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!

Nave Costa Concordia

We extend our deepest condolences to the families of all those shipwreck victims on Isola del Giglio.

May they rest in peace.

When you call the shots and they land on your foot

Has PM Gonzi lost hold of his senses?

We were at work when we received a message from The Times, saying that the "government withdraws ministerial pay raise, promotes three parliamentary secretaries."

Our immediate reaction? "Bleh, Franco Debono has managed to have it his way." What else could one think?

Fortunately, however, this doesn't seem to be the case. Actually it ISN'T the case. Have you read his immediate comment? Well, he's calling on the PM to resign. According to Pio Franco, the PM has erred all along in the past years. He did us wrong and so must go. Oh please. When will this man get a real life?

Does he think everyone is so stupid and gullible to believe that he means well? That he really is calling on the PM to resign because of propriety? What if Dr Gonzi had made him Minister for Justice? Would he still have said that? Oh, bugger off.

Well, we can't deny that we'd have immensely cherished being a fly on that wall, seeing Dr Debono throwing tantrums because Chris Said took what he so desperately coveted. It's not out of spite, really. But you know, karma is one wonderful thing. One can now only wait and see which of the parliamentary sittings he'll decide to skive, and how many other party officials will have to pay him a visit to appease his discomfort.

Apparently he seems to have been severely reproached - on many an occasion. Yet, today's diva-like tantrums are quite indicative of the fact that everything must have fallen on deaf ears. And, thick-skinned as he is, we shall indeed be expecting much, much worse. What a twat, really. Everybody knows and thinks that - but he can't seem to get it.

Anyhow, to return to the main reason why we're writing this post.
How to put it mildly? "What on earth was Dr Gonzi thinking when he decided to revoke the pay-rises?" will have to do.

Contrary to the many out there, we were never against the raises. "Pay peanuts and you get monkeys" is a given, and the less they are paid, the more they will seek income elsewhere, so no more shall be said.

Hence, Dr Gonzi and the rest of the government were right to vote for it. They've a whole load of responsibilities on their backs, and expecting to be fairly (as opposed to "well") paid for it is only human. Besides, many seem to be oblivious to the fact that ministers now have bigger portfolios. But that's a totally different story, which we're not going to discuss here.

The Prime Minister said, on several occasions, that the pay-rise was justified and that he has no pangs of conscience. He was very vociferous about it - and whether he convinced you or not is again a totally different matter.

It is therefore incongruent that all of a sudden he's decided to repeal it. Once you believe something is right; once you try to make sure a whole nation deems it right; you may not, on one beautiful rainy day, do something of the sort. And blaming it on the cutting of costs won't help, really.

Shooting yourself in the foot. Political suicide. There's more than one way of saying it. Dr Gonzi, you shouldn't have done that. No. It's a big mistake. And you'll now have to face the titanic consequences that inevitably come with it.

That's bad. What comes next is even worse.
Expecting that a whole nation backs you because, "hey, I was not given the cejca (sweets) I wanted. Let's bring down the government. Help me! I don't care that there's an economic crisis and Malta shouldn't waste money on an unnecessary election. I want to make them suffer, because I had planned every minute detail of all this." It's nauseating.

It's such a pity that the promotion of 3 hard-working MPs - among whom Dr Mario De Marco, who's been doing a fabulous job with tourism - had to be clouded with such personal discontent made public.

"bunch of Sherlock Holmes"

As reported on The Times, and as can be found in Article 224 of  Malta's civil code:

"if a homicide, or bodily harm, occurs at night and involves the victims breaking into the property, then no offence would have been committed."

Many are now saying that being Anglu Xuereb's daughter, everything is being done to make sure she's not incriminated. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? This is what the criminal code states, whether you are Anglu Xuereb's daughter or Joey tal-haxix's son is beside the point. Now, whether you agree with the law or not is another story altogether. 

And for those conspirators claiming that all this is being done to divert attention from the Debono-Gonzi issue, as we've seen some people stating on social networks, PLEASE GET A LIFE!

These threads speak for themselves. They're only two of the threads that are cramming our Facebook walls at the moment. To know what we're talking about, refer to our previous post here.

P.S. Names and profile pictures have been blurred out to preserve some people's, erm, integrity (for want of a better word).

Happy Birthday, Roberta Bellizzi!

I shouldn't be writing. Not now!
She would kill me if she knew I'm doing this while we're out for a nice meal - she's currently telling me off for my extensive usage of my iPhone (I've smiled & continued, thanks to the Blogger app!)

She deserves it!
Her birthday only comes once a year, & I love her too much not to share this with the world & our readers - for whom she passionately writes!

She's my & your R! She's my best friend. She's a gorgeous person, & those who know her, know I'm right!

Happy Birthday, Roberta.
You're the bestest friend one can have xx

Yours truly,
K

Think before you blab

In light of the tragedy that shook the Maltese Islands at the roots, we've decided to add our two cents' worth to the pool of, erm, wisdom speculating about the incident. Of course, we're talking about the double murder that took place early on New Year's Day.

We're no detectives, and we don't see ourselves as such, neither. However, it seems that many like to think they are. We aren't referring to those who discuss what might have happened in private. No, we're talking about the smart-asses that think they're in a position to dictate and post whatever their pitiable little brains think about such delicate cases on social networks and newspaper websites. What's worse is that at times, newspapers themselves do this. What people fail to realise is that whatever is published on the internet can be read by everyone, which makes it all the more important for everyone to get their facts right before claiming anything publicly. 

Duncan Zammit's brother posted a comment on Andrew Azzopardi's blog which he shared on his blog, and which we feel captures the essence of what we mean perfectly. Needless to say, the victims' memories must be respected, no matter what happened in reality. 

Yet it's not only them we should respect, but also those they've left behind. 

Kif tghidha?

Dear readers, help out!

I remember that when I was at Junior College, the late Dr. Mifsud Chircop... (yes, the one always reminding us that it was HIM who went through Prof. Friggieri's dictionary, and therefore giving the green light for it to be published - those of my year will certainly remember; those not having lived the experience, well, that's a pity!) 

...Anyway this lecturer used to throw tantrums whenever I said "politikant" and not "politiku": for he taught me that the former means "dilettant" and the latter "politician". (Yes, I passed my Maltese A'Level.)

However, presenters on TV and writers on newpapers make a distinguishable use of "politikant". And, to make my life more miserable, politicians themselves use The Word ad nauseam when they describe their job and that of their colleagues. They call each other 'politikant' and no one ever whinged.  

Is it that we have only "dilettanti" in our parliament? (You politicians said that, not me!) Or is it that rules within the Maltese language have shifted? (I know they made a big fuss about some changes - which I personally abhor {it's skonD, not skonT...but anywho.)