Post-budget Lorna is here. "Thank God It's Lorna" has resumed her crusade against all things Nationalist. Including her unwitting hairdresser. The shine has not been lost and the colour of the article remains sublime. A variety of hues are utilised by the wordsmith to transform the red/blue contrasts into a Caravaggian Chiaro/Scuro of mental imagery. Her firm command of the language allows the crossing of metaphors to fall quietly into the background and not interfere with the main plot where twenty-first century Malta is the new Dickensian London. Further comments would be, like any serious analysis of the content, extremely superfluous. I will provide a link to the article here and give you the usual snippets of delight below... the agreed convention remains: red is my highlight, round are my brackets, much is my amusement.
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Stop blaming it on Fred! by Lorna Vassallothe Luxembourg Annotated Version
"May all dear readers allow me to crouch
(is her caricature self a dwarf of some kind?) back to my "caricature" self
(what we have begun to call Thank God It's Lorna). Slippery ground, I agree, to dare trod upon
(Indeed). Many people have been condemned for using such tone
(Ah! Acknowledgement) and I do risk sharing their same destiny
(Ahem. Risk?). Well, but, of course,
(four words, three commas that must be a record) at least it has inspired some critical minds
(She means minds of critics and not minds on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Or maybe not) to waste some time on me
(Sublime innit!).""But funny is the present state of affairs, which breeds but irony and deserves a good laugh!
( Funny is the English in the Times today, which questions but the prizegivers and their sense of humour!). We are living in the post-2005 budget era. It seems we are truly experiencing the dark ages after the last budget! It is said that citizens have become so keen and so collaborative when it comes to environment issues and energy consumption. And this overnight!"
(This paragraph's style will be henceforth referred to as Fakespearean - a feebl attempt at adopting a semblance of the bard's prose. This overnight as against that day or this Tuesday!)"
"This week my business took me to some retail outlets
(We leak in your chimney. Henry IV. Part I). My errands started off at the petrol station. I discovered that my petrol tank has grown even bigger! Strange happening indeed! Some years ago it had a capacity of Lm10 - now it's nearing the Lm20!
(Of course. Without condoning the current government's taxing practices, no one expects the price of oil to change over the years) By Jove!"
"Then, to my surprise, most of the places I needed to go to had lights hardly visible at a distance to show they're still open
(She drives around the flatlands of Marsa presumably and the distant shops require lighting). When I decided to indulge in the most feminine of habits, hair-doing, I found a hair-dresser ready waiting for me
(as against being elsewhere at the time of the appointment), dusting his shelves
(this is a subtle preparation for the Dickensian image of lack of thrift and business. Picture aforesaid hairdresser with brush polishing dust accumulated since budget day due to general abandonment of customers)."
"Sometimes words become worthier when said by the wrong people
(Bad bad Nationalists) or, at least, by those not expected to say them! And when they are addressed to the wrong people (or those not expecting to hear them
(not so bad Labourites)) they perhaps become even worthier
(note how the mistake of adding "more" before "worthier is abvoided" but she cannot resist the "even" - not to mention that "worthier" replaces the Maltenglish word "worth-it")! (Paragraph of Lo(rna)gic - the chiaro scuro begins. All nationalists think blue or labourites think red and Lorna thinks in bad english)."
"Out on the streets pro-Nationalist supporters solemnly declare their total disinterest in politics reiterating ad nauseam that "both parties are the same" in a semi-national chorus
(I love the semi-national chorus bit). The idea has spread like wildfire and replaced the vacuum in big-mouth-only "minds"
(Eh?)."Back at my flat, just before the news - at peak hour - I was surprised by new energy-saving bulbs publicity!"
(this thought comes befora a pause in writing. We can only assume that between this paragraph and the next the authour consumes a coffee too many... it would explain what comes next...)"Arlecchino, on the other hand, keeps on laughing. He parades the streets in socially-accepted attire and leads an exemplary family life. Little else does he do. Does he write in papers? Hardly!
(we do not all have the same luck) Does he make decisions?
(Should he take them too?) Well - quite conveniently, hurriedly and, at times, negligently! Contrastingly, he is a very good actor and expresses concern as to the fate of the taxpayers to the extent of almost becoming credible. He is but a capitalist preacher
(The only one who could ever reach me... ) with smudged, impure Green values and doubtful red concerns. All this on a royal blue palette. His paintings are but unfaithful representations of reality and as distant as the age of Impressionism."
(Ok. I am sure this is Gonzi. But why Arlecchino? What is socially-accepted attire? And why the sudden Art lecture?)"Apart from some flowers artificially maintained alive
(Go outside Castille and count the Drips on the Begonias) and the washing of the balustrades in front of Auberge de Castile
(one L because it is a poetic license) (because Her Majesty the Queen is coming), employment has become virtual.
(Like employing the rules of English Grammar) "
The article reaches a turning point here and becomes a eulogy to Alfred Sant. The reasoning is simple. Gonzi batters Sant but he does not realise what a superhero Sant could turn into. I will leave you with the two paragraphs of literary bliss... it beats Mary Shelley's Frankenstein anytime... Here, for your eyes only is TGIL's presentation of a hardened man..: Alfred "Told You You're Wrong" Sant:If there were something the PN was good at, it was the hardening of the Leader of the Opposition. He is the man who definitely stands to win. The good shepherd is going around gathering masses as a very bad actor of Romeo. Through his half-romantic smiles
(Alfred Sant: Malta's Answer to Mona Lisa), the psychologically-murdered creature
(Prelude to the Poetic and political Catharsis) gathers his last wits to outwardly manifest his good intentions for helping the people
(We are still waiting for this Outward Manifestation). The people, in their turn, look up to him as their last card. He's got the power and the position. Some wonder whether he suffers from a very cold heart, which pities none, not even himself,
(A Marquis de Sade) or whether his actions are totally out of synch with his feelings. Does he laugh when he's desperate and cry when he's happy
(Dunno 'bout you but sounds like Arlecchino... Ridi Pagliaccio e ognun applaudirà)? Well, pleasures still to be discovered through the test of time.
However, I do admit that the Leader of the Opposition is but a genuine man turned unemotional through rubbing in the wrong direction
(I hope she does not plan to rub him the other way for too long). He will take his seat one day because circumstances so dictate but not because he's loved. Love is foreign to him and his merits will forever remain within the boundaries of his heart.
(Hmm Has she been denied access? Is this all a public coded confession of Love denied?. We will never know).****
That's it for today. Lorna has once again forced me to break the rule of short posts. More will come this afternoon once the TGIL spate has abated. I have other things to blog about but no time. Pop over to
Mark's and check out the discussion on images on our future Maltese Euro. Check out
Saved from the Skip for Raphael's wonderful concocted news. (I thank Raphael for the latest of descriptions of J'Accuse ... il-Blog bil-bajt" ... should be a "d" there but I love yet another dairy comparison all the same!"). Check out
Zemploid and
Maltagirl getting angry at CHOGM,
Sharon mulling away about media and
Fausto still trying to convince us that Arabs will always Arab be (food for thought). We await
Pierre's first post as E-Journalist of the Year.
All blogs mentioned in the above paragraph can be accessed from the pull-down blogroll in the sidebar.
I am off to my virtual employment and later will try to artificially liven up my office plants.
Vesti la giubba,e la faccia infarina.
La gente paga e rider vuole qua.
E se Arlecchint'invola Colombina,
ridi, Pagliacco, e ognun applaudirà!
