Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1462882
maltatoday | SUNDAY • 27 MARCH 2022 OPINION 10 Raphael Vassallo OPINION How about making today a 'Day of Silence' instead? OK, you all know the score. I'm writing this on the last day before the vote is taken – the so-called 'Day of Silence and Reflection' (because we are all supposed to 'silently reflect' on just how pointlessly obsolete this law has become, in an age of social me- dia) – and you're probably read- ing it on the day immediately afterwards: i.e., when the result is actually announced. Not, mind you, that it should really make much of a difference, this time round (let's face it: it's not as though we're all biting our nails in sheer anticipation of an unforeseeable outcome, are we?)… but still. The situation is awkward, for at least two rea- sons I can think of off-hand. One, because – and this hap- pens every five years, by the way: and I still can't ever get my head around it – believe it or not, what I wrote above actually translates into: "I am writing this TODAY (Fri- day), about an election that hap- pened YESTERDAY (Saturday), which you are reading… erm… TODAY (Sunday)… which just also happens to be… THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW (Satur- day)…' No, hang on, wait… see what I mean? The 'day after tomorrow' is actually SUNDAY; it's 'to- morrow' that's 'SATURDAY'… which of course means that 'TO- DAY' must actually be… um… the 'day before yesterday'? The 'middle of next week'? Oh, never mind. I give up (like I always do every five years, any- way). So let's just skip directly to problem number two. It's a little like that 'Day of Si- lence and Reflection', I suppose: 'pointless, and obsolete'. The election hasn't actually hap- pened yet; so there is precious little that can be written about it today (I mean 'the day before yesterday', of course; but hey, let's not start all that over again) that wouldn't already be 'obso- lete' by the time you read it on… erm… whenever you end up reading it. But it's pointless for another reason, too. Because even if we could still safely find something to discuss, about a final outcome that is about as predictable as… ooh, let's see now: the ending of the 1997 blockbuster, 'Titan- ic' (SPOILER ALERT! 'And the band played on…') it would still be more or less the exact same discussion we've all been having these past five weeks anyway. Or the past five years; or even, for that matter, the past five dec- ades. In fact, for all the difference this election is likely to bring about, in real terms… the stark truth is that it may as well not have taken place at all. All the same, however: even if the ending does turn out to be slightly unexpected… if the 'Ti- tanic' does somehow manage to surprises us all: you know, by skillfully avoiding that iceberg at the last second, and sailing safely into New York harbour on April 17, 1912 (as originally sched- uled)… … it's still not likely to bring about very real 'change', is it? Oh, OK: except maybe that Leonardo di Caprio wouldn't have frozen to death in the North Atlantic (which he could have easily avoided anyway: there was, let's face it, shit-loads of room on that raft); and there'd be no point whatsoever in that final scene - where Gloria Stuart drops the 'Heart of the Ocean' into the, um, 'heart of the ocean' - because…. … well, there wouldn't have been any blockbuster called 'Ti- tanic' in 1997 in the first place, would there? In fact, we prob- ably wouldn't even know the name of that particular White Star cruise-liner at all… But closing an eye at even that little detail: it still wouldn't change all the other flaws and defects of the film itself. The script would still be just as me- diocre; the acting would still be just as wooden; and Kate Win- slet would still look just like she had a toothache, for the movie's entire three-and-a-half hour running time… Well, the same goes for Mal- ta's entire political situation, too. Whatever the outcome of this election, we would still all wake up on Sunday, and find ourselves living in exactly the same old 'disaster movie' as before. As things stand, then, the only real tangible difference we will all wake up to (and again, it ap- plies regardless of who actually wins) is… NOISE. From a 'Day of Silence and Reflection', it will simply become a 'Day of May- hem, and Pointless Tooting of Horns'… … and quite befittingly, too, I might add. For let's face it: the horn of your car does not exact- ly 'change its tone', depending on whether you're honking it to celebrate a Nationalist or Labour victory, does it? No indeed: it still remains exactly the same old grating, flat, metallic monotone that we all know (and hate) so much… the same sound that was specifically designed to inflict the maximum annoyance and irritation possible, to everyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot… even when it's the on- ly one being honked at the time (still less, when there are around 200,000 of the blasted things all honking in unison: from the mo- ment the election result is an- nounced, until… whenever their car batteries go flat…) And what is that, if not a di- rect auditory correlative of the entire five weeks of the election campaign itself? Two parties, endlessly honking the same old, utterly indistinguishable klaxon? But tell you what: instead of sitting back and complaining (si- lently and reflectively, of course) about the 'pointlessness' of an election result that we all know will not bring about one single iota of real change whatsoever… … let's at least try and resolve, once and for all, all the equally 'pointless' issues that are actually within our grasp to rectify. And as we clearly can't do anything at all, about a result that is likely to be announced sometime later toda… I mean, whenever… how about we do something about that dratted 'Day of Silence and Reflection' instead? So here's my plan: seeing as we all already know how utter- ly futile it is, to impose a 'Day of Silence' on pre-election Friday – you know, when there are still quite a few hours to go before the polls actually open… which also means that there's still plenty of time to carry on with what is, after all, the whole point of any election campaign: you know… bullying, bribing, threatening, cajoling… that sort of thing… … and by the same token, we all equally know that post-elec- tion Sundays are very much the opposite of all that: in the sense