J'accuse : Ambivalent

The latest viral trend in the fishpond that is our corner of social networking has Peppi Azzopardi announcing to the world that “his bed is his toilet” and Ira Losco sharing her deepest thoughts about mating every so often. The viral video in black and white also features John Bundy yelling “I am the king” and has been applauded (via virtual endorsements) and derided (via virtual comments and blogs) in equal measure.

Opinions being like genitalia − to each his own − the ideas and comments about the “Anti-Circus Animal Cruelty” video streamed in like SMS’ in a party fund-raising telethon. It was enough to turn a bland, kitschy and kindergarten-y message riddled with heretical pronunciation (Peppi manages to get “collar” to rhyme with “bollard”) into an overnight sensation: complete with a hundred and one critiques.

The first level of criticism came from the most common of circles in a Maltese inferno: envy disguised as disdain. In our usual convoluted thinking we had first decided that this was a video stuffed with what counts, in our corner of the universe, as a celebrity. According to some critics of the critics (bear with me), the criticism being levelled was simply an attempt to ride on the wave of attention currently being afforded to the video thanks to its instant virality. In other words, according to some, the anti-celebs who were criticising the video were just in it for a piece of the action.

Il rumore che fa il cellophan

Amusing really. Andy Warhol must have been giggling his Technicolor arse off in his grave. Talk about 15 minutes of fame being drawn out of proportion. Beyond the jealousies and counter-jealousies of what constitutes celeb status in today’s Facebook comment world there were other dimensions of criticism. The most obvious − and one to which J’accuse wholeheartedly subscribed − was directed at the attempted massacre of English pronunciation that could be witnessed in the Anglophone version of the vid.

Bar Jamie Pace, the rest of the anti-animal cruelty testimonials were enough to inspire a potential parallel video designed for a campaign to save the English language. While the script was ok-ish − if you’re ok with the personification of animals and the not so subtle sous-entendues on sex and gestation and pelosity − the delivery was as easy on the ears as a piece of chalk grating a blackboard incessantly. Again we demonstrated an incredible dexterity in turning any minor point into a full-blown Oprah session.

In the left corner we had those defending Peppi’s Minglish stating brazenly that it is just as valid a version of English as a Jamaican’s or a Scot’s. In the other corner we had those bemoaning the death of the Queen’s English − such as that gleaned in the halls of Zurich when Prince William managed to pronounce the word “football” making it sound like the most alien of sports (could that be the reason of their failure)? And there we went again − as though a jukebox had just swallowed the latest dime and the record had clicked into place, spun to the required revs per minute and the same old tune played to the assembled regulars.

Quanta strada nei miei sandali

It was not all fishponds and buscades though. Out of the stagnant cesspit of predictable disquisition shone the ray of hope in the form of a Cedric Vella remix. The remixed version of the video took a night to make (I am told by blogger “markbiwwa”) and is worth a visit. Satire and irony has its own way of biting through the morbid morosity of our navel-gazing fraternity and when it does so it provides us with such pearls as this. Look it up on Youtube. You’ll thank me later.

We swing incredibly from moments of blissful ambivalence (described crudely in the vernacular by the acronym ABZ) to Victor Meldrew-like interference worked into a fanatical frenzy. Whether we are dissecting the content of a promo video or whether we are passing judgement on the decision to host a former PM in a corner of St Vincent de Paule, we are often allowing our buttons to be pressed for whatever purposes the button pushers may have.

Take the Dwejra incident. In my little head I was troubled by Mark Anthony Falzon’s willingness to summarily dismiss the warnings about an eco-system (however unattractive) by using a semi-sophisticated version of the ABZ argument. It is easy to pick up the virus of ambivalent nonchalance − sometimes simply in an effort to insulate oneself from the nonsensical assaults perpetrated by the media of spin. The danger lies in not recognising the good story when it is there staring at you in the face (or lying under the sand in Dwejra).

A volte si sono scontrose (oppure hanno voglia di fare pipi)

Just look at Wikileaks and all the ruckus being made about Julian Assange’s toy. It was cool at the start. Then slowly it dawned on many of us that the coolness was more about the medium than about the content. A question I asked J’accuse readers this week was “What do you make of Wikileaks?” I am not concerned with assessing whether it is “good” or “evil” but rather whether people believe it could have an effect in some way. Assange seems to think that it is one way in which we could keep the USA in check. Really?

Governments have always had dispatches from their ambassadors and spies in other countries. It is useful to know what your friends are up to as much as it is to pick the brain of your enemy. Or as Shun-Tsu once said: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. We cannot be surprised or outraged when a correspondent cables that Berlusconi is lax with women or sends similar “judgements” about other politicians. We might not like it but hey, it’s world player informing itself about the other players around the table. Expecting political correctness in the cables defies reason.

Of course the leaks have had their repercussions. EU officials claim that there might be a loss of goodwill in US relations and heightened tension in the Middle East. Given that even the publication of cartoons in Denmark can heighten tension in the Middle East and that we should never really trust the Yanks blindly, I don’t think there is much that is new there either. On a local basis, unless the cables have anything interesting about Gonzi’s phone calls (or lack of them) with Ehud Olmert then we can really get back to wondering what is the best way to pronounce “collar”.

Tra i francesi che s’incazzano

Mario Monicelli jumped out of a fifth floor window to free his mind from this earthly prison. In one of his last interviews with RAI, Monicelli complains about how the Italian nation is always sadly waiting for its big saviour who will put things right. The first big saviour screwed it all up by going to war and the last one in the queue simply just cannot get his priorities right. Mario had seen the decline of this society of ours and its principles long before he took his one-way flight ticket out of this world.

At 95 Mario might have been entitled to Exit, stage right, without spending another minute on a world that was beginning to seem all too alien for him. In a way it is easy to sympathise. We seem to be ageing at an alarmingly faster rate than people used to, say, 20 years ago. By that I do not mean that I have discovered some new quantum physics flaw that explains that time is moving faster. What I do mean is that the speed of change around us (and more particularly of the things that we are used to having around us) is increasing exponentially.

I found myself wondering where I would be in 2022 when the World Cup would be hosted in air-conditioned stadiums in Qatar. The Qatar delegation has promised stadiums that can be dismantled and 3D pictures that will be screened in stadiums around the world. I am sure that by that time they will manage to come up with other marvels of technology that will turn the whole business into an all-new experience. And who knows… if we’re talking miracles… England might win the World Cup. The Three Lion delegation was mightily miffed by FIFA’s choice and I am still baffled as to why they were so surprised.

The whole process − seen through the eyes of the Brit press (barring the cheering Scots of course) had an ambivalent attitude about it. There was Blatter (here was another one with comedic pronunciation) with his football-dollars (rhymes with collars) proudly breaking new barriers in football hosting and there were the English positively pissed off by his constant references to China as the founders of football. They just don’t get it do they? What have the English given football? Really? David Beckham? He might as well be making Anti-Animal Cruelty Videos… though come to think of it I’m not quite sure he’d have the right diction.

Bartali

The lyrics of Paolo Conte’s song Bartali have accompanied us on this article. This week I revived Blogs of Malta: a site that serves as a meeting place for Maltese bloggers old and new: http://blogmalta.ning.com. I strongly recommend two animated pictures currently at the cinema (at least in Luxembourg). Both Megamind and Despicable Me guarantee giggles and fun for all the family.

It was less of a laughing matter over at Transport Malta this week. I am deeply saddened by the unfortunate and unnecessary pain caused, among others, to Major Ripard. I had more than one occasion in the past to speak to Major Ripard and discuss our traffic and transport woes (egged on by more teasing relatives). Major Ripard is a shining example of the rare breed of old school, dedicated servants of the state. Only an ambivalent country such as ours could host the ironic situation in which a graduate from a military academy ends up losing a limb in the “line of duty” − discussing the improvement of traffic safety on our roads.

I wish Major Ripard and his colleagues a swift return to their routine of normality and hope that the perpetrator/s of such an inhuman attack be swiftly brought to justice. Most of all I do hope that justice does not hold up the mirror of ambivalence but that it metes out the right punishment.

That’s all from frozen Luxembourg.

www.akkuza.com is also registered on Blogs of Malta: blogmalta.ning.com. Don’t forget to register if you have your own blog.