Civilisations, peoples and nations are defined by their aesthetic more than anything else. More than the language, even.

Where does that put Malta?

Hitler, when asked if he was German or Austrian, famously replied “I am a Hellene”.

What am I? What are we? Is there a we?

Here’s one for Simon Busuttil: What are you?

I won’t dignify Joseph Muscat by asking him the question. He’d just give some glib answer like “Euro-Mediterranean”.

Plus a few iced buns left over from the Nationalist’s baking tray, let us not forget that.

Mussolini’s gay bashing squads were made of the ‘gagliardi’. The murder of dissenters or political opponents a gagliardata.

I suppose the alternative brand name could have been arditi.

Who’s their art director, Franco Debono?

It’s time to stop recounting what Mintoff did, but analyse why he did it.

Fuq il-fil is the idea that interface cannot exist, bare raw blockwork enough. Mercieca will tell us that that’s the way it should be, a bit like 18th century archeologists who idealised Greek art and architecture praising its monomateric reliance on form. When traces of colour emerged late last century, things went awry for ‘purists’.

When the block itself is changed to convenient practical and akward proportions, brutal utilitarianism becomes the alibi for the grotesque. Can we please admit we are the place where the dimmest kitsch has been nationalised?

The truth in this case is that Mintoff’s cultural regression produced an onslaught of cement destroying ‘local’ stone. (Another misnomer as if stratification ends here). And when the ‘first’ standards of planning came along all they did was to adopt the Gemahariya, the zenith being the Pjazzetta building, hanging terraces with its low arches and all.

The first to go, unmissed, unlamented and ignored was Qui Si Sana’s Stile Floreale, which merged concrete, stone, metal, wood and mosaic. In Malta, it’s still terribly posh and arty pretentious to ridicule mosaic or aluminium fixtures.

I will be the Phoenician, Roman, Byzantine, Goth, Arab, Norman, Yeoman, Neapolitan, Malti tal-Egittu, British,
anything to distinguish myself from Mercieca’s attempt to vilify something which should in essence, (I say predictably) be greater than the sum of its parts.

This is a place where planning regulations do not acknowledge the meaning of ochre, where pavements are in the way of garage ramps, where materials, colour and geometry cannot be used to harmonise, but cacophonic contrast (jirkacca, jaqta’). Even urban centres have to be rendered pigsty ‘farmhouse’ folksy, Ta’ Gerit u Ta’ Cetta everywhere. Valletta was going elsewhere thankfully, but under Jason’s clutches, the delusion may return.

This is nothing but Juche, Kim Il Sung’s theology, self reliance through a forced ‘philosophy’ consisting of false mathematics based on the rape of a language and its intentional contradiction. If it has to be written in latin script, it cannot ape arabic phonetics. And which ‘Arabic’ anyway?

And what’s wrong with the Phoenicians? They built fabulous hotels, wore interesting hats and imagined novel, if symbolic, GPS systems on their boats. I understand, make that arrogate, they never left.

‘begging’ – I think prostituting himself and Malta, as usual, fits much more.

There are also many ‘hidden’ iced buns.

For example, the following ‘relationship’ is not a coincidence:

http://www.independent.com.mt/articles/2014-04-29/news/inter-captain-javier-zanetti-appointed-brand-ambassador-for-the-maltese-islands-4791697408/

http://www.independent.com.mt/articles/2013-10-21/fashion/javier-zanetti-suited-and-booted-by-gagliardi-2954035200/

Ma niflahx izjed, Jozef.