Victor Scerri surprised no one who knew him when he fell on his sword last Tuesday. It is the measure of a man when he does the right thing and he is now free to fight his case as a private citizen, expecting to enjoy the rights and privileges due to any other private citizen.
He will not, of course, get to enjoy them. The baying crowd will continue to bay because that is the nature of the game in the media age. Perception is king and the perception that Dr Scerri took advantage of his position has now been ingrained on our consciousness by the megaphones of the self-appointed guardians of the people's cultural and environmental heritage and it will take more than doing the right thing to erase it.
And before the self-appointed guardians take umbrage, let me point out gently to them that anyone who can say that "the people never asked for a Parliament in the capital" and say it with a straight face cannot really expect to be taken to be anything other than self-appointed because a banal statement like that debases one's credentials enormously.
In the interests of fairness, let me also point out, much less gently, to the cops that kow-towing to demands that Astrid Vella be investigated about her alleged libel of architect Robert Musumeci was craven in the extreme. The dear chap and his legal beagles should have been told that you don't investigate libels, you prosecute them if requested so to do by formal written complaint (as used to happen in the days of Dom Mintoff's Labour) and that's all you do.
Anything else smacks of heavy-handed intimidation. Shameful, heavy-handed intimidation, at that.
Dr Scerri has rather painted Joseph Muscat into a bit of a corner, though, hasn't he? The story broke last week about Dr Muscat's planning permit, the one that apparently broke all records, achieving a momentum almost as meteoric as his own rise to the dizzy heights of the leadership of the Labour Party. His permit was granted with such breakneck speed that it was done and dusted even before the statutory consultation period was over. I'm not saying that it was handy to have friends in high places, as young Dr Muscat and his good lady had at the time, but it can't have done his cause much harm, can it? Nothing wrong with having friends, either, as there is nothing wrong in trying to get the best from your assets but perception is as regal in Dr Muscat's case as it is in Dr Scerri's.
So it's over to the Lil'Elves, to tell us why the people shouldn't expect Dr Muscat to tell us what he's going to do about this perception, for all that it was not created by the self-appointed ones and their megaphones.
Sunday's show at Luxol proved a number of things, such as that Joseph Calleja sings like a god, that Gillian Zammit has an enormous talent and that Chiara can hold a note with the best of them. It also proved - to me if not to his adoring fans, who applauded him more loudly than Joseph Calleja (forgive them, Lord...) - that Michael Bolton is pretty much over the hill and that he has a self-image that is untroubled by any consideration that he is only a pop star.
Who else would dare render Nessun Dorma with Joseph Calleja lurking in the wings? I hope that Michael Bolton had the grace to blush when he was shown precisely how the song should be sung.
The show, such as it was, was pleasant enough, though having paid €35 to stand at the back, I did rather resent being treated to a half-hour "20-minute" break 45 minutes into the show. And slick and snappy the whole thing certainly wasn't: serves me right for not sticking to my original resolve not to bother, I suppose.
Turning to nourishment of the outer rather than the inner man, there's much to report this week.
On Saturday, we were kindly invited to the opening of D Venue in Xagħra, which promises much: watch this space. On Monday, we fetched up in Marsascala with an appetite for fish. La Favorita was open and it was sublime, really a remarkable meal. You don't go there for the décor, you go there for the food.
On Wednesday a business lunch turned into a very good meal at Capistrano in Old Bakery Street, where I'd never been before.
imbocca@gmail.com, www.timesofmalta.com/blogs
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The corner painting
From Dr Pawlu Lia on behalf of Dr Joseph Muscat
IM Beck attempts to balance the gravity of the former PN's president's Bahrija ODZ planning permit case with a passing reference to a story rejected by the PN's own media.
This so called story was, in fact, carried by a blog dedicated exclusively to hate spin of the lowest order (very tellingly, IM Beck does not stoop so low as to name this blog).
Evidently, the story – an allegation that way back in 1998 Joseph Muscat obtained a MEPA permit to demolish and rebuild his parents' house in a development area faster than it ought to have been granted – has not been published in the PN's own media because these know that the facts show otherwise.
If IM Beck were to do his homework, he will find out that this time he has, to quote the gentleman's own words, "rather painted himself into a bit of a corner".
Let me assist my dear colleague and friend with the facts.
The process for the application was initiated on the 23rd October 1997. The application was validated by MEPA on the 22nd January 1998. The case officer submitted his report with a recommendation to grant permission on the 23rd February 1998. The Development Permit Application Report was sent to the Applicant’s architect on the 26th February 1998. The architect sent his comments on the report on the 4th March 1998. The application was reviewed on the 12th March 1998, and finalised on the 27th March 1998 – that is well after the statutory consultation period. The permit dated 27th March was posted by MEPA on the 3rd April 1998 and received on the 9th April 1998.
The application was a straight forward one completely in line with the structure plan and MEPA’s approved policies.
Construction works started eight months after the permit was issued. It is clear from these facts that there was no undue haste.
Pawlu Lia