I.M. Beck - quote unquote

Dr Alfred Sant can't swallow it and nor can I, but it's something else I ain't swallowing.

The Leader of the Republic's Loyal Opposition has said that he doesn't swallow the story that the Employment and Training Corporation (ETC) was not aware of the dodgy connections that the Swallow Garage had when it was awarded a couple of contracts by the ETC. Apparently, and this was news to me, this particular garage was involved in the corruption scandal that touched the Awtorità Dwar it-Trasport, also known as Minister Jesmond Mugliett's nemesis.

Just by way of a detour, which is not inapt when talking about the Malta Transport Authority (it seems every journey involves a detour at the moment, with all these exquisitely planned road works going on) did you notice that story in the competition, last Sunday? It seems that the story about the presidential pardon and the suggestion that was made by Minister Mugliett was spilled by someone who was not exactly happy with the way he felt he was being treated, someone who was not exactly gruntled (sort of disgruntled, you see) as it were, which tends to explain why the story saw the light of day in the way it did, giving the opposition plenty of grist for a mill that is ready and waiting to grind up even the most insignificant of stories.

And detouring yet again, as one does on the road, too, did you see that piece in the other competition on Sunday (MaltaToday, just in case all this competition was getting you confused - like our roads do)? It seems that quite a few of the Labour guys who work in the criminal law field have asked for pardons for their clients too in the past, which tends to debase ever so slightly the fuss and kerfuffle being made by the Labour Party because a Nationalist MP asked for a pardon - a bit of the old two weights and two measures don't you think?

But the application of two, or even three, or even four weights and matching measures hardly ever worries our political media, now, does it? Incidentally, just for the record, there's nothing wrong with a lawyer, be he or she Labour, Nationalist, "AzzNazz" (though I don't think there's been a lawyer confused enough to join that motley crew yet) or Green, asking for a pardon - it's a perfectly standard request, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. What is wrong is calling one pot black while your own kettles are pretty dark themselves.

But getting back to the main track of this segment, as I've gone as far off it as one does when one tries to negotiate the highways and byways of the land, Dr Sant can't swallow the Swallow Garage story being told by the ETC.

As I said, there's something I can't swallow, and that's the significance of the story or even that there's a story at all. The ETC, I know, expects the highest of high standards of professionalism in everyone and everything, even in the most insignificant thing, and I can't believe, in fact I don't believe, that the board (or whoever was involved in the swallowing of Swallow, it isn't entirely clear) wouldn't have offered its resignation immediately if, even inadvertently or as a result of the smallest of small errors of judgment, the tiniest of errors was made: Which means, ergo, that no error was made and therefore there is no story.

Quite apart from everything else, how in heck is anyone supposed to know, when adjudicating a tender or taking a decision on something or whatever, who is involved in every single company that might be involved? I had no idea, before I read of Dr Sant's inability to swallow the story, that Swallow Garage had anything to do with those two blokes who had wheeled and dealed when testing people and their driving abilities.

Pure white

Sexual harassment and victimisation is against the law. You don't need me to tell you that, I'm sure, in 2007. When something is against the law, there is some sort of organisation, generally speaking the courts or the Industrial Tribunal (the latter when the world of work is involved) that can take cognisance of any complaint and do something about it.

Isn't that a nice word, "cognisance"? It makes one look ever so erudite when one uses it, as does the practice of using "one" to describe one's self.

But I detour, as one does when driving - but you've heard that before. This obsession with detours, incidentally (and just to have another one) has been brought about by the fact that it's been well-nigh impossible to get home this week. No sooner had the Suez Canal that was being built behind San Anton Palace been finished (it took almost as long to finish as the real Canal) that the road was closed again for a week or more, to allow some filming to be done. At the same time, the other end of my street was also shut down for a couple of days, because of some cultural (and I use the word loosely) event to take place.

This meant that anyone wanting to get to Chez Beck had to go all the way up to Tal-Mirakli and negotiate a narrow alley, an exercise in wasted time and frustration that is really fun to undertake in the middle of summer. I don't mind confessing that on a couple of occasions I went against the one-way system: Our useless local council (it takes them a month to fix a broken man-hole cover but nanoseconds to book a car that is marginally illegally parked, hence the epithet) can take note and prosecute me, if it likes. This can be taken as a guilty plea.

Finding myself back on track, as I should, once there is a judicial set-up that can investigate and pronounce itself on cases of harassment or victimisation or discrimination, why was the Malta Union of Teachers (MUT) so insistent on the government making enquiries about allegations being made about these things? If the MUT knows about these things, and the government doesn't, or doesn't want to do anything about them, or doesn't think there's anything that needs to be done about them, all the MUT had to do was take the cases to whatever court or tribunal has jurisdiction and there's an end to it.

Or was this a case - as is so often the case - of people having a good old whine but not wanting to put their money where their mouth is? And before anyone runs away with the idea that you have to pay big bucks to go to the Industrial Tribunal in this sort of thing, that was just a figure of speech, OK?

This is not to say that harassment or victimisation or whatever don't exist, of course - that would be like saying that racism doesn't exist. Oh, sorry, it doesn't, at least not in our schools - no teachers felt it was necessary to go to an anti-racism course, and the MUT said that this was because teachers haven't come across any racism in the schools. Come on, guys, get real, why don't you? No racism in our schools? Sure, and there's no racism in Malta as a whole, either.

And before you run away with another idea, the idea that I'm indulging in MUT-bashing this time, let me congratulate them, sincerely, for getting the Church to see sense about gay teachers. Good one.

End bit

This week's end bit isn't much cop for anyone who wants to know where to stuff their faces: The only place we went to which we haven't reported on before was the Robert Plant concert and there wasn't any eating to write home about. Great music, but we didn't eat there.

We were in Gozo a bit, for various reasons and I have come to the conclusion that they're in a different time-zone up north.

How else can you explain the fact that the hunting season is still on? I mean, since the various organisations that represent bird-killers, such as (excuse me while I fall about laughing) the Federation of Conservationist Hunters or that outfit that glories under the moniker "St Hubertus Aficionados of Death" (or whatever) keep telling us that hunters are law-abiding souls and all that, the continuous sound of gunfire over the couple of days we were there can only mean that the hunting season is still on.

Which means that Gozo must be in a different time-zone: There is no other explanation. Let me extend my humble apologies to all bird-killers for being provocative at this point.

While extending things, I must do the same with my thanks to the organisers of the feast of St Joseph in Msida. In order that they commemorate their patron suitably, four (no less) major arteries were closed, meaning I was almost late for Mr Fornacari's superb concert. Far be it from me to deny the masses their quasi-pagan excesses, but do they have to do it on such a wide (geographically speaking) scale?

imbocca@gmail.com