I love some posturing in the early hours of the morning by the deadbeat socialists who, despite their old age, can’t gather the courage to say it as it is. Smells like death. Not the one that Joseph Muscat and his friends committed by first murdering a journalist and then covering up her murder so that none of them would ever face any consequence for the long series of corruption and devastation they left behind in the state. Smells like the death you could smell at the Communist Party Office in Strait Street, Valletta as Twanny Vassallo kept posturing for the great values of the D-P-R-K to the very end of his last breath.
The Labour Party is really dead as a conventional political entity that subscribes to Maltese historical political principles. On this, any party ideologue or veteran activist would agree. Only the exception remain that still delude themselves that the Party stands for anything. As we head into what may be one of the most important European Parliament elections in the history of the European Union, with Russia knocking at our door with daily-drunken threats of nuclear war, our elections gravitate towards the excessive narcissim of one man who is holding the Labour Party, the state and the nation hostage. The true king. The one and only. Sol Invictus. The sun that shines over a car bombing in the Mediterranean landscape. Why not be best in Europe in organised crime? Azerbaijan in the Mediterranean Sea: the new high-tech blockchain-finance Sicily. We are being kept hostage to this murderous psychopath for various reasons: one of them is that the people at the Labour Party of today aren’t able to tell the truth.
Yet, the responsibility should fall on the leader, should it not? On a matter of national importance, the Prime Minister would, supposedly take a stand. Isn’t that what Prime Ministers usually do? He wasn’t even capable to take a stand on the death of a worker at a construction site with his MPs following him in absolute fear. The problem is that our Prime Minister can’t do that, because he, the new Dear Leader of the Abela dynasty, is also held hostage by Muscat, and in a very warped, sinister, Machiavellian way on the account of Robert Abela’s own incompetence and stupidity itself. It’s only with historical context that matters are put straight. Robert Abela was irrelevant to the political scene until he was anointed Labour Party leader by Joseph Muscat himself. Robert Abela in some way, didn’t even hover into rent-seeking circuit and network that Joseph Muscat had built when in government. What Robert Abela did was simply to export his rent-seeking privileges to the criminal underworld. Here’s the problem then. From Rent-Seeking Paradise to Gangster’s Paradise.
For them it’s all a game of course, and most of these idiots like Evarist Bartolo have been fearful for a long time for the wrong reasons, and now they will die ridiculous and pathetic deaths along with the Labour Party they supposedly were building all these years. What have these people given us? A Party that riles the lumpenproletariat against journalists, critics and the European Parliament President for standing up to a belligerent and imperialist state that wants to nuke us. Yet, these idiots, are fearful if they speak. Nostalgia and pseudo-literature is all that’s left and of course, the fear and loathing.
Fearful I am. Of a gun-toting invasion, the loss of democracy and rule of law, a country run by criminal gangs, or a gangster who never worked in his life who blasts the national debt in perpetuity. What else is there to fear if not the loss of our nation itself as these narcissists play their own games with the state and our democracy? It’s all a game for them. To allow a previous Prime Minister, who is also a murder suspect being the king of a historical election, is the bottom of our political history. If things are bad, don’t worry because they can definitely get much worse.
Even if so, though, let’s say there is potential for redemption somewhere in this hellish criminal landscape. Only that miracles don’t happen and Robert Abela will never go to his cheering and fearful servants on Sunday morning and explain to them that Joseph Muscat is wrong, and should be investigated and trialed in court. He will say instead, that the Magistrate is wrong, because his royal sticky vaseline-creamed-face-highness is the superior oracle of the law.
So it’s an election about them. The new gansgter in town and a previous prime minister who claims to have played a double agent between the murderer of a journalist and his duty to the state. Doesn’t sound right, but there are some like Alex Agius Saliba who think it’s a relative opinion. Murder is a relative opinion. That Daphne Caruana Galizia right now, can’t express her opinion, is a relative opinion.
So, the state, can’t move on. We’re still in 2019. Covid still has to come and the pandemic experience of reorganising our national fundamentals still has to come. It’s no coincidence that Robert Abela kept fighting his Deputy-Prime Minister and Health Minister, Chris Fearne, to keep the country open till the last breath. We’re still in the “best of times” – not the economic growth. That has always been the case and Joseph Muscat didn’t invent it. It’s the bloodiness of it all that stems from the criminal organisation that has captured the state. An election by and between two criminals. On one hand, Joseph Muscat will give a stronger result (supposedly) for the Labour Party, while on the other hand, Robert Abela can’t actually allow him to contest given that Joseph Muscat will inevitably be indicted via a Magisterial Inquiry.
However, it shouldn’t be assumed that this disruption of politics to the criminal level of Joseph Muscat contesting the MEP elections with Labour won’t happen because Robert Abela is a good guy in this story. Robert Abela is in a very tight spot in which he should never have got himself into and the only reasonable solution for him is either to support the rule of law, choose the state and the Labour Party over Joseph Muscat by condemning him and supporting the conclusions of the Magisterial Inquiry or else resign with immediate effect. Robert Abela won’t bite the bullet. He has the fickle teeth of a princely gangster. Like a fucked up royal Blackadder who sells drugs. He will move around with a criminal entourage around him but as soon as he is alone in a room with another man he is punched in the face. He will rehabilitate Joseph Muscat some other way and keep the gangster’s paradise on a very tight rope, probably by giving him a chairmanship of a government entity or some sort. Risking to destroy the whole criminal organisation would not be in his interest.
It all makes perfect sense because this is how criminal organisations actually work: like a literal ouroboros. Not the metaphorical one. On a long enough timeline, there is no loyalty in a criminal organisation because there are no values and they all end up eating each other. The rituals, the ceremonies, the religious festivities, the sports, the charity is only a surface that normalises it. A criminal organisation buys and takes over assets and controls them outside rule of law without any alternative political values: only narcissism and greed. In Malta, a nation that historically has been poor and bereft of assets has little to offer and the nation and the state itself have become easy targets. What else is there to take?
The quarries, the only material resource have historically been epicenters of the rent-seeking and criminal networks. There in Maltese stone is the history of murder, organised crime and the destruction of archeology remains as big as the temples themselves: crimes unfathomable for the insular imagination of a Party scholar. It’s not called a gangster’s paradise for no reason: you can actually do whatever you want if you have the power, even bomb a journalist in broad daylight. The story develops with the Deputy Commissioner fooling around in luxury cars with the mastermind of the murder himself – and even getting recorded doing it for the sake of posterity and blackmail – all of course, under the great and powerful guidance of the Master double agent, Prime Minister Joseph Muscat: Sol Invixctus.
In reality, there is no redemption under this criminal organisation, and the choice between two narcissistic individuals and their crimes and the nation itself, we should choose the nation. We should move on, but we can’t. We have to give up rule of law and our democracy to a criminal crybaby who pisses his pants on the thought of stepping foot in Kordin, hence his insecure ramblings in front of a crowd on whatnot. A pathetic display of foot stamping at the mere thought that the state has a bigger gun than his. Their only solution is to disarm the state, leave us vulnerable and nationless as they play their stupid game.
Four years have passed and here we are. Four years of a Police Commissioner doing jack because he wants to live in a villa: the silly dreams of the oppressed. The emancipation of the working-class into criminals and gangsters. There is redemption available for this country, for sure. But not with Robert Abela and Joseph Muscat. We would have redemption when the nation matures enough to chose rule of law, the nation, democracy and the state from Joseph Muscat, Keith Schembri, Konrad Mizzi, Brian Tonna, Yorgen Fenech. Our own Maxiprocesso where all these narcissistic and psychopathic imbeciles who took away our state, will be forced to give it all back. Our day of reckoning. Then, when Angelo Gafa defaults on his mega-villa loan due to unemployment and moves back in with his parents, we can blow up his villa to smithereens as a majestic symbol of moving forward from this bloody criminal landscape.
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Historian and Publisher
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