Franco Debono and his galloping pony have been upstaged. No it wasn’t JPO’s marriage vows or the Olympics that did it. Even the Olympian efforts of King Boris, Mayor of London , don’t compare to our local farce.

The Marsaxlokk debacle has now even hit the foreign press. So while we never seem to make it in Olympic medals we sure know how to have a mighty proper brawl. If we brawl while some others are protesting we immediately hit the news.

All these Marsaxlokk tough guys were fined was a few Euros.  But that is not my gripe of the day. What got me all knotted wasn’t even their cheeky tongue-popping antics in the photo that adorned the Times front page a few days ago. And what they wore in front of the poor magistrate wasn’t their fault either so all is forgiven.

What got my goat this time is that in the photo three of them have a bottle of Coke and the brand name shows in all its glory. I’m sure this was most illegal—to give space to a brand on the cover of Malta’s most authoritative newspaper was terrible and immensely wrong.

If I owned or had any shares in Pepsi I’d be celebrating and issuing adverts plastered all over the island saying we might not be the real thing but we sure are not enjoyed by such desirable types.

As usual the worst worry in these horrible instances is not the fact that we have hit the foreign press—though that sure hurts. It’s not that some bullies took the law into their hands and thumped a poor, defenceless protester. And it isn’t even that the bullies were fined a paltry sum because, it seems, the molested forgave his aggressors and by so doing all criminal charges were dropped. Living in the same locality with those aggressors must have clouded his sense of forgiveness to an extent that it became too encompassing.

What is frightening is that if it weren’t for the fuss that followed the beating the people in tents would have remained there forever. The campers decided they could camp on their chosen ground and to hell with everyone else. And then after a few years the authorities, in their wisdom, would feel obliged to come to an agreement with the campers and award them title to the land. We have seen this happen often enough.  The shanty town of Mellieħa is a sore case in point. Hey this is really rich: first I take something which isn’t mine then I’m rewarded with title. Yes that’s the way of this land—take abusively then stick together and make a big enough noise and no one will dare touch you.

Maybe I don’t drink enough Coke to give me the gall and gas to do as I please and scare the authorities off.

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