Meet your EP candidate: The Story of a Wig, by H. P. Baxxter (Form 2C)
18th May, 2014
English homework
Hans Peter Baxxter (Form 2C)
Composition:
Imagine you are a wig and write a composition on your story. 100-200 words.
THE STORY OF A WIG
I was born in a factory far beyond the seas, in China. I was proud of my dark hair, mostly synthetic, and I lived in a shiny transparent box for the first few months of my life.
Then they put me in a bigger box together with my friends, and we were sent on a container ship. The box was opaque so I was in total darkness, but I remember the rolling of the ship and the smell of oil and salt water. I was very afraid that we would sink.
Finally, we arrived at a place with a calm sea. When they took me out of the large box I could see the shining sun and the blue skies. They told me we were on an island called Malta, and they took me to a shop.
The shop was in a busy high street, and every day from my perch high up on a shelf I would see many customers walking in. One day, a young man with an intense look came in and asked for a wig. At first, the shop assistant took my neighbour out of his box. I was afraid that I would be left behind.
However, the young man asked for a darker shade and pointed at me! I was very excited as the shop assistant took me out of the box. The young man tried me on and liked me. Finally, I could go out and see the world!
We walked out of the shop together, and I could see everything from high up on the man’s head. Later that day, we went into a bookshop where the man bought many books. Then we drove to a big place near a quay, where I sat through a very long meeting. The people in the room were talking about very serious things and I could not understand everything.
Many months went by, and I was very happy. My owner took care of me, and I got to see many interesting sights and I went to many interesting places.
I noticed that the meetings were becoming larger. Sometimes they were out in the open, and I was up on stage. I was nervous at first, because there was always a large screaming crowd, but I soon got used to it. Moreover, I enjoyed the clapping and cheering of the crowd. They liked me, and I did my best to look good for them.
One day my owner took me to a large hall where many people were counting bits of paper and putting them in boxes. We stayed up all night. The next morning we went out celebrating.
After that, we moved into a big palace, with many rooms. We spent a lot of time with a few regular people, like a small man with black bushy eyebrows who could have done with my friends’ services.
More than a year went by and then suddenly we moved out of the palace. The next few years were a series of meetings and crowds. Sometimes, we went into a hall with benches on either side instead, and a lot of men would make a lot of boring speeches, with another man sitting at the end of the hall looking on. Everyone seemed very bored, and I did not really enjoy it.
Then one day we went to the big stage as usual, but instead of going up to greet the cheering crowds, we sat backstage. We watched a short fat ginger man talking to the crowd. I felt sorry for my owner because he looked sad.
He spent a lot of time reading, and I learned a lot of new and exciting things because I could see everything he read. My owner was often alone and I missed the excitement.
Soon after, we began meeting some important people again. Among them was the short ginger man, who spent a lot of time talking to my owner. I could hear everything but I think it was a secret so I will not tell what I heard, in this composition.
My owner said we would be going to a big place over the seas, and I thought it was China. One day we left the house with a lot of suitcases. I thought we would take a ship, but instead we boarded an aeroplane.
When we arrived at our destination, we settled into a new home and the following day we went into a big glass building with a big hall. Many people were in that hall, and they all spoke different languages.
I enjoyed it, because now I could learn other languages too, and the weather here was cooler so my feet were not wet.
One day we met a short woman who was not wearing a wig but had two tresses like a schoolgirl. She told my owner he should change me because I was too dark. I was about to cry because I felt very sad, but my owner said he was happy with me.
Now we are still together and I am very happy, and I am sure we will have many new adventures together. Some of my hairs have fallen off but I still look as good as new. As they say where I come from, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
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The wig left out a few particulars. It did not express its feelings about its owner’s drinking habits or the time its owner made a big crowd laugh by speaking in a funny voice.
The wig must have had its magic moments as well. It witnessed the writing of a huge novel, “Bla bidu..bla tmiem”, unless it was hung on the bedpost for the duration.
Yes, I perfectly agree.
It also makes no mention of its shameful origins; that it was part of a theatrical duo but for some obscure reason, had to part company with the toothbrush moustache. It retained however, the slick sheen and the side-parting.
That is one shabby-looking wig on Alfred.
Compare that to that luxurious furry beige beauty on Tarcisio Mifsud’s head, who owns the best wig on the island.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6rtpRoRf7o
Surpassed the upper limit by 692 words.
You failed, Baxxter – you need to be more concise.
Nispera li ghal din l-essay gab 10/10. B’hekk ikun jista’ jaghmel il-priedka tal-Milied.
It’s all part of Muscat’s sinister plan. By pushing Alfred Sand forward, Muscat is relying on a massive vote in favour of the PL.
In that way, he will than confirm that the ‘people’ chose him and not Dr. Busuttil.
Muscat is not interested whether Sant will make Malta proud at the EP; he is not even interested if he is up to the job or not. His only interest is popularity. He made the statement about the people’s choice a week before the EP election.
It is all about him, not about his party and not even about Alfred Sant. This EP election will continue to inflate his already over-inflated-ready-to burst.
I wonder what would happen when the people would have had enough of Muscat and election results do burst the over inflated ego. Will he exit gracefully? Or will Muscat do worse than what Mintoff did?
Not bad for Form 2C.
A document to keep and reproduce with any comment directly addressed to it or as a distraction?
He’s still trying to get the wig ‘sanctioned’ by Mepa, whilst trying to fight its removal as an ‘illegal dwelling’.
I am afraid this is in poor taste. Even though HP Baxxter usually has some very pertinent comments, this is not the right style. It demeans him and lowers the tone of your otherwise excellent blog.
The wig itself is in poor taste.
You want me to write in dispassionate and dry manner like Martin Scicluna? Then hire me.
Until then, I will keep writing in whichever style I deem suitable.
I wager you are not familiar with publications such as Private Eye. You would probably disapprove of some of its most famous features, such as “Me And My Spoon”, or Margaret Thatcher’s fake diary written by Denis Thatcher, or the one about the contents of the Queen Mother’s will.
What exactly is in poor taste here? The wig or the target? The fact that a wig seeks to correct the biological fact of male baldness, when the world is full of bald men who have no such problem with it?
Perhaps you would rather have me write the Story Of A Pair of Spectacles (Konrad Mizzi). Or the Story Of A Dental Appliance (Louis Galea at one point). Or should I write about other accessories? The Story of a Handbag (Michelle Muscat).
I’ll wager too that some of you will add a demure “Alla jahfirlu” after mentioning Mintoff or de Marco. It’s these little things that block the democratic process.
You may think I’m demeaning myself by mocking Alfred Sant, but I’m doing you all a favour. In twenty plus years of a political career, this man has never been confronted. He is held in awe because he can read, and he even writes!
Is this this way we wish to build a 21st century democracy? By fawning condescension and sterile commentary?
I won’t have it. It takes mockery to build freedom of thought, from which springs democracy. Look at China. Look at Saudi Arabia.
Look at Malta.
The free West was built on mockery and biting commentary.
Besides which, I’m not even sure I mocked anyone. I hate to deconstruct literature – an author never should, and that’s the critics’ job. But the story told by the wig is true in every detail.
You couldn’t even take me to court for libel there. Is it the talking, reasoning wig that bothers you? Then perhaps you had better turn to tomes like “Habib u Mexxej”. For that’s all we Maltese are capable of.
In any case, I predicted a win for the owner. So it’ll hardly damage him.
My definition of bad taste is the way Dr Sant is behaving here:
http://daphnecaruanagalizia.com/2014/05/look-at-this-lovely-member-of-the-european-parliament-in-the-making/
There is nothing in poor taste in criticising and mocking the bigwigs, even for their wigs. It’s their choice to wear them.
Baxxter isn’t insulting Sant for having to use wigs, he’s simply using the wig as a narrator because it is one of the few inanimate objects that seem to have been present throughout his career. It’s Sant’s political career here that he’s tackling here, not his wig.
You’re the only one who got it. I must start publishing Baxxter’s Notes To Baxxter alongside my literature.
(Just like those smug prats of the Akkademja, AND they get to set the A Level syllabus too….)
I agree with Fair Play that this is in poor taste.
Baxxter,you killed me he he he
Bravo Baxxter! More ‘stories of’ please.
Just read the story to my 8-year-old this evening – she enjoyed it. H P Baxxter, we want more ‘The Story of a ……’ please.
You had me at “Finally, I could go out and see the world!”
So by buying a cheap and ill fitting wig, Alfred had more money left over to splurge on booze.