I.M. Beck - quote unquote

Did you notice, we've had a budget done to us? By the time you read this, you'll have it coming out of your ears, so I won't comment on the goodies or the not-so-goodies the PM, wearing his ministerial titfer, lobbed our way. The other reason I won't be doing this is that I'm not exactly qualified to comment anyway - something I believe I point out every year, in the vain hope that I'm camouflaging my intellectual laziness thereby, which I'm pretty sure I'm not, being as my readers are hardly that thick.

It's an interesting exercise to grab the papers of a morning the day after the budget is presented and look at the headlines, where the comments of the great and good are encapsulated.

The interesting part of the exercise is not to analyse the extent to which said great and good put their enormous intellect and wit to good use in fulfilling the task of enlightening us, the great unwashed. Nope, the interesting bit is to see if what you expected each component of the motley crowd of good and great to say was actually said by said component and, verily, they rarely fail to come up (or perhaps that should be the other way round) to expectations.

The Green Party AD chappie, therefore, had to find something to say that wasn't completely positive, so he mentioned that the government had ignored the important things - frankly, I prefer it when governments leave well enough alone and not meddle with things too much.

Then we had the various private sector bodies, which generally acknowledged that the budget was evidence of a stable and progressing economy, though the most vociferous guy in the private sector (stand up my old friend Vince Farrugia) just had to ask for a little more, which is symptomatic, really, of the sector he represents. According to Vince, something more bold was needed but it was a good budget.

The various unions, with the exception of the usual suspects (and before anyone gets uppity about the word "suspects", it's just a turn of phrase) all deemed the PM's little effort to be perfectly satisfactory, thank you, and presumably they will now return to what they really enjoy doing, which is fomenting strife and revolution (and again, I'm kidding... sort of).

Which leads us, rather neatly, to the remaining commentators, the ones who, as was to be expected, wouldn't be able to find anything too good to say about the whole exercise.

To be fair, Mr Tony Zarb did say that the budget did include some positive measures but then went on to point out that it went very little way along the road to compensate workers for all the sacrifices they had made. He also added the usual whine that the government had missed yet another chance to show respect for the International Labour Organisation's decision to reinstate public holidays lost when they fall on a weekend.

Just as an aside, for those of you whose eyes glaze over when any international talking shop is mentioned, the ILO didn't actually decide anything of the sort, it just slapped the government's wrist for ignoring the collective bargaining process, failing to appreciate that in Malta, respect for the collective bargaining process, generally (very generally) speaking involves respecting what the unions want. If you don't, then you're coming over all unilateral and despotic, unlike when the unions do precisely the same thing and expect to bask in the warm glow of public appreciation for their valiant efforts to defend the rights of the downtrodden and oppressed.

Precisely what sacrifices the workers have been making, in an economy which is getting along pretty well, wasn't made all that clear by Mr Zarb, though, of course, if you were to take l-orizzont at face value, you'd think you were living in pre-liberation Albania.

We now get to the sweetness at the bottom, if you'll forgive my butchering of the language of the Romans. No doubt I will be taken to task judiciously for doing that little thing, very possibly in open court.

According to the Malta Labour Party, which managed to be prescient, presumptuous and predictable all at the same time, which would have been quite a feat had it not been for the fact that Dr Alfred Sant is its leader, the budget was "Too little, too late".

It was prescient because it managed to get its billboards commenting about the budget up before the darn thing was actually announced, which would have been understandable had they been privy to the discussions, which they weren't so it wasn't.

It was presumptuous because it demonstrated, yet again, its utter lack of respect for the intelligence of the public, by parading a slogan that is so trite, so devoid of substance and so downright vapid.

And it was predictable because, well, it just was.

The excuse they dreamed up for jumping the gun, possibly in order to deflect attention away from the fact that there might have been a leak somewhere, was that all the pre-budget pronouncements practically predicated a prediction that it would, in truth, be too little and too late.

One wonders, in passing, why it should worry the MLP that - at least according to them - the budget was too little and too late. Too little for what, pray? For persuading the electorate to vote PN yet again? Too late for what, pray? Again, for getting the PN back into government again?

Are the lads heading up the MLP so all-fired confident that they're going to win the election, to the extent that they can rely on these blithe assumptions and facile predictions? The "Too little, Too late" slogan (and, incidentally, it just doesn't translate into Maltese, guys, you really should have thought that one through) perhaps better describes what the MLP is doing, internally, to limit the damage being caused to it on a daily basis by the bad jokes and crass threats being made on its behalf.

Still resonating

A couple of bits from last week are still resonating. One punter let me know that the MPs' parking privileges are yet another reflection of their singular propensity to achieve consensus when it's something to their advantage that is concerned. The chap concerned mentioned the pension that the Honourable Members get at the end of their service (I was going to write "productive life" but I thought that would be stretching it) in this context.

A cove by the name of Cotter very kindly reminded me that the phrase "tired and emotional" as a libel-avoiding measure was first coined in that estimable rag, Private Eye, in the 1970s, when it was one of the barbs aimed at George Brown, a Labour politician of the era.

One supposes that it is lucky for Private Eye that they don't ply their trade in Malta in 2007, as otherwise cantankerous Labour politicians of the ilk of D. Mintoff, who really should call it a day, would train the mighty artillery of the criminal law on them.

Oh come on

I had heard that Tal-Qroqq's finest were up in arms, fit and ready to take on the might of the Establishment, which brought warmth to my heart and braced me no end, especially as this resurgence in student orneriness was becoming manifest around October 5, the day when Dom Mintoff was forced to scuttle ignominiously past the students who had chained themselves to the (now no longer) railings of Castille to protest against his dismemberment of the Medical School (to say nothing of the medical profession).

You can imagine my disdain, then, when I learnt that that which had got the students to their feet in massed protest was their annoyance at the lack of parking for them at the university.

Back in the day when protests were met with truncheons and the fuzz were helped by criminals, we protested about issues that were important and we got thumped and arrested for it. Now, the KSU is resurrecting the revolutionary spirit by directing students to park anywhere they like and, if the cars (bought with the taxes we pay to give them a stipend) get ticketed, clamped or towed, the poor little students shouldn't worry their little heads, because the KSU would stump up.

Heroes, one and all.

Nourishing stuff

The weekend was one of heavy, heavy fuel (hon. mention time: what band crooned those words?) but we were at private events, for the most part, so all I can do is report that Trattoria Palazz, whereat we hadn't been for some time, served us up a terrific fillet last Saturday, while Taz-Zajbra Pizzeria, in Xaghra, dished up a heartening pizza on a damp and windy Wednesday night, when we repaired north for some r'n'r.

It's a filthy job, but someone has to do it (reporting on where you can get the food, that is) and I know I've said that before but I need to get past 1,500 words (it's a matter of pride). I've done that, so I'll sign off, hoping I annoyed Robert L. no end - he was so teed off at me last week that he fired off a couple of e-mails that were amazing in their failure to achieve even rudimentary accuracy.

imbocca@gmail.com