Message to all wusses: if you can’t stand the heat, you’re in the wrong job

I write a couple of blog-posts about these Delia supporters, and they begin flapping around and shrieking about vicious attacks and assaults. Then, in typically Maltese style, they gather their friends, neighbours, colleagues and acquaintances around them for a tight web of emotional support and a public display of solidarity. Then they call for even more support.

What a bunch of pathetic wusses. These are men? These are politicians, journalists, propagandists? Or are they a bunch of five-year-old girls who’ve seen a mouse?

If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the job. You can’t work for a political party, whether in its propaganda department or out of it, if you’re dripping wet.

Imagine if you had to cope with even a tiny fraction of all I have to cope with on a daily basis. What would you do – take a pair of wire-cutters to the protective fence on Mosta bridge and leap off it?

Of course the Nationalist Party loses elections. It’s become totally devoid of people with a natural instinct to go for the jugular. Instead of fighting spirit, they’ve got pizza shared late at night on marathon work sessions, party-promotion businesses going with that Luke Dalli, and lots of nice little Facebook flirtations with a bunch of Laburisti they’re supposed to be battling against.

In a two-party system, politics is like warfare. Look at Britain. Look at the United States. In Malta, the Labour Party understands that only too well. But the Nationalist Party and all those people festering in it who are now supporting that lying louse Delia have been conditioned by Labour into thinking that it’s all about hugs and smiles and drinks and Facebook chats with Labour moles who milk them for all the information they’re worth, if they’re not outright collaborating with them.

Here’s my advice: if you want to be friends with everyone, and have mates in the Labour Party, get out of the Nationalist Party and find some other way of life. If you had the slightest bit of real political instinct, which you don’t, you would know that people in the Labour Party can’t be your mates, and nor should they be, because you’re right up against them and their aim is to trash you into oblivion – something you’re doing a pretty good job of yourselves with your peculiar support of a fraud like Delia and your personal power-games.