considering each case upon its merits, even if a caller or an interviewer is provocative. This is something that at least one person forgot this week.

There's a new newspaper in town; it's called The Sunday Indipindent (sic). What's more, this entity, in fact, actually sponsors one of the many soap operas on television.

Joe Dimech seems unduly pleased that "for the first time in ten years" PBS has placed first in the statistics listing listeners' preferences. He does not appear to realise that this position could well have been gained by default, i.e. because there is simply 'nothing to listen to' on the competition.

Meanwhile, one notes that the festival Ghanja tal-Poplu, Sezzjoni zghazagh will be screened shortly on a channel to which not all the licence-paying public has access. This is not the attitude that wins popularity, surely.

The Radio 101 7 a.m. news bulletin came out late last Thursday, and there was a naff take on the usual "technical difficulties" or "circumstances beyond our control" excuses. This time the delay was explained as incident kurjuz zghir; we were not, however, informed what had occurred.