A 'super' coincidence, Julia?

Let's get the boring bits out of the way, shall we? In the coming days, the ethics board of the Institute of Maltese Journalists (IGM) should be publishing its judgement on an sleazy story published in Illum. Joe Mizzi, the former PBS chairman, was caught on tape is a state of stupor with tv cameras zooming in on him and, tellingly, with no one in sight to give him a hand. Although we don't know, and probably never will, there is a strong possibility that Mizzi was the victim of a 'super' set up, probably with his drink being spiked.

Franco can't attack himself

As a lawyer, Franco Debono has every right to represent Cyrus Engerer in a judicial protest against government over the leaking of his police charge sheet. Neither should Debono be prevented from taking on the job because he is a member of parliament. There were many instances in which lawyers who are also Nationalist backbenchers take their government to court on behalf of their clients.

So far, so good. But Franco Debono is not just a lawyer and an MP. He simultaneously wears a third hat. As a parliamentary assistant to the Prime Minister he is part of, in and represents government. It was Lawrence Gonzi who appointed him to the post, gave him an office in Castille and involves him directly in government business.

Edgar the Godfather - The Final Chapter

To conclude the trilogy, Coppola takes over from Spielberg and moves his cast and crew to the Police HQs in Floriana and the square in front of Xara Palace in Mdina.

Facts first. Edgar Galea Curmi (left) head's the prime minister's political secretariat. As luck would have it, he's also Cyrus Engerer's godfather. Soon after his godson resigns from the PN, his godson's father, Chris, is arrested for possession of marijuana.

No sex, just drugs & rocking logic - The Sequel

While the first movie was all about sex and scorned lovers, for it's sequel Spielberg delves into the world of marijuana.

Chris Engerer, Cyrus' father, was arrested for possession of a small amount of marijuana. The police clipped the handcuffs on Engerer Sr's wrists just six days after Engerer Jr defected to Labour. Could it be that the PN executed a nefarious plot to punish a turncoat by setting up his father's drug bust?

Sex, no drugs & rocking logic - The Journey Begins

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this summer's blockbuster coming soon to a theatre near you. It is the first part of a trilogy being produced by Stephen Spielberg on our shores as I write. The journey begins ...

Marvic Camilleri (left) and Cyrus Engerer, had a relationship which ran its course. Things seem to have turned sour and the former went to the police to accuse the latter of circulating pornographic images of him on the internet. Engerer was hauled in for questioning. Presumably convinced of his innocence, a few weeks later Engerer himself asked the police to bring charges against him in court.

You wanna pet this guy?

You are all for animal rights, right? And you are probably all for a sustainable welfare state for humans, right? Now would you agree to putting the two together to create, well, an Animal Welfare State?

What is an Animal Welfare State, you ask? It's quite simple really. Any one who decides to own a pet instantly puts an obligation on you the taxpayer to subsidise its medical care. Your neighbour's small crocodile needs dental work? You pay for it. Someone's chihuahua is psychologically disturbed because it wants to be a labrador? You, the taxpayer, foot its behavioural therapy bill.

Thanks Carlos, you took us to heaven

Santana's concert was one of the best to ever be put up in Malta. What made it so? I could rattle off a list of ingredients. There was the signature guitar sound of the man himself, the unflappable bass anchoring it, the multicoloured inventiveness of the three percussionists, the warm raunchiness of the two singers, the tidal waves of the keyboards buoying the entire band, and much more.

Forget Nescafe, Cyrus is the real instant one

“I resigned from the PN and joined Labour. However, on the [Sliema local] council I am independent ... They [voters] chose me for my abilities and because they knew me, as an individual, not as a party.” So spoke Cyrus Engerer.

Let me see if I get this straight. Engerer praises the PN and Lawrence Gonzi to high heavens but resigns from the party a few days later. He instantly joins the Partit Laburista and claims to have been instantly taken into Joseph Muscat's confidence. The latter is supposed to have told him what the party policies are, even though he has told no one else. A few days ago Engerer instantly turned from a Gonzi to a Muscat flunky, calling on us Gozitans from his facebook page to come out and meet the Labour leader on his summer tour of our fair isle.

We are not stupid, your Excellency

The barbed wire around the Libyan embassy in Attard is taking its toll on the state of mind of it's resident, his Excellency Saadun Suayeh. Suffering from diplomatic cabin fever, he is losing his grip on reality beyond the wire.

Unlike many of his Libyan diplomatic colleagues around the world, Suayeh has not resigned from his post. In other words, he has not cut himself off from the putrid, murderous, almost genocidal Gaddafi mafia still under siege in Tripoli. Why?

The ghost of marriage past

Minister Tonio Borg does not seem to have realised that the people voted to introduce divorce, not something which is sort of like it. I say this because he proposed an amendment to the divorce bill which shows that he is still living in denial.

In brief, Minister Borg wants the divorce law to say that, in fault-based cases, after the couple has settled everything in court, signed on the dotted line and gone their separate ways once and for all, one of the parties would still enjoy a right of succession. So, if a couple obtains a divorce and the one who is considered to be at fault dies, say, 14 years later, the other party would enjoy an inheritance right.

Jonny il-Kajboj can afford a better hair cut

So far, the reform in the public transport system has been a cock up. That the people fuming - physically and metaphorically - at the bus stops are hankering for the heaving, yellow clunkers which were sent out to pasture show its extent.

Arriva, an international public transport brand, is just not delivering yet. People were prepared to accept teething problems. You do not replace a decades-old transport system and get it right on the first day. But the problem appears to be running deeper. Something, somewhere is going very wrong and the sooner it is identified and sorted the better. That much is obvious.

I wish I could introduce you to this guy

Mario Muscat's uniqueness was evident the moment I met him. After many years in Canada, in 1989 I was a wide-eyed new employee of the Nationalist Party. One day I entered the lift and in strolls this elegant man wearing a gorgeous camel jacket.

When the door closed I saw him being suddenly being yanked by it as he started screaming, 'My arm, my arm'. Since the door was fully closed with the rest of his body flush against it what I saw in front of me was a man whose entire arm had been chopped off.

Cyrus Engerer is not gay

I don't know enough about Cyrus Engerer to pass final judgement on his mettle as a politician. During the referendum campaign I was struck by his calm determination and courage. He not only made his unwavering pro-divorce voice heard in his anti-divorce party, but also co-founded a movement, Stand Up, to promote his views.

It's happening already

"In this past week I have met and learnt what Labour is planning and I really feel comfortable with it. My opinion is still that the Labour Party should discuss these plans with the public and disclose what its policies are." What an extraordinary statement by Cyrus Engerer, just a few hours after switching to Labour.

Joseph Muscat had declared on Xarabank that he has no intention of unfurling his plans in front of the country now. He will do so only in sufficient time before the election. To which Arnold Cassola had aptly retorted that the panel might as well go home and return at election time.

I told you so ... 16 years ago

It has become fashionable to criticise the church / state agreement regulating marriage annulments. Particularly now that divorce is being introduced.
I am reluctant to say it, but I told you so. Not now but 16 years ago, when the ink hadn't dried on the agreement (True political correctness, The Malta Independent, 5 March, 1995).
At the time, it was not an easy thing for me to do. Divorce was advocated only by nutcases and criticising the church was blasphemous. And, the man who signed the agreement was the same one who was signing my monthly pay cheque, Eddie Fenech Adami.

Bondiblog Express: we deliver (well, sort of)

If you have been enjoying this blog you might want to have it delivered to your doorstep, in a manner of speaking. There is a box to the right of this post labelled "We deliver (well, sort of)". Click on 'posts' and/or 'all comments', choose your favourite cyber courier and you're all set to have it delivered to your cyber doorstep.

Lawrence should strike, not Domenic (updated)

Domenic Azzopardi, was about to pilot Air Malta pilots towards a strike. He met the prime minister in a last ditch effort to avert it and after three hours they did. As luck would have it, I am now in possession of the pilots' collective agreement. 

The package includes the following

Please, please me? No, thank you

You've come across it haven't you? The radio DJ who ends his programme with 'nispera li ghazla tad-diski laqtet il-gosti ta' kulhadd'. The billboard announcing some festasajf or xitwa or whatever promising to provide entertainment 'ghall-familja kollha'. Or the clothes shop which claims to have the most comfortable house coat for grandma, the coolest goth T-shirt for your pasty teenager and blouses straight out of Carey Bradshaw's Sex & the City closet. The restaurant which has Chinese spring rolls, Maltese timpana and English breakfast on the menu.

I'm with Joseph on this one

Joseph Muscat and the Labour Party have tabled a parliamentary motion calling for a debate on the Eurozone's dire financial situation and its effect on Malta. Good idea. Greece is a basket case, so are Ireland and Portugal and Italy is beginning to look like another one, although typically more elegant. The financial picture looks like a very worrying domino game with Malta teetering at the southern end of the continent. So Joseph Muscat is right. A parliamentary debate at this time is vital. And the government seems to concur.

I have nothing against gays but ...

'I am not racist but I don't want Arabs living next door to me.' 'I have nothing against gays but if my son tells me that he is, I would throw myself off Dingli Cliffs.' Sounds familiar? When a Maltese person starts a sentence with "I am not (fill in the blanks) ... " you can rest assured that its remainder is going to demonstrate precisely the opposite. What I have to say below will hopefully stand this cultural trait on its head. I will sound like I wish to deny gays a right but in effect I am doing the opposite. At least I hope.

Immediately after the divorce referendum, there were rumblings that this was a turning point, that the time had finally come to push for other 'rights'. Liberals had parted the Red Sea with the divorce rod. Now abortion, euthanasia, gay marriage and the legalisation of drugs should simply be ushered in without further ado. 

So long, Mrs Fenech Adami

It was one of those moments which, as it was happening, I knew would be imprinted in my mind in detail for as long as I lived. Yesterday morning a doctor came out of the ITU ward and told us that overnight Simon had made substantial progress on all fronts. Above all, he was now conscious for the first time in three days. Without hearing the rest of what the doctor had to say I walked on air into the ward.

Rock is life, Simon's life

Excellent news from the ITU in the bowels of Mater Dei Hospital. Over the last twelve hours, my 35-year old nephew Simon, who suffered a massive heart attack on Sunday, made a fantastic recovery. He is conscious for the first time since Sunday. We're not out of the woods yet, but the sunlight is visible ahead.

When I was able to speak to him for the first time this morning, he was still groggy after four days of being pumped with sedatives. His first words to me were, 'This is weird, where am I'. I told him, 'What is weird is that you are pulling back to life. You are a rocker and rock is life.' He smiled gently, slowly lifted his hand and made the rockers' sign. It was one of the happiest and most beautiful moments of my life. 

Domenic Azzopardi doesn't want 72 virgins, Tony Zarb does

This is Domenic Azzopardi, an Air Malta pilot. Pilots gross an average of  €65,000 a year. On 16 July he is leading his colleagues on a strike because of reforms in his company, reforms without which it will go bust.

That Domenic Azzopardi and his colleagues make an average of €65,000 a year is not an issue. They deserve every penny and probably more. What is wrong is that it is he who is leading the troops in a strike which will achieve nothing and cause mayhem at a very delicate moment. A pilot is doing his utmost to expedite the crash Air Malta.

Tried to hide your shame, Ton?

If you've read the post "Toni Abela's indecent exposure" you might wish to join me in a little detective work to get to the bottom of a little mystery. If you haven't read it, you can't join us I'm afraid.

Without fail, every PL press release gets aired on ONE TV with the same militancy as a gospel passage from the pulpit. So last night at 7.30, I plonked myself on the recliner at my new ITU home in the bowels of Mater Dei to watch One TV's newscast bash me around with their owner's press release. The local news sailed by, nothing. The foreign news, the boring local news, nothing, the really boring local news, nothing. And they went to sports news. Weird, I thought. Why did the PL station not report a PL press release as it always does?

Go forth and multiply ...

Is there something missing in your life? Are you still looking for the right path to your true self? Or do you just want to pretend you're busy when the boss is around at work or your mother in law is visiting at home? Well, your search is over. On the right hand side of this page there's a box, or what the techies call a gadget, labelled "I read BondiBlog. Do you?" Click the ominously labelled 'Follow' button. I will do my best to lead you astray.

Toni Abela's indecent exposure

I am writing this post from the ITU at Mater Dei, where I have been living 24/7 with my family since Sunday evening. We are tending to Simon, my 35-year old nephew who suffered a massive heart attack and is still fighting for his life. Simon lost his mother Sandra, my sister, when he was only eight. And the years in between have not been happy ones either.

Yesterday, Toni Abela, the PL deputy leader, came over to the ITU to visit our neighbours, the ailing Mrs Mary Fenech Adami and her family. Seemingly shocked on spotting us, Toni Abela came over to show sympathy while I struggled to tell him how Simon's is a textbook case of an unfortunate life. As I escorted him to the Fenech Adami room, since he didn't know where it was, Toni Abela asked me to pluck up courage and pick myself up. I was not the Lou Bondi he knows, he told me. I thanked him and replied that flesh and blood is flesh and blood.

300 Spartans ? Nah, just 60 wankers

About sixty Maltese Arriva drivers did not turn up for work on the first couple of days of business. Did they have a legitimate reason for taking such a draconian step at the outset of a veritable revolution in the country's transport system? Not quite. They had no industrial dispute with their employer and their own union, the GWU, is not supporting them. Even the PL has stirred clear of the matter, at least so far.
 So who are these people and what are they up to? The telltale sign is that most are former drivers of the now defunct xarabanks. You know the type. They like to keep the top four buttons of their shirt undone and insist on wearing khaki hot pants. These are the sort of men who had been used to leeching public coffers, treating commuters like cattle, holding the country to ransom on a whim and attacking the police on the steps of Castille. It is a frame of mind geared towards bravado not bravery, operettas not operationals, rashness not rationality. The transport system used to exist for them not the public.

How is she?

"How is she?" I wrote in an sms to Beppe Fenech Adami yesterday morning. I was anxious to know how his mother was faring. Who could have told me that within less than twelve hours I would be at Mater Dei's ITU, next door to the Fenech Adami family, waiting for news about a member of my own family. Simon, my 35-year old nephew, suffered a massive heart attack. Following a long interminable night, he is still in a "stable but critical condition".

Intermittently, members of both families popped out to console each other. In the middle of the night, Eddie himself came over to see how we were doing. Even during such a dark moment for him he found the strength to be there to share ours. The mark of a true gentleman. When as a politician he used to say that what distinguishes the Maltese is that we care, he was speaking from the heart, his own heart.

Between the maduma and the torca

The seasonal lull in politics and public debate has set in. Yet this year it might be short-lived. In less than a day parliament will be debating the second reading of the divorce bill which will turn the electorate's resounding verdict into law.
There was never, and there still isn't, any question about the people's will becoming the law of the land. By all accounts, around two thirds of the House will put divorce on the statute books in the sweltering heat of August. A rather symbolic end to an issue which by the PM's own assessment xeghlet il-pajjiz ("fired up the country").

A beauty spot or a wart?

This is one of the most picturesque spots this country can genuinely boast of - the view of the Qolla l-Bajda from Xwejni, Gozo. And we certainly boast about it in many tourism promotion pictures. Yet take a closer look at the road leading to it, from which I took this picture this morning. It is a complete and total mess, more appropriate for off roading than for elegantly escorting tourists and locals alike to one of the most beautiful spots on the islands.
 And to add insult to injury, the same road runs alongside the historic Roman salt pans, a glimpse of which you can get on the left side of this picture.

Hey nigga, you're an asshole

This is the first entry of this blog and I thought it might be a good idea to use a faux racial slur plus a swear word in the title. I have no compunction about pinning them to the forehead of the man in question. A man, mind you, only in a manner of speaking. Because Mr.Snoop Dogg, is not quite a man. He is an obnoxious, spoilt and overgrown kid. And above all, he has no talent.

It is not so much that he walked through the airport with his shirt off that makes him comparable to a donkey's rear. Some superstars should be allowed their eccentricities and brushes with the law. Even a goody two shoes specimen like Paul McCartney was once caught trying to smuggle drugs and got off rather lightly. But of course, Sir Paul is a real superstar and that is why he never defined himself as such. Mr.Dogg isn't one, and that is why he does. The former will be a superstar for eternity. In a couple of decades, the latter will be remembered only by his children. But let us sigh, close one eye, and indulge Mr.Dogg. Let’s permit him to be a pretend superstar and saunter through Luqa airport baring his puny chest.