You are not a politician (You’re a door-to-door salesman)

Bum Bum il-Bieb

Bum Bum il-Bieb

Back in the days when Lowell’s speeches were funny one of the prize snippets in a Maltafly interview was Lowell’s description of Gonzi as a non-politician. “He is not a politiciaaaan” ranted the “libertarian” and went on to ridicule the attempts by Gonzi & Co. to rack up votes for the MEP election through door-to-door visits. Tricky Triccas will be back in the entourage, hoping that the triple-barrel surname will compensate for the missing votes that did not materialise the first time round.

Meanwhile the Man Who Will Revolutionise Labour has also decided to adopt the door-to-door approach. They will come a-knocking spreading the words of Labourite Salvation, much like the two little ladies spreading the word of Jehovah and his Witnesses last Saturday morning. I was asked what my denomination was and I answered that so long as there is no organisation and nothing interposed in my relationship with God (read no loonies claiming to interpret his message for me) I am cool. In fact I am very cool with the “Love thy neighbour” rule being the basic grundnorm for society (with the corollary rule of “have a good sense of humour).

The Witnesses thought that Malta was an idyllic place where people in favour of divorce, abortion or euthansia (notice the OR not the AND) will be hung drawn and quartered. I tried to have some sort of discussion with them explaining that the God of the Bible tended to make some convenient choices like switching to the Caanaanite side of the wars when the going got tough for the Israelites. You know what I mean – choosing the strongly equipped Canaanite armies to smite down his vengeance upon the nasty nasty Israelites. The inspired biblical author could not really justify the Israelite war losses otherwise could he?

Anyway. I could get lost for hours on this. Point is that the Witnesses kept reverting to quoting random snippets of the bible every time they hit a logical wall. Which will probably be the point of the Labourites knocking on door after door. What will they be distributing? Their version of the Watchtower? Will they be engaging in discussions with every other doorkeeper as to the suitability of Inhobbkom Joseph to lead the people out of Nationalist suppression?

Picture a gaggle of lejberites entering a villa with pool included. Picture the villa’s owner fat and plump owner in his swimsuit by the pool as he inspects the proselytisers of Joseph’s Faith in their ill fitting suits and glaring red clipboards. Then picture the aforementioned plump owner breaking out in song:

Joseph, I am overjoyed to meet you face to face.
You’ve been getting quite a name all around the place.
Healing cripples, raising from the dead.
And now I understand you’re the Future,
At least, that’s what you’ve said.
So, you are the Joseph, you’re the great Inhobbkom Joseph.
Prove to me that you’re divine; change my water into wine.
That’s all you need do, then I’ll know it’s all true.
Come on, King of the News.

With apologies to Andrew Lloyd Weber (see Herod’s Song vid on Bandiera Gialla – right column).

One response to “You are not a politician (You’re a door-to-door salesman)

  1. As I have had occasion to note in Rebbiegha Gdida, house visits are, simultaneously, unbelievably tacky and exquisitely democratic. A paradox? Maybe. Alternatively, we can conclude that democracy is by its very nature a tacky affair.

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