Just as I was settling down to write this, I spotted an item about how the government’s guarantee of Electrogas’s loan to the tune of €80 million has been expunged or whatever the word for it becoming a defunct guarantee should be.
Excellent news, that, our exchequer isn’t in the hole for quite a few passports’ worth of our dosh, I thought to myself, thereby demonstrating that which I’ve always known about myself, namely that I should read the whole thing before coming to a conclusion.
Heaven knows how many examination questions have tripped me up like that, when you think about it.
This is because it’s no longer an €80 million crutch to Electrogas, it’s a €360 million one.
I mean, seriously, Dr The Hon. Konrad Husband of Sai Lang “Shame on You Not Fit For Purpose” Mizzi and Premier “Smell the Coffee” Joseph Muscat, you tell us that you’re going to resign if the power station (which we don’t actually seem to need, last week’s power cuts perversely being evidence of this) wasn’t built. It hasn’t been and you don’t (resign) and you then put the country’s cash on the line for it and then flipping well quadruple the reckless bet and you expect us to stand and applaud you? Seriously?
I know it’s the silly season when you can put virtually anything into the news and get away with it but you guys have been getting away with it for far too long and you can’t really expect to get away with this too, do you?
Of course you do, you can say anything you like because you have tame formerly-fearless media mavens in thrall to you while the public at large has swallowed your porkies about the Nationalists being just as bad as you hook, line and sinker.
Considering just one episode from of our recent past would be adequate as the evidence.
Clearly, that Gaffarena fellow can get pretty much what he likes out of your government and as soon as what’s left of the inquisitive media backs you up against the wall on it, you start screeching about how Gaffarena obviously had the PN in his pocket too because Beppe Fenech Adami represented him, many years ago, on a couple of civil cases out of which said Fenech Adami would have made a couple of hundred euros, at best, legal fees being what they are.
Incidentally, a couple of Labour-leaning legal beagles represented Gaffarena too, so what? No-one is saying that Gaffarena gets what he wants because these two guys were his lawyers, that is ludicrous and only a total idiot would even think it.
The real test is this: did Gaffarena get what he wanted out of the Nationalists in government? Clearly not. Does Gaffarena get what he wants out of Labour Tagħna kollox in government? Clearly yes.
It’s no longer an €80 million crutch to Electrogas, it’s a €360 million one
When you add two to two, you get four, Premier Muscat, and no amount of obfuscation is going to change that: your government is as in thrall to Gaffarena (and others like him) as the so-called journalists to which I referred above are in thrall to you.
There’s an old but very true adage: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I’m not talking about Premier Joseph’s government here, that’s as broke as broke can be, and needs fixing. What I am talking about, though, is the Constitution under which Premier Muscat holds sway over us, which, by and large, works.
Yes, it might need tweaking here and there, however, when someone whose idea of good governance involves lamenting the fact that the chore of governing the country distracts him and his band of brothers from raking in as much cash as possible starts mumbling about it being time to change the Constitution, I start getting worried.
And when this task is entrusted, Heaven help us, to someone who is patently unfit for purpose and whose only credentials for the task are that he was instrumental in embarrassing Lawrence Gonzi and making his already thankless job even less agreeable, then it doesn’t take a nuclear physicist to work out that messes will be made.
A messed up Constitution, if you will forgive the platitude, benefits only someone who, for reasons obscure, would rather not have the inconvenience of being bound by the embodiment of the rule of law.
An argument develops from time to time about the idea that censorship should be banned and that moving in this direction is the achievement of the status of the acme of a liberal and progressive state. Speaking for myself, I’d rather people didn’t tell me what to read or watch, especially when at the tickle of a mouse I can do precisely what I like in the privacy of my own home anyway.
That wasn’t a complete non sequitur, by the way; the freedoms of expression and information are a couple of the pillars on which the Constitution relies.
As is the freedom from discrimination, I need hardly remind anyone, though in fact, I do, because, sometimes, the very same people who climb onto their very high horses to champion freedom from censorship see no awkwardness in trying to get the wearing of the burqa banned, very often on the basis of completely spurious arguments about security and the need to be sure that the flowing robes don’t conceal an AK-47 or two, meaning that nuns should be subjected to body searches on the off-chance too.
Don’t get me wrong, I dislike the underlying philosophy that makes women wear the burqa, though there is something to be said for the fact that many women choose to wear it.
But I dislike the knee-jerking that accompanies bleats about banning the blasted costume because, in the greater scheme of things, it’s an irrelevance that borders on the ridiculous, except for the fact that it gives the opportuntiy to many people to vent their incipient racism.
I wouldn’t have thought that it was the case (this is a non seq, incidentally) but there are actually two reasons to fly to Eindhoven. Not that it’s a horrid place per se, it’s a perfectly normal small modern city and it has the advantage of being served by a cheap and cheerful airline which gets you into pretty much the centre of Western Europe, within reasonable reach, on excellent roads, of places that are worth visiting.
The other very good reason to go to Eindhoven is a small restaurant called Butler’s Table, where you have no menu with which to trouble yourself because the people who run the place have a lot of fun sourcing the best fresh ingredients and putting them together into dishes that burst with taste and sheer enjoyment.
Closer to home, on Tuesday, we braved the heat, dust, possibility of rain and lousy roads to take a stroll in the area of Delimara, which, no doubt, interests you not at all because what you are interested in is whether there’s anywhere I can suggest for nourishment.
Be of good cheer, as virtually at random, attracted by the pavement boards telling us that the place was run by three sisters whose husbands caught most of the fish, we went to one of the restaurants on the seafront, called Ta’ French il-Koy (forgive the spelling, I’m relying on memory) and it was very good, both on the value for money front and on the quality/service front.
imbocca@gmail.com
http://www.timesofmalta.com/blogs