We know we have a prime minister with an irrepressible sense of his own self when he gets to choose the playlist for the national orchestra.
I am going to leave that there to hang for a pregnant, ironic, repressed, giggly, eye-rolling minute.
Ara veru ‘Ma tagħmlu xejn mal-perit Joseph’!
In case you’re one of the few who has managed to cut themselves off from the social network for the last 24 hours, the Malta Philharmonic, for so it calls itself, announced a concert of adaptations of what Joseph Muscat plays on his headphones presumably to keep himself awake when bored out of his brains by protesters demanding such annoying details as freedom of expression and unencumbered access to justice.
And what’s really sickening is that so many people are willing to pretend this emperor is wearing clothes even as he parades naked wearing nothing but huge hermetically sealed headphones and The North Face padded sleeveless waist coats.
To say this is no normal democracy has become commonplace. This has become a sickening farce of hero worship where a prime minister is so confident in the admiration and regard he is held in that he does not expect to be shouted down like that obnoxious friend you know who wants to play his favourite Christmas jingles at your August beach party.