Why try to teach an old dog new tricks? Why?

Like many other thousands, we decided to watch Xarabank last Friday. If nothing, we felt like helping Peppi reach the top spot in those surveys. Haha.

Adoption was Friday's topic. Or rather, the nitty-gritty of it. But you already know that, don't you? The ladies at the grocer's will have already filled you in by now.

In any case, we aren't about to discuss who should or shouldn't be allowed to adopt. In fact, it's something wholly different that we're on about today. Alas, since the Maltese hardly see the wood for the trees when it comes to bringing up solid and real arguments, this topic goes hand in hand with any other.

The Church. That's what we'll be talking about here. Unfortunately, many on this island have that very tedious proverbial bee in the bonnet. And hell if it annoys us.

Why, oh why, do so many have to bring up religion in every discussion? Let's leave aside those who do it unconsciously, who still deserve a good spanking. But the most horrible ones are those who do it to sound all mighty and patronising - they hector you, and there's no way you'll ever have a decent conversation with such people. Spanking won't do with the latter, so shove a good-sized carrot down their throat when you get the chance.

Yes, such people are pedantically infuriating. But we're not here to discuss them, either.

While watching Xarabank, one could easily notice that many Maltese believe the Church should move on; should revamp its views; should, should, should...

We are using what went on on this last Xarabank episode merely as an example, because in reality it is very indicative of the way many people seem to be discussing things these days.

Those who know us are well aware of the fact that, albeit Catholic, we don't really and truly practice much. We believe in God, we hasten to add, lest the rector decides to commence legal proceedings (you never know!). Yet, those being so preposterous are just as annoying as the zealous Christians. That's sheer nonsense. Yes, simply nonsensical.

We don't want to be mean, but a spade must always be called a spade.

How long has the Church been there? Yes, right. It's been there forever, so to speak. It has been holding onto the same beliefs since its conception. Some things have changed slightly, but that's pretty much it.

We disagree with many things the Church professes to be cast-iron facts, lest you think we're some brainwashed, wacky ones. However, we simply cannot expect to knock on the Pope's door and hand him a list of things to be changed, because hey, w e don't really fancy those bits.

No, you can't do that.

If that were possible, don't you think that there wouldn't be a need for religions at all? Those who believe, the real ones, not the fake pious ones, do so because they want to believe in something beyond their comprehension. Whether you like it or not is beside the point, really.

Much to our dismay, we always get the gibberish talk lately. This time it's because of Alison Bezzina raising the question about adoption. Some months ago it was because of the divorce issue. Coming up next will probably be abortion. We'll see.

No matter how many points some people will come up with, the Church cannot possibly revamp itself. If it does that, it will be doomed to collapse. No religion can - nor should - evolve just because we now want it easier. We are not bound to abide by its rules, after all. It was very easy for us to vote YES for divorce, for example - once you've a functioning brain then you'll know what's good and not, and you needn't wait for the Church to tell you what to do.

What these people should be doing is something else. They should insist that the Church has no say in things that pertain to the state. The Church must not be privy to certain delicate matters and must not stand in the way of policy-makers. Unfortunately, though, neither the state nor the people have the guts to put the Church in its place and let it know that when it comes to matter of legality and statute, it has no say.

It is much easier to jump on someone's bandwagon rather than saying what really should be said. And the Maltese are worse than parrots at times. "What Cetta says at the grocer's is what I'll say at the ironmonger's" is too much of a horrendous syndrome pervading these islands.

People desperately need to start thinking things through a little longer before uttering such nonsense, whilst being totally oblivious to the weight their statements carry.

Disney reinterpreted!

They have all gone through numerous adventures, and we always tagged along, like the best of friends..

We grew up with them. And we might be 'big' now, but when we're sad, or someone lets us down, we all rush to grab that DVD & tuck it in that player... And everything - magically, as always - seems brighter!

They need no introduction. They are the magical Disney protagonists!

The following is a series of marvellous photos taken by the brilliant Annie Leibovitz, who was commissioned by Disney to work on an ad campaign. A campaign which is singular in its kind. A campaign which can be easily defined as a great work of art in its own right! 

All the protagonists have been interpreted by a celebrity... 

...check your favourite ones out!

Belle (Penelope Cruz) & The Beast (Jeff Bridges)

Evil Queen (Olivia Wilde) & Magic Mirror (Alec Baldwin)

Ursula (Queen Latifah)

Wendy (Gisele Bundchen), Peter Pan (Mikhail Baryshnikov) & Tinker Bell (Tina Fey)

Ariel (Julianne Moore)

Alice (Beyoncé), Mad Hatter (Oliver Platt) & March Hare (Lyle Lovett)

Prince Philip, from Sleeping Beauty (David Beckham)

Cinderella (Scarlett Johansson) 

Snow White (Rachel Weisz) 

King Arthur (Roger Federer)

Blue Fairy, from Pinocchio (Julie Andrews) & Apprentice Fairy (Abigail Breslin)

Pocahontas (Jessica Beil)

Jasmine (Jennifer Lopez) & Aladdin (Marc-Anthony)

The Genie, from Aladdin (Whoopi Goldberg)

...And something a bit modern, yet equally enchanting:

Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp)

...And to her goes our big Thank You:

Annie Leibovitz

Bob the builder, can we fix it?

Has it ever hit you that we're a generation who grew up in comfort and luxury. We went to school, numerous after-school activities, hobbies, toys, gadgets and God-knows-what. Mummy and daddy always did everything for us, took us everywhere, bought us everything...

Now that we're in our early twenties (scary, yeah!), we are still being babied by our parents. (Denying it would be futile at this point.) Our foreign readers may find this ridiculous, embarrassing perhaps - with good reason! However, living on this tiny rock gives us very little opportunity to venture out and brave life's storms on our own as hardly nobody ever leaves home before they get married, or hit 30. Some are so reluctant to leave the nest that they bring their spouses and future offspring to live with their parents. 

So anyway, a couple of days ago we got talking about how useless we are at practical stuff. There have been plenty of times when we needed a bulb changed, a plug replaced and such miscellaneous hiccups that regular people have to deal with in the daily running of their households. We are ignorant to these things, unfortunately. But it isn't just us, is it?

These generations are fixated with studying. Getting those goddamn O'levels (or you don't get a job), A'level (because everyone has O'levels, and you must be better than them if you want to stand a chance), Degrees (because now that you've gone so far, you might as well get it), Master (because everyone has a degree, so a Master's degree is crucial) ...thank God we haven't gone as far as making Ph.D an imperative need - not yet. Anyway, what we're saying is that we study, and study, and go out, and go out, and we never, ever get to learn anything that is really helpful when it comes to daily needs. (OK, there might be those who did pick some things up, but they aren't many, are they?) Of course, all our lives we've had our dads to take care of such stuff. 

Then again, this seems to be a generational problem. And no, it's not a problem pervading only these islands. The dads seem to be able to put the Brainiac team to shame. They can do everything, fix anything. We, on the other hand, are insanely useless at everything.

And what are the consequences? Well, whenever you need to get something done you have to get the so-called professionals to do it. You fork out the money when you could've done it yourself in 10 minutes. Yeah, because time is another problem, isn't it? You cannot simply do it when you most need it. No, you need to wait for them to find a slot for you. All very understandable, of course. Yet, it's annoying nevertheless.

Case in point? We had a watch that wouldn't work. So what do we do? Easy, you go to Sterling (where we bought it from) and have it fixed. The lady there said they must replace the battery. We immediately said "yes", you know, what else do you say? 4 days later they texted and we went to pick it up. 5 euros. That's what we had to pay. Had we thought of it, something the previous generation would have probably done, we could have bought a whole pack of those batteries for the same price - if not less. It's a stupid example perhaps, yet it perfectly renders the idea, doesn't it?

We'd love to know what the generations to come will be like and how much worse the situation will be. Haha.

Start crying. Now. OK?

Do you remember the time everyone was frenziedly liking and sharing those morbid pictures of battered animals and abortioned babies? Do you remember how truly annoying that was?

Well, those sharing seem to have realised they were becoming an atrocious pain. 

So they left. That's all good. 

A new craze, however, seems to be pervading the net. It's equally irritating and no less pitiable. 

As a matter of fact, many have just been divinely enlightened.
How? Oh, it has just dawned on many people that in Africa there's starvation. Oh, and people actually die over there. You see, in other countries they do not. Who would have thought, huh? 

The victim, this time round, is Whitney Houston. 

Don't you believe us? (We know you do, but we need to say that to share the pictures!)

                               

       . . .

And if that weren't enough to fancy your amusement, there's more to come. 

Many have just discovered that soldiers die for us. They have only starting dying. In the past they lived forever for enroling in the army. 

But, hey, no one has yet started crying. 

Next thing we know will be thousands fetching their tickets to go to African countries and help out. Because non-Africans don't die, remember? And others will chain themselves outside the White House - and outside Castille - for all wars to cease forthwith and for all soldiers to be recalled. 

It's not that we don't think Africans should be in our thoughts. It's not that we think soldiers dying for their country aren't praiseworthy. They are. The media do their best to remind us every so often. 

Nothing of that, really. But people sharing such pictures without realising the weight they carry is plain stupid. 

It's all a question of 'monkey see, monkey do' really. And it's annoyingly frustrating to have your wall filled with photos of a dead diva being called into question because, oh well, she died now, we can use her photo juxtaposed to dying and starving people!

And that's quite apart from the fact that people like Houston (and the other ones) have dedicated their lives to entertain us. But that's a different story altogether, and we had better not put too fine a point there.

.....same thing had happened when Steve Jobs died.

IIi, what a spexjal trawser you have, today!

We live in Malta. All the Maltese can speak English. The Maltese are, in fact, native speakers.

Bollocks. That's all gibberish talk. If you think it isn't, then don't read on. Instead, we urge you to close this page.

These islands, or rather their inhabitants, are incredibly proud to have English as an official language. This is further emphasised by the fact that all the people are perfectly capable of speaking it.

Children don't need to go to school to learn it, for all Maltese are born bilingual. If some aren't, they pick up the language at home, alongside Maltese. Yes, that's how it all happens. 

As a matter of fact, when children reach Junior 1, they are already able to grasp the arcana of the language, hence mastering it to perfection. Don't you believe us? Oh, you should have a word with the teachers teaching in primary schools. They would simply love to let you in on a couple of surprises. Although we don't really wish to let on too much, we believe you deserve to know that a good number of them feel practically useless in that classroom when it comes to teaching The Language. So much so that many of them have decided to refund part of their salary, because in reality they don't teach English, at all. They don't have to.

Yes, the Maltese are perfect speakers of the language. Why have we drawn such a conclusion? Again, that is elementary, Watson.

If one were to sit for the MATSEC Advanced Level English exam, they can do so without having a clue about how to speak it, because you see, a language shan't be spoken. God forbid and Heaven forfend that ever were to happen.

That's precisely why many foolish ones believe that all the Maltese are able to speak English without any difficulty. Yes, because by not letting them speak they have the chance to ignore the catastrophic level of spoken English. They may know the language well on paper (not quite) but they certainly leave much to be desired in their speaking skills.

"You have a spexjal trawser today" - as one teacher of English, colleague of ours, once told us - is merely an example. So are the infamous "stuwdyints", "tenk yuw", "haaam bergerrr", "orrajjt" and many, many more.

The same people speaking in this manner might impress the examiners with very (pedantic) flowery language, but that certainly cannot substitute for a sheer lack of fluency. 

To cut a long story short, those who, for example, make 'tree' and 'three' sound like the exact same word should, uhmm, what's the word for it? Ah yeah: they should be failed in this section of the exam. 

Speaking is - and we hope you see eye to eye with us on this one - a pivotal part of a language, hence it should be tested like any other aspect of a language. What's more is that it should have the same weight as any other componenet of the exam.

The sheer disregard of such crucial assessment has led Malta to this sorry state of affairs with which we now have to contend. 

And we had better make it quick, or we will no longer be able we take pride in "Inglixx iz maj lengwicc".

Thank Goodness, somebody on the MATSEC board has finally had an epiphany and come to realise that speaking is actually one of the four skills to be mastered when learning a language. (Yes, only two of those skills are regarded at the moment) 2013 is the year when speaking will start to be tested at Advanced level. Will it have a drastic effect on the general level of English in Malta? Certainly not, yet it's a start.

When calling someone an animal is an insult to the animal itself

A cat was found crucified in Mosta. Sounds like a morbid scene from a horror film, right? Well, it isn't. This past year, we've got sick of hearing about battered and butchered animals. This particular episode is actually the 4th in a series of crucified animals found in Mosta - all within 3 months.

So for starters, neither of us is a huge animal fan. Having said that, we are disgusted at the mere concept of somebody ill-treating an animal. How can anyone hurt, let alone crucify or bury alive a cat or a puppy. If this person can stoop as low as to do such a despicable thing, imagine what the same person is capable of doing to a human being. Are such people to be trusted with children? Should they even be allowed to interact with society?

Yet, we have this nagging feeling that there's something else at the root of this problem. As we mentioned earlier, there's been a surge in these stories. So what's the deal? Is it that these things happened before but were never reported, or is it that these sick people crave attention?

We truly hope the authorities are on it. They have more time on their hands now - until the UoM rector decides to have some other student arrested on the grounds of censorship, that is.

It's high time we broke that strong sense of omertà that seems to pervade these islands. How, exactly, are we to believe that no one saw anything? No one. It keeps on happening, but everyone is oblivious to whatever happens outside their houses. Oh, please! Sometimes you'd think we live in some twisted Sicily stuck in the 800s.

In any case, let's get to the root of these barbaric acts.

I will follow you, I will follow you... my statue!

Dear Readers,
Hope you're all making the best out of St. Paul's shipwreck...

Unfortunately, we couldn't quite enjoy it. You know, semester 1 ended a while ago, but the assignments that came with it are still menacingly looking at us from that To-Do list. You see, had the UoM decided to give its students a day off yesterday - after weeks of exams - we could've enjoyed today's holiday.

Anywho, you're also quite familiar with our love for procrastination. And we couldn't not indulge in it... not least when today should've been The Day to do it. So at one point we switched the TV on and tuned in on a Maltese channel - the best for amusement and a good laugh.

Well, guess what we had to endure?
No, wrong. It wasn't the funny girl pouting all the time to read (or massacre) the news. (It would've been better!)

Instead we had many Maltese walking behind a statue.

Then, at one point, in the church, the people all started crying their heart out and singing. If there weren't the statue there, you would've thought they are the survivors of some horrendous tragedy. You would've thought a beloved relative had just passed away. Or that the cat had just eaten their birdie.

Then the camera focused a bit more on St. Paul's statue ...yes, the statue. And it sort of hits you.

You see, were these people to show such compassion when, say, crucified cats and dogs are found... Or were they to be as passionate about their jobs as much as they are about the statues, these blessed islands would be in such a better situation.

Ah, the Maltese, so ready to venerate a statue... yet so reluctant to respect thy neighbour.

Stating the rainingly obvious

It's rainy. And we know it.
Yet, some very I've-nothing-better-to-do ones believe it's their duty to tell us the raving obvious! So they get hold of their keyboards and type away these very original statuses - 'it's rainingg!!! :s' We understand that the Maltese are rather deprived when it comes to these things... but let's not overdo it, shall we?

However, that's not the only way you realise it has rained cats and dogs in Malta.
No, there's a more appallingly tangible way.

How? Just have a look at this:

Now that's a photo taken next to Gzira's secondary school.
Let's just ignore the trash running around for the time being.

We were in a cab, on our way home, right after work - we felt like pampering ourselves, and Arriva can't match Ecabs when it comes to comfort.

Anyway, the driver had quite a problem avoiding that thing because cars were parked on the other side of this rather narrow road.

In any case - why on earth didn't the Local Council act on it immediately? ...you know, with kids having to go through there, it's not something to ignore. And even if it weren't for the kids, they should still do their jobs! ...and if they think that the biggish stone put there is enough, then they should all be dismissed.

We just had to stop the driver in order to take a photo to share with our readers.
The drivers from the cars behind all nodded as we're sure they noticed we were doing so to report it. And we duly did!

We took this photo at 11am and we were told that nothing had been done about it till 2pm!

P.S. What's even more worrying  is the fact that such incidents are not one-offs. Potholes - and we're not talking about the slight surface ones - are a bit of a common sight in the streets after it rains.

The epitome of local talent. Sure!

Another year, another Sunday. The Sunday on which one discusses and, with the wisdom of hindsight, praises or - more often than not - lambasts the whole thing.


Many say they don't watch it; that it's a waste of time. Yet, for some strange reason, on The Night they get ill and don't go out. But hey, they watch a DVD, not the show. This category is also referred to as 'the lame ones'.


Many others, after cramming our Facebook walls with comments, completely engulfed by the hype surrounding the show, claim that Malta should stop taking part in it. This category is called 'the hypocrites'. First they indulge in it, then they try to act all cool.


We aren't the biggest fans, true, but we watch it. We have a whale of a time commenting and seeing what they'll come up with. It's arguably better than carnival, really.


It's funny, watching it you get the feeling that many of them are at a loss when it comes to answering "what to wear?". Horrible and inadequate colours, redundant and ugly jewellery to complement (read: ruin) the outfit, overly stretched dresses and disastrous hairdos always manage to elbow their way through, not to mention the caked-up faces. Yes, it's the most kitsch night of the year.


On a positive note, however, this year's show had less faux pas than usual. Yes, guys, we know we were there commenting and lambasting with you on social networks. Granted. All the same, while we usually have all the rainbow colours scratching each other on the same dress and much, much more, this year we had far less to trash when compared to previous years.


A miracle to be attributed to stylist Carina Camilleri? Well... she must have had a tough time censoring people like JAnvil and The Air Hostess. Contrary to what many are erroneously insinuating, she didn't pick a dress and force people to wear it. They weren't (at least not all) designer pieces - Kaya herself said that she had Doris make hers. And despite the strenuous research, we didn't succeed in finding her collections thus far. In fact, at this point we think Carina's own words are to listen to:

“I would not choose to wear most of the outfits but one must realise that styling(and that is what I do, not design) with the limited resources, budgets, timing, body shapes plus keeping to the person's personality is a challenging task. It really is much easier to sit on a sofa and slag everyone. I know, and it is also a lot of fun.”

What perhaps was the biggest disaster in this edition was the choice of presenters. Appalling won't even start to describe it. We probably have never had such a flop on that stage. Not even Montesin and her big mouth, as insanely irritating as she is. We missed Valerie's eloquence. We were supposed to have two people at it. And we did. We had a girl who pronounces a name one way one minute and something totally different the next. Then we had Ron, whose presence up there was more fit for a butler - if you want a lame clown for a butler, that is. When will they learn?

Then we had the songs. If it's very good quality you're after, then this show is not really what you should be watching - for crappy and cheesy songs predominate! OK, there are a couple of decent ones, but on the whole, the lyrics are... well, they're not there. The music is generally an ugly ripoff. You kow, you hear a song and it immediately remind you of another. And why, really, why do they pick famous songs to 'emulate'?


It's really infuriating, inasmuch as those penning these songs really think the people are uncultured and gullible enough to believe it's something original. (Is that, perhaps, the reason why the Maltese composers so adamantly opposed the idea of having their foreign counterparts in the equation too?) Gone are the days when the Maltese merely listened to Freddie Portelli and Bennie u Tonia. If Maltese singers ever want to make it overseas and perhaps claim the coveted top spot (block voting aside), they should really get rid of the crappy songwriters who have been spamming these contests year after year. They're rubbish, get it?


And then, after you listen to all of the 24 songs on one night and a second time to the final 16, there comes the time for the results. Oh yeah, the results. You don't get them before some torturous entertainment. The hosts, one on one side and the other on another, ask some moronic questions to the singers. Is that their perception of 'entertainment'? Those commenting didn't seem to enjoy it much. OK, asking questions is always part of it. BUT... Ah, there's a big 'but' to it. The questions must be challenging ones and not, for example: what's hidden under Kaya's shirt. THAT is something we DON'T want to know, dear Ron and Elaine. 

And we weren't the only ones realising that. Along came gorgeous and brilliant Anggun and she promptly noticed that all the attempts made by the incredibly talented presenters were falling through. In fact, she tried to inject some humour to save the night... and for some minutes there it all seemed like a decent night.


Then, after some miserable pieces from last year's Eurovision winners, our winner was announced.


And boom. You say to yourself: "Why the heck did I waste so much watching this?" or "Are the Maltese for real? Why are they doing this, again?"


Kurt Calleja won. He did best with the Maltese public. The song is, how should we put this... probably 'crap' will do! Nothing makes sense in that song. Nothing. The lyrics are practically non-existent and it bores you. It seems like the Maltese have now decided to go with what is easy, light and somewhat catchy. And let's face it, a couple of "this is the night" make up more than half that song!


Keith St. John, from Un Peu de Musique aptly put it when he said:

 “this is also reflecting in "popular" music. (...)rather listen to LMFAO (lyrics consisting of wiggle wiggle wiggle i work out) than an artist who makes sense in his lyrics and is delivering a message or a thought.”

Then, on that very Sunday, you tune in on TVM... you see Hadd Ghalik, a Maltese Sunday show, where Kurt usually showcases his talent, and you see the audience there. And you say to yourself: "Course he wins, course he wins!"


P.S. You also say to yourself: "thank God trash Deborah C didn't win". Uh Oh!