Known as the ĠieżuJież, the inseparable duo of Gieżu Casha and Jesmond (Jież) Mula, go on walks around the island casting gems of criticism and golden ingots of advice among the swine. Their views are radical and therefore controversial. I have arranged with the editor to feature them in this space on a trial basis. So if this column disappears as mysteriously as it has arrived there could be three possible explanations. (1) It is insufferably tedious; (2) it is too time-consuming and ill-rewarding, or (3) there is a massive walkout by other writers of this paper protesting against unfair competition owing to the sustained brilliance of ĠieżuJież... This walk takes them past the Sirens Waterpolo Club in St Paul's Bay.Ġ: What's that? Are they shooting a Batman film?
J: Batman what?
Ġ: That building? Next to Sirens? It has fins jutting out, all over; surely that's Batman's garage! Where Bruce Wayne hides his Batmobile...
J: U ejja Ġież; that's the new public convenience.
Ġ: U ejja Jież; that's an abomination.
J: Well, if you say so.
Ġ: I do say so. It's much too large. Horrendously theatrical. Obstructs the attention from the seascape and the Wignacourt Tower. I remember the previous piss-place. A modest thingy which adequately served the call of nature. Why this ornate, glorified piss-pot?
J: Progress?
Ġ: Prostate you mean. Never imagined St Paul's prostate would develop such a big ego!
J: I'm afraid that's the way it is these days... look, right across Il-Menqa right? In between the boats' inlet and those high buildings, there's the church right? Now it's not easy to spot I know, but there was a time, and the old sepia postcards bear me out, when that chapel, used to dominate the scene. The view from where we stand was perfect, beautifully balanced, the line of vision impeccable... look at it now! Were he to return St Paul would not know where to go shake his viper...
J: Perhaps the Labour HQ? Or the refurbished stamperija? Everybody's welcome there now.
Ġ: Once we were pajjiż tal-Mickey Mouse; now even Mickey wants out. Instead we've become pantomime country!
J: Come Yuletide we'd have at least four simultaneous pantos.
Ġ: Over 33 per cent of the kids live with a single parent. Maltese teens top the EU alcohol-sloshing list. Panto does them good.
J. I've developed an antidote to rectify the EU barometer as far as alcoholism is concerned.
Ġ: What's that?
J: To stop their kids from drinking the fathers have to drink to excess themselves.
Ġ: Nonsense! Given that reasoning this generation should have the best environmental conditions in the world. And Dr George Debono won't have to cycle up to Castille and then find the long arm of the law waiting to jot down his particulars.
J: It's his fault. Granted he came to present a report to the PM he should have taken his bike with him and parked it by the PM's desk. That way his bike won't be nicked.
Ġ: For God's sake the guy had just cycled all the way from Sliema to present his report on pollution!
J: They don't come better than good old George! On arrival at Castille, the police should have fired those cannons to salute him. Why are you laughing?
Ġ: Just thinking aloud. That pollution report will end up in the hands of the same politicians who, a few years back, were flaunting the fact that Malta has the biggest car population. In their wisdom, they were boasting that each family instead of one car had two or three. Now that's rich, they said; the acme of prosperity.
J: Roll on the pantomime!
J: Batman what?
Ġ: That building? Next to Sirens? It has fins jutting out, all over; surely that's Batman's garage! Where Bruce Wayne hides his Batmobile...
J: U ejja Ġież; that's the new public convenience.
Ġ: U ejja Jież; that's an abomination.
J: Well, if you say so.
Ġ: I do say so. It's much too large. Horrendously theatrical. Obstructs the attention from the seascape and the Wignacourt Tower. I remember the previous piss-place. A modest thingy which adequately served the call of nature. Why this ornate, glorified piss-pot?
J: Progress?
Ġ: Prostate you mean. Never imagined St Paul's prostate would develop such a big ego!
J: I'm afraid that's the way it is these days... look, right across Il-Menqa right? In between the boats' inlet and those high buildings, there's the church right? Now it's not easy to spot I know, but there was a time, and the old sepia postcards bear me out, when that chapel, used to dominate the scene. The view from where we stand was perfect, beautifully balanced, the line of vision impeccable... look at it now! Were he to return St Paul would not know where to go shake his viper...
J: Perhaps the Labour HQ? Or the refurbished stamperija? Everybody's welcome there now.
Ġ: Once we were pajjiż tal-Mickey Mouse; now even Mickey wants out. Instead we've become pantomime country!
J: Come Yuletide we'd have at least four simultaneous pantos.
Ġ: Over 33 per cent of the kids live with a single parent. Maltese teens top the EU alcohol-sloshing list. Panto does them good.
J. I've developed an antidote to rectify the EU barometer as far as alcoholism is concerned.
Ġ: What's that?
J: To stop their kids from drinking the fathers have to drink to excess themselves.
Ġ: Nonsense! Given that reasoning this generation should have the best environmental conditions in the world. And Dr George Debono won't have to cycle up to Castille and then find the long arm of the law waiting to jot down his particulars.
J: It's his fault. Granted he came to present a report to the PM he should have taken his bike with him and parked it by the PM's desk. That way his bike won't be nicked.
Ġ: For God's sake the guy had just cycled all the way from Sliema to present his report on pollution!
J: They don't come better than good old George! On arrival at Castille, the police should have fired those cannons to salute him. Why are you laughing?
Ġ: Just thinking aloud. That pollution report will end up in the hands of the same politicians who, a few years back, were flaunting the fact that Malta has the biggest car population. In their wisdom, they were boasting that each family instead of one car had two or three. Now that's rich, they said; the acme of prosperity.
J: Roll on the pantomime!