Mediawatch

I.M. Jack : The one about the WYSINWYG

La Trahison des images (Ceci n'est pas une pipe). 1929. Oil on canvas, Overall: 25 3/8 x 37 in. (64.45 x 93.98 cm). Unframed canvas: 23 11/16 x 31 7/7 inches, 1 1/2 inches deep, 39 5/8 inches diagonal. Purchased with funds provided by the Mr. and Mrs. William Preston Harrison Collection (78.7).

La Trahison des images (Ceci n’est pas une pipe). 1929. Oil on canvas,

It’s been a long time since we’ve had a quick I.M. Jack take on the major news items. The theme this week is about WYSINWYG or what seems to be the apotheosis of the governmental policy of What You See is NOT What You Get. This blog has for some time now described Muscat’s government’s actions in terms of Magritte’s “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” We are used to having this or that government representative exhort us to look for the facts beyond what our eyes can see – “what you see is not what really is” they seem to tell us. Thus the traffic clogging the sick arteries of our nation is just a question of perception, we only see lack of qualification in government appointees because we want to and the price of oil in Malta is actually cheap today if we consider that it could be cheaper in the future. Hence WYSINWYG – what you see is not what you get.

Will the real budget please stand up?

The speaker hath ruled. The real budget is not the one that was physically tabled in parliament or the one published on the government website. No the real budget is the one read by Minister Scicluna in fits and starts. The speaker’s ruling is actually an apotheosis of all that has been Taghna Lkoll until now. Do not believe the facts and figures. Only believe what we say. Anyway we have to make do with the new mantra of “genuine mistake” that seems to be as permissible with this lot as it was anathema with the previous lot.

We are genuinely mistaken

Such was the excuse when Minister Cardona once again committed a “genuine mistake” appointing a person from the bench to a government entity. The euphoria of appointments to this and that chair is such that sometimes the Ministers or their minions for whom they are directly responsible get carried away and end up signing up people who are not fit for the purpose. In this case such lack of fitness was not due to incompetence (that actually is allowed – just look at our ambassadorial appointments) but due to the fact that the person being re-nominated for a bit of the parastatal company gravy train had already been fit comfortably in the puzzle of judicial appointments – and judges and magistrates are not allowed to sit on government entities. Plus ça change.

Get him to the Greeks

Cuschieri junior is being nominated ambassador to Greece is he? And there was Tsipras thinking that he had faced his greatest challenge yet. This is the same Cuschieri whose position on the Greek debt crisis was largely influenced by very personal issues of whether or not he would be allowed to take up his seat in Strasbourg. “in the midst of the Greek bailout talks, Cuschieri called on Malta to deny the debt-afflicted state money under the EFSF lest they green-light the enlargement of the European Parliament.” (MaltaToday). Sweet isn’t it? What better man to send to Athens if not this genuine Floriana FC (and, alas, Juventus) fan?

What you did was very spiteful, but it was also very brave and very honest and I respect you for doing that. But the content of what you said has made me hate you. So there’s a layer of respect, admittedly, for your truthfulness, but it’s peppered with hate. Hateful respect. (Alduous Snow – Get Him to the Greek)

X Arab Bank

Peppi Azzopardi tried to act smart with the “patriots” of Malta. He must have reasoned that the chicken-brained reasoning that is normally spouted by intolerant bigots can be easily countered on his show. For my sins I watched the whole show on streaming. It was a disaster in many ways. It was once again a testimonial to the lack of civic education and by that I am not referring to the patriot’s lack of knowledge of the words of our national anthem. Take Peppi’s bold assertion that it is up to members of parliament to interpret the law – and that since a member of parliament has stated publicly that wearing the burqa is not illegal then so it is. Not it isn’t Peppi. Members of parliament form part of our legislative branch. They legislate. What they do not do is interpret. That is up to the courts to do. It’s part of this little game called separation of powers. You could be forgiven Peppi, with this government the whole concept of accountability and respect of the separation of powers is fast going up in smoke. We are left with a nation that is in search of its basic values and still trying hard to understand how the whole “liberal democracy” thingy works.

Labels

Labels tend to help us understand who we are and who our interlocutors are. It has become a common occurrence though to maliciously use labels for sweeping statements and assumptions. When an arab loses his mind in Paceville and goes on a stabbing rampage then it is a cue for “immigrants out” and for patriots to charge through Valletta or Birzebbugia like a bunch of oafs on a xalata. If an assembly of Croats and Serbs decide to re-enact part of the Balkan issues on St Rita Steps in Paceville the same reaction is not forthcoming. We have said it many a time: a crime is a crime is a crime – irrespective of who is committing it and irrespective of who the victim is. The confusion that results out of trying to define aggravations based on colour, race or gender (or lack thereof) of the aggressor or victim only serve to compound the melting-pot of intolerance that our country is fast changing into. We have now had news of a priest who was arrested on charges of pedophilia. Cue the hypocrite anti-frock crowd to once again come out en masse barking agains “the church”, “religion” or “priesthood”. What a load of bollocks. The crime would be a crime if the person accused were a plumber, a nurse, a footballer or whatever other profession you may think of. It is heinous, punishable and condemnable. What it is not is testimony that one particular profession is more prone towards it than others. Pointing fingers at “the church” is tantamount to accusing “arabs” after a Libyan goes on rampage in Paceville.

Traffic

It will never be solved. Not without a fascist unelected government of wise men and women. Only then could the Maltese “suffer” the imposition of a car-free island where most money is spent on an efficient common transport system. Reducing the car amount to a bare minimum can only be dreamt of so long as politicians pander to the perceived “needs” of a population that has been bred to be “hurt” (read: throw a tantrum) whenever it does not get what it wants.

Maybe that is why Taghna Lkoll fares so well among the Maltese. More often than not they are led to believe that they are getting what they always wanted – irrespectively of the fact that what they see is not actually what they had hoped for.

Of mankind we may say in general they are fickle, hypocritical, and greedy of gain. – Nicolo Macchiavelli

 

The mourning after

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According to the very first Highway Code for motorists a vehicle had to be preceded by a man running before it waving flags in order to warn anybody of the oncoming machine. Oh how times have changed. Nowadays what we in Malta call “indicators” are considered to be an optional accessory that would take all the fun out of a surprise switch the of the lane, “road rage” is an accepted state of affairs and the existence or otherwise of traffic is a question of perception. I watched an intriguing documentary on arte this weekend about how the Ancient Egyptians built their chariots. The precision technology to obtain a perfect chassis and suspension is mind-boggling considering that these people lived further away from Jesus than we do today. Still, we have our own precision engineering don’t we? So precise that the best of the best dedicate most of their time foiling energy emission tests ad maiori aurigi comoditatem (for the drivers’ better convenience).

I digress. A “tragedy unfolded” during a charity event in Malta this weekend. A vehicle termed by those in the know as a “supercar” had one of those episodes where “the driver lost control of the vehicle” and it suddenly and unexpectedly “careened” into the unsuspecting crowd of onlookers grievously injuring upward of a score of them in the process. What follows is not written out of any disrespect to the injured – for there would be no point in disrespecting anyone who got injured really would there – it is a reflection if you will on what went on and what has been going on in the island of saints and fireworks.

They say that two wrongs do not make a right. There are so many wrongs here that the question of whether there could be a right in it all is actually not even one that we begin to contemplate. Charity. It all begins there. They tell me that this event has been going on for 10 years. Which is neither here nor there. From the ice bucket challenge to Presidential Yacht scurries across the fliegu we must have realised by now that our tendency to disguise a good day out in an excuse for charity is of world beating standards. Giving for the sake of giving without having to go through the shenanigans and posturing is not really a thing in an island where auctions are held publicly for the humble experience of carrying a titular statue on the shoulder. That the current lot in  government/ heading the state panders to this jamboree of  not so charitable showmanship only serves to fan the flames.

Which brings me back to the need for speed. I try my best not to be condescending but this paqpaqli business is all about people obsessed with speed and machines that deliver it. Like any other form of energy and power this is one that requires “control“.  Speed is harnessed into engines that express power in terms of horses – quite a large number of them in fact – and it seems that the thrill is all there… those few seconds when the human body is hurtled through the air in a metal (or modern material) box preferably while said box is making the sound of a giant farting his beans. Thrilling indeed. So thrilling that in order to make this event a “charitable ” one the organisers sell one-minute rides in a million euro machine to the gaping few who are there for a moment of happiness. They could have tried the russian mountains and rollercoasters in a fun fair but there would be no Porsche symbol emblazoned on the metal container of choice and in this society of appearances every little label counts… vorsprung dursh technik and all that.

The sad sad thing is that in a tiny country like Malta where estate is worth its price in gold (or corrupt politicians) there is nary a space to have a bona fide racetrack. We make do with a bit of an apron at Hal Far with empty plastic bollards standing in for safety barriers. Under the patronage of the Charitable President of the Republic the slaves of speed will wander around overpriced gas-guzzling machines taking selfies while in the background another of the machines tos and fros with its ecstatic passengers for the price of a luncheon for the poor. That this kind of entertainment clashes with the supposed charitable aims is just part of the problem. It also has no place on a tiny island. So sorry for the speed fanatics but if they really want to enjoy the thrill of a ride all they have to do is save up for a trip to Spa Francorchamps, Nurburgring or Monza and engage in a simple economic transaction – pay for a ride.

The logic of “we like it we want it” is ridiculous. It is as ridiculous as wanting to use up acres for a golf course, an indoor ski slope or any such fantasmagorical idea that is founded on the fantasy that Malta is the size of Texas.  That’s not all. It took Malta’s full complement of ambulances a double trip to despatch all the injured to hospital or clinics and this with the added assistance of a chopper. All the goodwill in the world cannot underestimate the inability of the small island to deal with such circumstances in the most ideal of situations. Our authorities enable this kind of thinking though. The political fear of failure is such that Chris Fearne was addressing the journalists on the minutae of operations at Mater Dei – in other words the system was National Alert Mode for a motor vehicle accident. “Thankfully” the context of the event lent itself to a flood of commiserations and clichés that happen when Malta goes in its very own Daily Mail patriotic mode.

Prayers for the injured, a tearful President, a burst in blood donations… that’s all well and good. It’s almost part of the show that must go on and I don’t intend to apologise for this cynical approach. We have seen it all before when a Fireworks Factory explodes to smithereens – the outbursts of compassion, the prayers, the politicians on site. the one thing we do not do from this kind of episode is learn. We have an obstinate approach when faced with the pedagogy of life events. We ignore.

So expect the Labour politicians to up their pandering to the idea of a “motor racetrack” as though it is a solution to the crazy need for speed. Expect a new event with faster cars and greater attendance to raise funds for those who were injured raising funds. Expect more of the same… and expect much, much more mourning when it inevitably goes wrong again. The mourning after.

Fear and Loathing in tal-Qroqq

fearqroqq_akkuzaIn his speech as outgoing rector of the University, Professor Juanito Camilleri addressed the issue of migration, instructing students to make good use of the knowledge and skills they acquire at University. It could not and should not have been otherwise. The University should be churning out informed citizens who are better equipped to face the realities of this world. What struck me though was the distinct difference in emphasis that the editors of two English dailies made – at least in the online headlines – when reporting this speech (the third, MaltaToday, seems to have limited itself to reporting the number of students that have been added to the Uni count).

The Times of Malta ran with “Fight hatred and intolerance through knowledge, rector tells university students” – a direct reference to one of the problems that afflict the country. Only last week we were chronicling this on this blog and mentioning the importance of fighting misinformation with knowledge. Ignorance begets darkness and informed campaigns beget light. The Times editor/reporter made the right choice here, emphasizing the crux of what Professor Camilleri was on about in his last address to the students on opening day. The message was picked up and carried by the paper – not that it had to  of course, but it is arguably part of the mission of the press on this island where bigotry too often raises its voice to the detriment of sane discussion.

The Malta Independent on the other hand opted for a more sensational approach. In doing so it went rather in the opposite direction of what Professor Camilleri was advocating. The headline on the Independent read: University rector says migration in the Med so far ‘not even an appetizer of things to come’ . Did Prof Camilleri say that? Well of course he did. He spoke of the geopolitical realities of the African continent and that demographic and political pressures could eventually lead to more population movements and increases in population density in the Mediterreanan region. Why he said that seems to have been completely overlooked by the Indy reporter – in deference to the need to shock and pander to the gods of sensationalism and feed the gullible. Instead of focussing on the tools that Prof Camilleri was offering and highlighting, instead of stressing the need to be informed and fight hatred and intolerance through knowledge, the Indy headline (food for the lazy browsers) feeds the ugly part of the “threat of an invasion that is to come” by picking the armageddon-like statement out of context.

Is it fair journalism? Debatable. Is it right for J’accuse to make such a fuss out of this. Well, to be honest yes. This is just the kind of lazy labelling that feeds into the mouths of the “patrijotti maltin”. It is the kind of reporting that is based on terror-mongering rather than a quest for reasoned solution and discussion of the situation. It ends up with the leader of a nation taking up his time at the UN (between photo shoots with celebs along with the caravan of freeriders) closing ranks with rightist leaders like Viktor Orban calling for global quotas on migrants – taking his coffee smelling business into the halls of the world. In short, it all ends in a humanistic disaster.

“If he were allowed contact with foreigners he would discover that they are creatures similar to himself and that most of what he has been told about them is lies. The sealed world in which he lives would be broken, and the fear, hatred, and self-righteousness on which his morale depends might evaporate. It is therefore realized on all sides that however often Persia, or Egypt, or Java, or Ceylon may change hands, the main frontiers must never be crossed by anything except bombs.”- George Orwell, 1984

The European Troll Collective

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It is a great mistake to suppose that the only writers who matter are those whom the educated in their saner moments can take seriously. There exists a subterranean world where pathological fantasies disguised as ideas are churned out by crooks and half-educated fanatics for the benefit of the ignorant and superstitious. There are times when this underworld emerges from the depths and suddenly fascinates, captures and dominates multitudes of usually sane and responsible people. – Warrant for Genocide, Norman Cohn.

The world can be one big lie. This has been a pet subject for many a philosopher. Maybe the world we see is just an illusion, maybe we are just parts of a dream, maybe we are an imperfect parallel universe. It all seems to hinge around the concept of perception – how we receive data and what we do it. What we see, what we sense and how we perceive it is crucial to defining the world we live in. The internet has had an immense impact not only in the immediate processing of information but also in redefining our understanding the realities (or fakeries) of the world that we inhabit.

In the nineties the term “global village” was very much the vogue. The information superhighway would cut distances drastically and you would know whenever a bomb exploded in Kandahar, whenever a weird tsumani struck the shores of Indonesia, whatever the latest military putsch was doing and you would know it instantly. Technology would be at the service of humanity giving us information at our fingertips. This urge for immediacy had existed for over a century by the 1990s. Just look at what Senator Depew had to say about the inauguration of the New York Pneumatic Postal Service in 1897:

This is the age of speed. Everything that makes for speed contributes to happiness and is a distinct gain to civilization. We are ahead of the old countries in almost every respect, but we have been behind in methods of communication within our cities. In New York this condition of communication has hitherto been barbarous. If the Greater New York is to be a success, quick communication is absolutely necessary. (see Wikipedia)

What humanity did not predict was that with the information superhighway came the empowerment of the masses. Nothing wrong with that per se but when the masses have no standard reference as to the type of information that should be disseminated we end up with a perversion of the truth. Multiple perversions actually. Information, we learnt, can be manipulated. It is not only the usual suspects popular among conspiracy theorists who are hard at work.

During the cold war the issue of propaganda was easily pinnable on the parties, the movements and the governments. In the post 9/11 world, navigating the information superhighway is not such an easy black and white matter. The sources of information are multiple and few are those who bother to verify the reliability. A whisper in a corner of the global village can gather enough momentum to be a tsunami of shrieks and yells within hours.

Which is where the trolls come in. J’accuse has often repeated the great Pratchett’s quote that “a lie can travel around the world before the truth has had time to put its boots on”. Internet trolls have found the medium perfect to spin their lies – just look at the frantic anti-immigrant spamming of the past few months. Trumped up figures, photoshopped images and reasoning that wouldn’t hold good in a kindergarten of moot courts.

The responsibility in this day and age lies among the citizens who deign themselves to be informed. The trolls can only be defeated by counter-trolling and by the positive action of more informed participants.

This blog has been committed to this kind of action for as long as it has existed and aims to continue to do so as long as it can. The truth, if we lie.

 

Those Colourful Racist Imbeciles

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It’s just idiots. Venting their anger (or vehemently opposing this or that idea) on facebook. At least they should be dismissed as such. The problem though is that they often represent a more generally held sentiment – held even among those who do not regularly frequent Zuckerberg’s fake mirror of society. A picture has been doing the rounds that features a black young lady delivering some sort of speech in Malta’s spanking new parliament. Behind the lady is MP Claudette Pace, to her right is a hijab-wearing other young lady. The picture (as you can see) is supposed to stir some form of anger : “Look at our parliament” it is captioned. We are supposed to react with disdain: “How did THEY make it in there?”.

I recognised the young black lady in the picture because by some stroke of luck and coincidence she formed part of a delegation of Mini-European Assembly winners who visited the European Court of Justice in Luxembourg (presumably as a prize for their sterling performance). I was lucky enough, privileged I would say, to be able to address the group and explain the workings of the Court. It is part of my job to regularly meet students from universities, professors or members of the judicature of EU countries who are on an educational visit to the Court. We normally take a break from our day to day task of drafting cases to share our knowledge of the workings of the court with such visitors.

This September (only two weeks ago actually) I remember walking into the room full of Mini-European Assembly visitors with a feeling of apprehension. They were a young group – younger than our usual visitors (most of them are finishing college before University) – and my recent idea of the produce of Maltese schools and university were not the most positive. My first look around the room I remember being surprised at the variety of students sat before me. Sure, I am of a generation where the “foreigner” in class was a token presence so the trigger “surprise” instinct can be forgiven if just for that. It did not take long for me to rubbish that little element of “surprise” to a corner of my brain.

Having finished the usual delivery we had a Q&A session. With university students (Sorbonne, Harvard and the like) we normally have to plead to get a question out of them and when we do we are often disappointed at the type of question being asked. This was not to be. The young first year lawyers and sixth-formers had loads of questions to ask – all pertinent, all intelligent and all interesting. That included the splendid lady in the centre of the picture now being circulated by oafs who wouldn’t know better.

They are Maltese students. Very intelligent, ambitious and interesting Maltese students. Each of them carries a dream. It’s a dream that they would like to see through living in a Maltese society. I’d very much like to think that one in every two Maltese students is like this group of fantastic ambassadors. Sadly I know that the Ernest Ferrante’s of this world vastly outnumber them.

It’s a tough task ahead for all of us and all of them. I can only wish the beautiful ladies who were exemplary on the visit and who feature in this sad racist meme all the best in their lives ahead. With courage and conviction much can be achieved.

Photosensitive

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Aylan Kurdi’s lifeless body washed up on a Turkish beach.The photo was snapped moments before the body was picked up by a Turkish rescue operator. Within hours it became the internationally recognised symbol of the unfolding Syrian tragedy. Not the thousands of persons bandied across borders, not the hundreds of thousands of unwanted finding doors slammed in their faces, not a whole people that has become a European hot potato much to its own chagrin. No.

Just a little boy in a red t-shirt, shorts and shoes. Face down. Arms along his sides. At first glance it is not so much an image of death as one of exhaustion. Before you are struck by the dark reality of the death of an innocent you are first made to think of an exhausted loss of the will to go on. Then it hits you. This is a dead little boy. And this image has struck home in millions of households. It has been described as the ultimate eye-opener, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Did we really need the image of one dead kid set in a romantic position in order to unlock the last shreds of humanity? If so why?

Memory

Last night Rai3 showed the second of a two piece instalment called “Generation War“. The series, originally called “Our Mothers and Our Fathers” in German follows the fate of a group of five young Germans throughout World War II. The German channel ZDF had commissioned the series in order to act as a dialogue between generations. The series attracted huge criticism in Germany since it seemed to portray the Nazis as “others” to the German population but also served as an eye-opener to the great deception that Nazism had been to the young pre-war generation.

Dealing with history is hard enough. Remembrance and knowledge that results from not forgetting are crucial tools in understanding the freedoms and liberties that have been achieved in the last century. Reading abut Generation War I learnt that the first real big eye-opener in Germany with regards to the horror of the holocaust “only” appeared on TV in the form of a mini-series in 1978 (featuring among others a young Meryl Streep).

The media has an important role in shaping ideas about great events. There was no media as we know it at the time of the holocaust or anti-semite pogroms. Most news was state controlled and played to the tune of the dictatorship. More recently we can see the mediatic effect of reporting of mass exodus such as that of the East Germans in  1989. In fact it should not be too hard to remember that not too long ago the pathways of Austria and Hungary were flooded with another people eager to reach the Holy Grail of German free territory. At the time a collapsing East Germany witnessed a haemhorrage of citizens eager to escape the claustrophobic atmosphere behind the iron curtain.

27 years later East Germans are replaced by Syrians. The plight of the people running away from a war torn country had been gathering momentum for over three years now. It took a symbolic snapshot to bring home the reality. Those who had hitherto been numbed by the excessive amount of daily information covering tragedy after tragedy, war after war, displacement after displacement, were suddenly shocked into action.

Aylan was buried back in his tragic hometown of Kobane. The hopes that humanity can once again stir itself out of its egoistic stupor were not buried with him though. Right or wrong, the stolen snapshot of a dead boy’s curls playing with the waves on a turkish beach might have kicked off the tide of compassion and care that had long been lacking.