I barely finish writing about how Joseph Muscat’s staff persistently shame the country in the eyes of the world and in steps Glenn Bedingfield with his foot – nay, both his feet – firmly in it.
He gets questions from The Guardian and though he does better than his boss – who has been dodging the press like a debtor avoids eviction notices – Glenn Bedingfield embarrasses himself and the rest of the country with answers that show him up to be the infant that he is.
‘Daphne was bad to me’. Yes, and? Is that why you seem to be hung-over from the 6 month orgy of celebration since she died?
It is incredible to me now, that Glenn Bedingfield and the other little tyrants that goose-step around Joseph Muscat do not see what the rest of the world sees; that when they blame Daphne for invading Poland they show themselves to be a bunch of completely self-absorbed mutually grooming chimps.
The first difference between Daphne Caruana Galizia and the rest of them is that she’s dead. None of them have been bombed and killed.
The second difference is whatever “agenda” she had (shivers, that word again) it was her own. She did not seek election, she did not seek power, she did not seek authority, and she did not seek reward.
She sought the truth.
In stark contrast, the Muscatinistas’ job is to ensure that their sinecures are preserved and that he can persist in power and ignore laws and basic decency with impunity. To that end they will lie. Daphne’s “agenda” was journalism. Their agenda is power: their own.
The third difference is that she was alone and died alone. Muscat’s army of troglodytic stooges focused on their target and fired on her from every which way. They own or control multiple TV stations, newspapers, radio stations and manipulate websites galore. They command a crowd of blood-thirsty trolls and a rent-a-screaming-crowd.
How they can compare the violence with which they used and continue to use as their weapons of oppression with little old Jane Disgusted taking a phone-photo of some Labour Minister in a restaurant tete-a-tete with a contractor who two months later mysteriously signs a concrete contract?
The latter is citizen-democracy in action. The former is Leni Riefenstahl without the elegant flags.
The fourth difference is that Muscat’s people chased Daphne down streets, poisoned her dogs, burnt her front door down, sent policemen to arrest her, sued her 54 times at least, froze her bank accounts, and fucking killed her.
She did none of this to them.
For 30 years Labour swapped her name with a cartoonish bogeywoman, a witch which they parodied right up to Glenn Bedingfield’s own excuse for a TV show with the repeated and implicit suggestion that witches must burn.
Until she did.
She did none of this to them.
Glenn Bedingfield is an official of the state, paid twice over, against the law, and he uses his time on your money to mobilise hate to the extent that his followers celebrated Daphne’s death hours after it happened, blamed her sons, blamed her, blamed everyone except the killers themselves.
And Glenn Bedingfield has the gall to call her ‘hate-monger’ where the misogynist, cartoonish grotesque venom drips from his gullet and is smeared on his ruddy cheeks.
In his answers to The Guardian today he represented the officials of the country we call home: a bunch of petty, small-minded, women-hating tyrants – let me flatter them: pigs who rejoice in the gagging of mouths they perceive as a threat to their trough.
With his answers to The Guardian he continued to drag the name of this country we love through the mud. We used to be proud of the survival of democracy in this country for which we secured independence from our colonial masters in spite of Labour’s best efforts across generations to destroy it.
We used to be proud of our country standing tall in Europe in spite of their best efforts to tear us away from our home.
We used to be proud of the way the world looked at Malta: and then came Glenn Bedingfield.
Since Daphne Caruana Galizia was killed, the world sees her as the best thing about Malta: a witty, courageous, principled woman who feared no culture, no money, no threats and no prejudice. She makes us proud by the very manner in which the world mourns her.
And then the world sees Bedingfield, with the elegance of a walrus, the wit of a stupid stone and the principles of a second rate conman who sold his mother and stole her back in the dead of night to sell her again to someone else.
People suffer at the hands of your abuse. Daphne died doing so.
But the greatest pain for her and for us is that when the world stage called for Malta’s best to be represented, Glenn Bedingfield, Josef Caruana, Kurt Farrugia, Keith Schembri, Konrad Mizzi, Brian Tonna, Phyllis Muscat, Ali Sadr, Christian Kaelin, Adrian Hillman, Lawrence Cutajar, Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando, Robert Musumeci, Owen Bonnici, Anġlu Farrugia, Evarist Bartolo and Joseph Muscat stepped out from under their stone and onto the stage, grinning stupidly in the blinding limelight.
Daphne Caruana Galizia handled you all alone and six months after she died you still go to The Guardian to cry like the little wimps you are.
