Let’s see what can I blog about. Hmmm what about politics? Mind numbingly boring. Never thought so much can be said and so much written and be utter bilge. But even saying all this is sending me serenely to sleep so let’s move on and talk about the biggest event of the year.
No, it isn’t the election stupid. It’s carnival. Yes, that’s what I’m going to write about—the maddest, wackiest thing in Malta. No,it isn’t parliament I’m referring to here. Carnival is our grand holiday before we embark on a Lenten fast and eagerly await March 9th when our future is decided and half the country celebrates while the other half mourns. Or am I confusing this with something else?
Oh no I was determined not to mention politics and I have. I promise to float back to carnival talk. Fears of rain are about so we might have a wet King and Queen Carnival. At least the place where they used to hold those garish drab dances during carnival has now been filled by—yes, you guessed it, parliament. A merry dance by a few dunces will be the tune once parliament convenes in the Piano thingie.
But what amazes me most about carnival is that the floaters—not the voting type, but the ones who create, decorate and reward us with their floats—wanted the date moved because of the election. No, said the authoritative government—we can’t move carnival because that would be sacrilege. Then, interestingly, St Paul’s feast which fell smack on the most important day of Carnival, was moved back a couple of weeks. Obviously the Pauline followers did not wish their patron saint to have to compete with the carnival debauchery. And we all know how St Paul detested anything debauched.
So carnival is unmovable but our patron saint, who rewarded us with our strict Christianity and goodness, isn’t. And if it rains and the floats get soaked he and his followers can have a good snigger as on his new day the sun shone. Enjoy our year-long carnival.