The Da Vinci load (of ...)

I was never interested in the Da Vinci Code. I don’t have time for those kinds of books. But I was compelled to take interest after learning that my uncle is spearheading a campaign to ban the movie. I knew him to be a bit of a fanatic, so I can’t say that I was surprised. Within the context of a liberal-democratic society he has all the rights to protest and to try and convince people to not watch it. Asking for a ban is out of the line though. One shouldn’t be able to use democratic means to subvert democracy.

This Da Vinci Code circus has all the characteristics of a moral panic. The reasoning behind this crusade is typical of any moral panic. Something is threatening our social values and we must do everything we could to stop it. Stanley Cohen discusses this in depth in his ‘Folk Devils Devils and Moral Panics’. The only panic that should arise out of this story is a panic about the threat to our little democracy; particularly when one considers that we already don’t have much of it. If the fervent Catholics think that it’s a sin to watch the movie, they just shouldn’t watch it. What you don’t do is call for its ban. What next? Criminalise adultery? Witch-hunt the atheists? Have blasphemy wardens?

What I find irritating in this whole issue is how insulting these Catholic fanatics are to their brethren’s intelligence. They seem to think that people are nincompoops. Are people so gullible that they will be magically brainwashed by a movie? In Malta? The country that wants Christ on its Euro coins? A country where you can spot scores of church domes from any modest hill? The country that teaches Catholicism in schools, forces indoctrination on kids (duttrina) and is pretty much holier than the Vatican? The country that prides itself in an abundance of bare-footed pilgrims? Is Catholic Malta’s faith so weak that a hyped up Hollywood movie is such a threat that it must be banned? Makes you wonder doesn’t it?

Culture Club

Culture is the buzz word of the Right. They want to preserve, promote and protect it. Or so they say. They’re not racists. They just love their country and their culture (like the Romeo who professes his love for his wife by hating all other women). They don’t hate the foreigners, but they're just a threat to our national identity. Or so they say.

Their analytical naivety is, in my opinion, their fundamental weakness. Yet paradoxically it is what gives them their strength. The strength of mass appeal. It’s easy to rally people around ‘our culture’ without defining what that is. If one asked all the people at the ANR demonstration last October what they understand by the term ‘Maltese culture’ they would have all given a different answer. Culture, as a concept, is a tough nut to crack. I would not burden myself with the difficult task of coming up with a comprehensive definition of such a vast concept. I’ll leave that to professional sociologists. Nobody in their right mind would dream of coming up with an original definition in a short blog entry like this anyway. But that is besides the point. Or is it? I mean, if sociologists struggle to come up with a definition of culture, how are the Right-wingers talking about it as if it’s an uncontested, universally accepted and a uniformly understood concept? What do they understand by culture? L-Ghonnella u l-bigilla? The Maltese language? Or general patterns of behaviour? Speculation gets us nowhere, so for conveniency’s sake I will take up a random definition to work with. Hiller (1933) defined culture as:

The beliefs, system of thought, practical arts, manner of living, customs, tradition, and all socially regularised ways of acting…So defined, culture includes all the activities which develop in the association between persons or which are learned from a social group, but excludes those specific forms of behaviour which are predetermined byinherited nature (Hiller, in Kroeber et al, 1952: 82).

If anything, the first thing that one must acknowledge and which the Right cannot seem to get is that culture is not static. It’s not fixed and unmovable. It’s not a shared mass of patterned behaviour. We’re not lemmings. Within the territorial borders of the Maltese islands we find a kaleidoscopic variety of ‘beliefs, system of thought, practical arts and manner of living’. ‘Customs and traditions’ are not shared either. Not only that but one cannot say that the current patterns of behaviours and lifestyles are intrinsically Maltese either. What is so Maltese about a young person’s weekend routine of partying and eating kebabs for example? How does this ‘Maltese culture’ that the Right speaks about, connect a young rocker from the North of Malta and an old bizzilla woman from a Gozitan village? For all it’s worth, these people are living in different worlds even if they share the same flag and possibly, although not necessarily, the same language. Her traditions are alien to the rocker and you can be sure that he looks at her work with tourist eyes when he’s spending a weekend in Gozo; and I would dance naked in the streets if she can carry a conversation with him about local bands Beheaded and Forsaken.

What does the Right consider as ‘Maltese culture’? What is it that they’re defending exactly? This is something that they never seem to be eager to explain. In my eyes it is obvious why. Why seek to define your concept if you can appeal to more people by being general and vague? That is their strength. They yell ‘Maltese culture’ in the microphones, they write it in the letters to the press and hold it up high as their sacred banner. That way the rocker and the Gozitan woman can equally relate to what they’re saying even if the term ‘Maltese culture’ creates in their heads opposite mental images. This unifying factor is just an imaginary relation. There is no one whole, static ‘Maltese culture’ that connects all the people born under the flag.

Maltese culture is in constant motion and it changes; it evolves. Besides, how the mere presence of other cultures forces people to change their ‘beliefs, systems of thought, manners of living’, without their own consent is a bit perplexing. Of course there will be influence, but that is reciprocal and is not done at gun-point. If culture was indeed the concern of the Right, they should promote it by being active in cultural activities rather than bash and feel threatened by other cultures. If I’m permitted to re-use the previous Romeo analogy, I would say that it is a sign of sheer insecurity if Romeo feels that the presence of other women is enough to interfere with his relationship with Juliet. Food for thought. Local food for thought if you will.

Cyber Monument

This is a cyber monument dedicated to the brave people below.

Buddy Bell, Fred Brancel, Robert St. Clair Call, Charles Carney, Stephen Clemens, Joanne Cowan, Ken Crowley, Anika Cunningham, Scott Dempsky, Joe DeRaymond, Sam Foster, Christine Gaunt, Michael Gayman, Sarah Harper, Rita Hohenshell, Jane Hosking, John LaForge, Mary Dennis Lentsch PBVM, Robin Lloyd, Linda Mashburn, Don Nelson, Liam O'Reilly, Dorothy Parker, Gail Phares, Jonathan Robert, Judith Ruland, Delmar Schwaller, Cheryl Sommers, Donte Smith, Edward "Naed" Smith, David Sylvester, Priscilla Treska, Fr. Louis Vitale, Jamie Walters, Frank Woolever, Jerome Zawada.

Who are they?

The School of the Americas

“Babylon system is the vampire

Suckin' the children day by day

Me say de, Babylon system is the vampire, falling empire

Suckin' the blood of the sufferers
Building church and university

Deceiving the people continually

Me say them graduatin' thieves and murderers”

- Babylon System (1979), Bob Marley

Never has a song lyric been so fitting. To all those unfamiliar with the work of the School of the Americas, now renamed the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Co-operation, I suggest you visit this School of Assassins by Jack Nelson Pallmeyer.

Fottie (8)

Anybody watching the Arsenal – Villareal match yesterday must have been delighted to see that squirrel running around on the pitch. These things are entertaining, and it was probably the best thing I saw all night considering that I was siding with the Spanish side. But it got me thinking. Why wasn’t the squirrel around in the Juve match a couple of weeks ago? Then it hit me. What the hell would a squirrel be doing in a Juventus match? The current Juve team has no fuckin’ nuts!

You've just been Punk'd Profs.

I often feel that the University of Malta needs some sense of humour. That is why I often dream of a group of jokers who organise themselves and pull stunts in the hope of teaching people to be less stuck up. They could wear masks of the Joker and inject some humour in an otherwise dull environment. Ideas of pranks keep coming to mind that would make University life a little bit more interesting. For example, how about a group of mocking photographers surrounding those students who deludingly think that they’re permanently on a catwalk? Or maybe a warden system that curbs pretension by issuing tickets to the guilty parties? Cream pies in the faces of ministers who come to University to talk down to students aren’t a bad idea either. Fart cushions would be funny too. Imagine the minister’s expression as he shockingly finds that the farting sound commences before he even moves his lips! Lecturers shouldn’t be exempt either. They should all be punk’d. Footage should be shown on big screens. Maybe it would burst those pomposity bubbles called egos that some/most of them have. Sod the Scream magazine. Where are the Communications students? Where is the creativity? Where is the inventiveness? In my dreams. Students couldn’t care less about University life. They only seem to care about parking, shopping and the next open bar party. Excuse me while I take 5 to act bulimic. Not all of them obviously. Heh, you gotta have a disclaimer eh? There are about 50 students (optimistically speaking) whose interests transcend the mundane consumer culture and they’re probably commendably trying to struggle the apathy tsunami, but they will all drown before University becomes a nucleus of any creative activity. Give me one more shop in the student’s house please, and a big sponsor to help me win the election so I can brand the KSU. Then I will take my top-of-the-range mobile phone which I left in my car (anzi I managed to find parking Maddddonna!) and let me tell the whole world how fabulously happy I am. Bleugh.

The students have nothing to lose but their boring educational life, they have a side-splitting laugh out loud marathon to win. Joker-men of all faculties UNITE!

Footie (7)

Pathetic. That’s all there is to it, and I don’t care what anybody else says. The ‘old lady’ should take some time out to have a long session of thinking. Huge changes are necessary. It’s not a case of sour grapes. It’s just that watching Juve play has become boring. I prefer watching Milan. They attack. They play as a team. Juventus play with 9, as Zlatan and Trez patiently wait for the ball to magically reach their feet. Mostly, they play against 12, because the Swedish ballerina seems to be constantly disoriented and unable to keep a ball. Not to mention that he feels compelled to stop the ball to give his, ahem, opponents the chance to catch up. Zlatan bashing is my new hobby. The guy is an idiot and has done fuck all this season, except getting paid to give his sorry ass performances. The employment agency should have sent him to a circus. At least he’d be good there.

Juve cannot win a Champions League if they continue to ‘invest’ in old stars with big egos who feel that it is not their job to run and try to win the ball. The team lacks players who play with passion, who play to win, who give their all for jersey. The young players do it. Chiellini, Giannichedda, Balzaretti are all admirable for that, even if they do make mistakes. Buffon, Zambrotta, Cannavaro, Mutu and Del Piero are good at it too. Even Zalayeta. He’s not the best of players but he tries his best. That’s what players ought to do. But instead we get a bunch of ‘I’m-too-good-to-try-and-win-a-ball-and-oh-when-is-my-paycheck-coming’ fairies. As for Nedved, he should go to an anger management class. Great players aren’t made up of that shit. Maybe he should look at Shevchenko for an example.

As for Capello. The don should leave, now. He’s got too big a reputation to lose and little else to gain, which means that he will not take risks. Playing a constant 4-4-2 isn’t really the works of a great tactician is it? Even football management gamers know that. Giving a permanent place in the squad to idiots like Zlatan is not too insightful either. Not to mention the Zebina fetish and the habit of playing players out-of-position. The Juventus bench is weak. In part because of the unashamed selling of players with great potential, but also because rotation is not something that Juve seem to know about. You have to give players the chance to play if you wanted them to become good ones.

This rant could go on and on, and on and on, but I will stop here. While I obviously wished that they’d win the Champions League, I couldn’t say that they deserved it. So that’s all there is to it. Better luck next time. Not that better luck could exist after that keeper blunder against Bremen…

Paint it Black

And then you go to a funeral of someone who is not close and it’s like a gigantic red light on a zebra crossing. You stop; and when the paintings on the ceiling become boring, you think. You start to remember the names of the ones before: in-Nannu Karlu, in-Nannu Ganni, in-Nanna Mary, Maria, Jason, il-Bomba, Daniel…And it starts kicking in. You slowly but steadily become introspective. You think about your own life and your loved ones. You think about how you should tell your parents you love them more often. You try to picture yourself in the shoes that are standing up front. You think how frivolous everything else is in comparison. You think how superficial the things that occupied your mind before are. You empathise with the bereaved, and get a heavy knot when their relative speaks. You feel the faces walking behind the hearse dampen your expression, painting your spirits black. You feel the gloom throw its arm around you. You wonder how the sun can perfectly compliment such a sombre mood and still be the symbol of beautiful days. Sometime during the service you experience a change in consciousness. You feel changed, for the better.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind you know that the chances are that you will eventually get over everything. You know that sometime soon, the irrelevant details in your life will regain their priority and the football match will then become more important than existential dilemmas. Just like a drug, an anti-drug if you will, it temporarily alters your state of mind. It alters your mood and gives you a cerebral introspective low, one that shakes you right through and let’s you out slowly. One that helps give you some perspective. One that humbly and quietly asks you, if not forces you, to appreciate the things that matter.

The Ghost of Subject Past

If a couple of days ago you came up to me and told me that I would one day show an interest in accounting you’d be covered in a shower of spit that is a necessary prerequisite to any decent laughing of an arse off. But strangely enough that’s what happened yesterday. In total defiance of any potential prediction I would have made up till quite recently I went home and dug up my Frank Wood’s. To further wreck havoc on any remaining hope of ever becoming a respectable psychic I found the damn thing interesting! Luckily, even before the seeds of an identity crisis could dream of being sown I knew what the difference between now and my schooling days was. This time around accounting is relevant. I became interested in it only because I am now seriously thinking of becoming a successful accountant. Not! I am interested because I have started to seriously think about tax procedures in connection with the economic activity called Peklectrick. I will be recording soon, after which comes the purchasing of shit, and the stocking of crap; the selling of this, and the drawings of that. So now that accounting became somewhat relevant and that I can relate to it directly the subject has ceased to be the mind numbing school subject which I constantly avoided. It is now a mind numbing necessary evil which I have to face. Still, I enjoyed reading through it. Of course some accounting guru will say ‘wait till you get to do the ___________ [insert tough accounting concept]’. Fair enough, maybe it is because I’m doing the very basics, but I think there is a lesson to be learnt by all educators.

People learn what they think is relevant. So, it is as simple as teaching relevant stuff and teaching it in a relevant manner. For example, Maths beyond the obvious basics isn’t really relevant, is it? Physics, isn’t taught as if it is relevant either, although it could be. Poetry is not generally of any relevance to school kids either. I never liked poetry in secondary school. In fact I hated it, and thought of it as something I had to memorise rather than appreciate. Why not teach more practical things? Teaching first aid, for example, would be more positive than teaching kids to hate dead poets. Kids have a tendency to learn (as opposed to memorise) stuff like that better. Why not have a population that can do something in an emergency while at the same time is not prejudiced against, say, poetry? Why are we ‘educating’ kids to hate things that they might otherwise enjoy? How about history? History is one of the biggest deficits when it comes to our education. In a small country with such an abundant historical legacy within such a small territory teaching history creatively is very practical. Instead we have a historical super 5 where people fire up random numbers to pass their exams, and remember 1565 because it’s a beer they bought on their latest drinking binge.

Of course this is not to say that teachers are the culprits. Some of them are. Others are doing a great job within the suffocating contexts they work in. The problem lies in the education system which is very convenient for the economic one. The weight of the syllabus and the general obsession with exams and grades, particularly from parents who have duly internalised the competition culture of the market, creates the perfect noose by which any dream of having an education system that educates dies a sorry death.