I was about to expose MaltaToday readers to my very Christmassy mood.
I was going to tell you about the joke of the year, when former diplomat Evarist Saliba, who once wrote to me castigating me for hitting out at Bertie Mizzi, informed us that the CIA had elected Alfred Sant in 1996.
I was getting all excited about Saliba when all of a sudden …
… the phone rang.
It was Doctor Josie Muscat, reminding me that he had just issued a statement about hunting in Malta.
How appropriate for Christmas, I thought.
One should not be too surprised at this diabolical agreement between the hunters led by Lino Farrugia, and the right wing party led by extremist Josie.
Before the 1998 election, Lino had done the same thing, but this time round it was the secretary general of the Nationalist party who was doing a Josie Muscat.
His name, by the way, was Lawrence Gonzi. And the agreement promised the hunters that they would lose none of their rights. It was, of course, a bad joke.
I am told that the press statement concocted back then was written by Lino Farrugia himself and Gonzi simply put his name to it.
Gonzi was never a real party man himself, he had obviously completely forgotten what the hunters had done in the previous election in 1996.
Politics is the art of compromise, and compromise most of the time means forgetting.
Well, I would not be too surprised if Muscat asked Farrugia to do the same and simply write the press statement for him to sign.
There is of course a fundamental difference between the years 1996, 1998 and 2008.
This is a European Union member country now, and the long press statement issued by the far right organisation Azzjoni Nazzjonali proves beyond any doubt that they do not understand what Malta’s commitments in Europe are all about.
Muscat is simply trying to be the lapdog of the hunters.
Needless to add, Josie Muscat cannot tell the difference between a golden plover and an ostrich: all he is interested in is sucking up votes.
If Lino Farrugia tells him that it is okay to shoot butterflies, Josie would simply accept it as Gospel truth.

Back in time
There is little doubt in my mind that while Mr Muscat wants to take us back to the years of Nanna Grezz, he has not been told that the requests made by Lino Farrugia are not acceptable in any part of the European Union.
The only way for Lino Farrugia to have his way is for Malta to leave the European Union. And if Josie wants that, he should tell us now.
No one will accept Farrugia’s request for hunting of quail and turtle dove in spring, and no one will accept their request to trap finches.
No one will accept any of these demands because they are not only outrageous, but also impossible.
Farrugia’s insistence that they can control hunters and trappers is not only laughable but the biggest joke. As Lino himself told me on so many occasions.
All over the island, without exception, the vast majority of hunters and trappers are not law-abiding citizens. They shoot and trap protected birds and if they were left up to their own devices, they would take every feathered animal and either blast it to kingdom come or put it behind bars.
Josie Muscat, like most other politicians, is only interested in power. But his politics is dreadful because it wants to take us back in time.
His opening speech at the launch of AN was full of diatribes against migrants and jibes at foreigners married to Maltese.
His party was attended by well-known fascists, Nazi lovers and other dodgy characters and yet he expects that we should embrace him as an alternative choice to the all the rest.
His latest love affair with the hunters is confirmation that Josie is no different to any of yesterday’s politicians. It should leave us in no doubt that when it comes to the future of this country we should be wise enough to take the right decisions.
And since we are on the subject of hunters, could it be that the CIA helped the hunters in 1996 to bring the PN down?
I wonder… Perhaps Evarist Saliba knows all about this.

Cacopardo and Georg
The other day, I received an SMS from someone who felt aggrieved that we had carried a story about Carmel Cacopardo’s involvement in an application in an ODZ area, where the same Cacopardo recently protested on behalf of the Greens. The irate Green – who looks more like a Nationalist to me – told me that I should write about the involvement of Georg Sapiano in business deals, namely in the purchase of the Mgarr Hotel in Gozo.
Now, I am not madly in love with Georg Sapiano and Dr Sapiano knows that. But there is a fundamental difference between what Georg Sapiano does and what Cacopardo did.
Sapiano does not shy away from making it known that he likes money or that he likes to make money. No matter how disgusted some people may feel about it, the fact is that there is nothing wrong with being a businessman and a politician. And in this particular case there is no conflict of interest.
What is incorrect is when someone portrays oneself as being someone he or she is not.
Declaring one’s interest in politics, and I guess elsewhere, is fundamental.

Oskar meets Gonzi
The other day I took our energetic Kelb tal-Fenek for a stroll.
Oskar looks forward to the smells and aromas of fellow canines. (Animals, by the way, according to Josie Muscat are not to be confused with humans. Josie was of course trying to make a point which priests used to make in the 17th century.)
But back to Oskar. As I attempted to cross the busy street, I encountered a group of serious looking men all dressed in long black coats waiting in front of a crib display. I noticed that they all looked the other way when I passed. You see, this is Christmas.
It was then that I realised that they had one thing in common they all belonged to the same clan. The group was led by Salvu Sciberras, Naxxar’s most loved Nationalist. They seem to be waiting for someone.
Years back, Salvu was the one who at one point asked someone to photograph me and Oskar in the hope that he would be caught red handed – defecating, that is.
Thankfully, Oskar was not that silly,
Oskar pulled me away from the men in black, unimpressed by their cheap perfume odour. On my way back, I crossed the road once again, and found myself in the midst of this sombre looking posse. Only to realise that this time another fellow had joined the grouping.
Jesus, it was Lawrence himself.
Oskar was delighted. We quite rightly stopped, and the PM asked me how my bodyguard was.
Oskar barked. I guess it was his way of greeting the PM.
The others who were in his stead, who a minute before looked like something out of a Charles Dickens book, were now all smiling at me.
How very nice, I said to myself.
One acolyte even jokingly suggested that I keep the dog away in case he bites the PM.
Good God, that would be a story, wouldn’t it?
There you go, now that is what I call a Christmas spirit.

Mifsud-Chircop
In this very special moment of the year, sincere greetings to all our readers. But my thoughts go to the Mifsud-Chircop family.
Words, my words cannot make up for the sorrow they are feeling.
Gorg Mifsud-Chircop will be sadly missed, but not forgotten.

sbalzan@mediatoday.com.mt