An election looms—yawn and triple yawn—and we can’t seem to get it out of our system. You can run and you can hide but the election fever will get you. Or the leaflets will get to you. And can someone tell me how many billboards can be set up per square millimetre? Definitely can ask Guinness to record us as the most billboarded land in the globe.

When the election is over a sea of blue, or reddish-blue, will engulf the land. Not much hope that our own practical joker—l-ajkla—will be sweeping into parliament.

It would be supremely fitting if he holds the balance of power. Then we will be having more of the same. In the last legislature we had Franco Debono (Franco who?) with his clownish antics and in the next it would be the eagle. Sounds ever so bird-brained but oh how entertained we all will be.

Also, if the eagle man does get into parliament it would be the most fitting place for him and he for it. Some evil tongues who don’t like Gonzi have compared Piano’s new Parliament to a pigeon-loft. And I’m quite sure the pigeons would welcome a fellow high-flier.

But fear not, when the election result is announced we will move on and forget all about ghastly politicians and their stuff. After a day or ten of mayhem in the streets, we will moan and rant about our party having lost and what should have been done and what will surely be done in the coming five years. The winners will get all set to govern or drive us down the chute.

We, the electors, the ones who supposedly hold the real power, will be put aside and forgotten. But still the electors will analyse, find fault and flog a dead horse into pound burgers. Oh, and the poor greens will cry foul (again) and announce they have made inroads towards their nirvana of 2000 votes because they will have increased their share by 0.5%. I hereby predict that by the next millennium they will elect their first man to parliament.

How I love our politics.