These last few years I got to know the Prime Minister’s army of cheerleaders. Every day, these social media cheerleaders receive a newsletter from the Crooks at Castille, which barks at them the line of attack. Then, like orcs from that scene in Lord of the Rings, they descend upon their prey. The prey is anyone who is not genuflecting and lauding praises on a Prime Minister who is protecting his thieving mates.
The newsletter-writers at Castille believe that people’s lives in general revolve around winning elections. So, most often the instructions are on the lines of: “Bash her with that 40k” or “Write: sour grapes!”
Eh! This innate culture of losing and winning: Belt vs Floriana; Inter vs Milan; Santa Katarina vs Santa Maria; Tal-Ħodor vs Tal-Ħomor; San Filep vs San Ġużepp.
There is no concept that some people do not care who’s in government as long as it is led by people who are principled, and moral, and a good example to their children. I for one, would be okay with any government from any party, so long as it is not led by a Prime Minister who keeps money launderers by his side; or so long as it’s not a party that has a minister who “chats” to a journalist’s killer in bars; or a minister and a chief of staff accused of opening up secret companies to pocket millions in illegal kickbacks.
But the Castille Cheerleaders don’t understand this. So they follow the instructions and call me bitter. Odd choice of word, bitter. Last June, my family’s quality of life shot through the roof: now we spend time together, read, garden, take the dog out for long walks, watch movies. Our evenings became ours once again, we could finally meet up with friends and extended family and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. In short, we could finally breathe outside that dark world of politics. So I don’t understand how I could ever be bitter for regaining my life.
Is it possible that Malta’s very own workers’ party is allowing its top people to swindle the country?
However, there is a marked difference between bitterness and anger. And anger I have. Lots of it. I am angry that, for example, last week I ended up in a police station filing a report together with other activists – to insist with the police that instead of chasing activists with spoof posters they should really be calling up bar-hopping-with-hitmen-minister Chris Cardona. I’m angry that I no longer have peace of mind, because the basic foundations of society are being allowed to rot.
I am angry mostly at the Labour Party for allowing itself to be hijacked by people who just want to fatten up their pockets (at least €1.6 million, so far).
I am angry that the Labour Party is being taken for a ride by schemers Konrad Mizzi and Keith Schembri with their schoolboy humour, naming their illicit companies ‘17 Black’ – the gambling number in roulette so much loved by James Bond, and ‘MacBridge’ – presumably after Brigitta Macbridge, the girlfriend of Donald Duck’s uncle Scrooge McDuck?
Should I be laughing at the James Bond cracker? Should I be saying “Ħallihom jaqilgħu lira bil-kwiet”? Is it possible that Malta’s very own workers’ party is allowing its top people to swindle the country? Is the Labour Party happy with Mizzi’s and Schembri’s pathetic replies of “I have no knowledge of transfers and payment”? Does no one, internally, suggest to them some Vitamin B12 for memory loss?
Does no one who chose to believe Muscat before last June get angry when they watch – aghast – the unfolding of The Daphne Project – the continuation of Daphne Caruana Galizia’s investigations by Forbidden Stories, with reports from 45 journalists from 18 countries? When they read up, does no one say, goodness me, let’s get rid of him immediately and replace him with a respectable one of ours?
I fervently pray they do.
In the meantime, I’m getting the Castille Cheerleaders a thesaurus. Not only do they not know the difference between ‘bitter’ and ‘angry’, they even don’t know the difference between ‘outed’ and ‘ousted’.
Let me explain with a very factual example: The Prime Minister has been outed as covering up for crooks, therefore he must be ousted today before tomorrow.
Cheerleaders can find me on twitter: @krischetcuti.
krischetcuti@gmail.com