Here we go again, I said to myself, with a degree of ennui - no sooner does someone, in this case the PM, come up with an idea to do some construction than everyone and her brother start chipping in with their idea.

When will people realise, once and for all, that it is the function of columnists to give you your opinions?

The fact that this new fangled thingy called the InterWebSuperHighway or whatever it is lets anyone who can jab at a keyboard lay down the law according to him or her from on high doesn't mean that it is mandatory for everyone to do it.

Just kidding, really, 'cos the comments section in the electronic media sometimes (only sometimes) make interesting reading.

There's also some satisfaction to be had in seeing no less than three of my blogs in the "Most commented" chart - the fact that many of the comments are not exactly adulatory is by the by. There's only one thing worse than people getting at you al the time: it's people ignoring you.

So it came to pass: the PM suggests that it's about time to do something about that low-end faux-Moroccan souk that passes for the entrance to the capital (can we take out the architect of City Gate and shoot him, presumably posthumously?) and everyone starts sticking in his tuppence worth, for what it's worth.

Not to put too fine a point on it, about flippin' time and then some.

If I had my druthers, I'd turn the Opera House ruin into a memorial for the war dead, cleaning it up into an outdoor performance space, but since that's not going to happen, we should be feeling moderately honoured that Renzo Piano has been asked to make a few suggestions. He's got the pedigree, having produced a pretty good design a few years ago.

What we certainly have to avoid is having the great unwashed, yours truly included, having any sort of say in the design or anything like that. I'd not interfere in the way a brain surgeon fiddles around inside my head (except perhaps to point to the right end of the Beck Bod) so there's no reason why I (to take myself as an example) should expect that my opinion on what a decent design is carries any weight.

The "I know what I like and like what I know" school of criticism and appreciation, whether it is of art, music or architecture, finds no place when deciding on what to do in a public space of the importance of City Gate.

In fact, can we start calling it Bieb La Vallette or something, to dispel the lingering bad taste that I sense on remembering that it was in Dom Mintoff's time that the neo-fascist architecture foisted on us by the previous Nationalist government was christened with its inelegant title?

Still on the subject of food for the brain, on Tuesday, we went to a concert at the Manoel - an Italian oboe player and his pianist brother or cousin (or that was one heck of a coincidence) both of whom were veritable masters of their art.

I'm not qualified to comment on whether they were excellent or merely very good, though I'd tend towards the former, but I have to say that the auditorium wasn't exactly bursting at the seams.

I'm not sure what needs to be done about this - maybe making the price of entry lower might be one way to go about it, but whatever it is, having more people in the house would be so much nicer than having performers of such high quality playing to a relatively sparse audience. After the concert, we shot off to Mdina to have a look at the Carmelite Priory museum, which was opened officially a couple of hours before.

It's an excellent piece of work, sitting opposite the equally excellent (can something be equally excellent?) Palazzo Falson, giving visitors to Mdina a great double-whammy.

It seems the Carmelites are going to be reviving the residential facility they have in the building. I wonder whether they've given any thought to the idea of creating a hotel project on the lines of the Paradors in Iberia (see, when I can't remember whether it's in Spain or Portugal, I bluff) making them some filthy lucre with which to perform their role in society.

No particular recommendations for nourishment this week since I was in Boring Brussels over the weekend. We had a couple of good meals but the only restaurant whose name I remember is Chez Vincent and this is because we had to Sherlock it out. It's about the only place near the Grand Place where they don't stand outside the door trying to entice you in, if that's any help.

imbocca@gmail.com, www.timesofmalta.com/blogs

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