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Let the traffic jam

We live in the most enlightened of times, our most prosperous since we were discovered by the first colonisers of Malta.

Joseph Muscat and his cronies lead us so all is fine and all is rich. We have never had it so good and the best of all possible worlds is yet to come. The only snag is that if more traffic lands on us and no drastic measures are taken we will just grind to a stop.

But why say such obvious things?

We’ve heard this over and over again for a few long decades and while we all know we need to do something nothing happens.

So let’s stop discussing; let’s all shut up and, like all our other many problems, let’s just smile away and deny we have any problems.

Even when they blow up in our faces, let’s just plod on and proceed to the next hurdle. If we have it good why worry, why plan to avoid further aggravating our problems?

Why let anything stress us?

We’re the best race in the universe and our economy is on a roll so why let stupid things like planning get in the way? Let’s adopt the motto: Why worry? Why plan?

Cars keep being imported in droves while only handfuls are scrapped; roads deteriorate; road management is inexistent; road rage soars. And nothing is done.

Or rather plenty is done: plenty of talk followed by nothing. Nothing concrete, nothing noteworthy to address the traffic mayhem. National productivity loses God knows how many hours in traffic. Energy—not just human but also of the fuel kind—is wasted.

Talk is useless. I know that this plea to discuss and find a true, long-term solution, will just be more words to be flushed into the sewage system. Even our grand schemes like the flyovers on the Regional Road and the projected one in Marsa will not solve anything.

The changes should be nation-wide, holistic and long-term

The changes should be nation-wide, holistic and long-term. Otherwise all we solve is a part of the problem in our usual let’s-patch-it-up way.

After profuse swearing we do finally get to our destination: we just grumble, post silly photos of snails beating us in our car-crawl, declare that this can’t go on but go on it must.

And the authorities, as they do with everything else in their remit, stand, stare, utter a few silly platitudes but do nothing. Traffic, like over-development, will just go on. Because we are Maltese and we are the supermen of the Med.  

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