You have to admit that Herr. Juncker has a sublime sense of humour.

First, he (or someone in his Cabinet) let slip that probably the most elderly of his Commissioners was to be appointed to take responsibility for youth and - wait for it - multilingualism (this mark you, being a gent who, on the evidence of his appearances on telly before the elections, is incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together in one language, let alone a multitude) When the roars and guffaws and bellows of laughter died down, he turned the tables on us and let it be known that Karmenu Vella was to take responsibility, amongst other things, for the environment and hunting.

Gaze in awe upon the sheer magnitude of the EU’s contempt for reality, you poor peasants.

Gawp in wonder at the way Herr. Juncker has, in one fell swoop, demonstrated that, quite frankly, m’dear, he doesn’t give a damn: he appoints a former Minister of the current Labour Government, a Government that has been characterised by such a sacking of the environmental commonwealth and by such a craven capitulation to the whims and fancies of the Organisation of Conservationist Bird Killers that it would be difficult to imagine anyone who is less suited for the portfolio he been given than Vella, detto il-Guy.

But as long as he’s got a big one, then that’s fine then, at least according to L-Orizzont, who spouted breathless praise at the breadth and scale of Mr Vella’s portfolio without even raising an inkling of an eyebrow at the sheer irony of it.

It’s not only Juncker who can do what he likes and get away with it, without any of us collapsing into helpless giggles at his audacity.

Our Prime Minister took a trip to New York, apparently to flog a few passports for Henley and Whosit and while he was there, he had the brazen cheek to let it be known that our Citizenship Scheme is not there to rake in the spondoolicks and the shekels. No, not at all, what we want is talent, no more and no less.

So, if you take your Prime Minster at his word, as of course, you should, if some talented musician were to roll up and ask for a shiny new Maltese passport on the basis of his strumming or fiddling and nothing else, and this cove happened to be the best of the very best of his cohorts, with talent the size of Mars and Jupiter together, he would be given one without question.

In fact, Minister Mallia would deliver it to him personally, and perish the thought that any thought of filthy lucre would cross anyone’s mind.

After all, how else can one interpret the PM”s words?

Unless, horrific thought, for our Socialist Premier and his merry men, “talent” is measured by the amount of €uros you have against your name.