Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/313770
maltatoday, SUNDAY, 18 MAY 2014 16 " H awn tad-doughnuts!" How often have I heard that refrain in the last few months? Five, six billion times? I don't know, but it was often enough to confidently predict that by the time I finish writing this article, I'll be hearing it again. And, right on cue, here he comes! That rasping, metallic and suspiciously Dalek-like voice, drifting over the early spring haze of pollen and dust: 'Hawn tad-doughnuts! Hawn tad- doughnuts! Ara kemm huma sbieh! Ara xi gmiel ta' doughnuts!"… over and over again for the rest of the afternoon, in between intervals of exactly 15 seconds… just like the puff pastry equivalent of the Rosary during the procession of Our Lady of Sorrows. But how many times have I actually seen those doughnuts with my own eyes? Only once. It happened a couple of months ago, when – not unlike today – I sat at my computer and tried to cope with the stress of meeting an early deadline. And just as I reached that crucial turning point when words finally start flowing out (like rain into a paper cup, and all that)… along comes the doughnut van, and everything goes to the dogs. I shall have to admit, however, that doughnuts were very far from my mind when I finally stormed out of the house to confront this puff-pastry psychopath once and for all. On the contrary, I was chief ly preoccupied with thoughts of vengeance, retribution and poetic justice: imagining obscure places where car-top loudspeakers can accidently find themselves rammed, for instance… and if doughnuts came into the picture at all, it was only in a Guantanamo Bay-style force-feeding sort of way ("Ara kemm huma sbieh ISSA!", if you get my drift.) But when I finally got to within confrontation distance of the Dreaded Doughnut Dalek… something happened. My eyes alighted on the array of sweet and savoury delicacies in the back of the van. All my fury and pent-up hostility found itself wavering at the critical moment – it is, after all, difficult to sustain a foul temper with around 100 innocent little doughnuts looking back at you with doleful dollops of jam instead of eyes – and… My God, but he's right. They ARE beautiful. Every last one of them. Never before had I paused to admire the sheer embodiment of aesthetic perfection that is a good-quality doughnut. What a treat to the senses. How exquisitely proportioned in all their diverse dimensions. And what a marvellous example of 'unity in diversity', too… Some were sprinkled with sugar granules, so that they glistened like diamonds in the morning sun. Others had been given a smattering of dusty white f lour, so that from a distance they looked almost like a snow-capped mountain range. There were spherical doughnuts topped with custard; toroidal doughnuts artfully designed to resemble the Mir space station; elongated baguette-style doughnuts, complete with French berets made of marzipan. Some even had fanciful appendages of whisked cream, each sculpted into the shape of a prancing pony or a pirouetting ballerina. And at least one of them had a beard and wore a glitzy dress… Yet for all this diversity, doughnuts were they all… and on sale at only 80c each. So instead of impaling the doughnut man on his loudspeaker, I ended up buying half a dozen of his doughnuts myself – "le, mhux minn dawk: bil-jam biss…" – and my life has never been quite the same since. I am now more in touch with my inner self. At peace with the universe. It is as though the mysteries of life suddenly winked at me through the hole of a ring of freshly deep-fried dough. And I think nothing but happy thoughts of sugar-coated, f lour-topped sweet little nothings, all stuffed with jam. Well, it seems my conversion to the Church of the Blessed Bagel comes not a moment too soon. Next Saturday I shall be called upon to do my duty towards the Republic, and vote for the best candidate to represent Malta. And what better candidate could there possibly be, than the Doughnut Dalek? Seriously, think about it for a second. Unlike the major political parties of this country, he has never lied to us. He told us (a trillion times) that his doughnuts are beautiful. And he's right. They are. He told me I'd never find better doughnuts anywhere else in the world. And he's right. I haven't. More to the point: unlike any other candidate, he can truthfully claim to always be there when we need him. And even when we don't. What more could you possibly want from a potential member of the European parliament? But the overwhelming reason we should all vote for the doughnut man is his unique power of persuasion. If – without even trying very hard – he managed to not only pacify a furious homicidal maniac such as myself, but also convinced me to buy half a dozen of his wares… well, just imagine how effectively he would succeed where all other Maltese MEP have failed, and convince all the political groupings of the European parliament to vote in line with the national interest on an issue that actually matters? I can see him in action in Brussels and Strasbourg already: Speaker of the House: "Mr Doughnut Man, you have two minutes to talk about a common migration policy for Europe… starting… NOW!" Doughnut Man (through simultaneous interpretation): "Here is of the doughnuts! See how beautiful they are! Look, what beauty of doughnuts…!" Speaker: "Right, that's it, time for a vote. Unanimously approved, with no abstentions…" Finally, we will have been given what we were promised so no longer but which never materialised. A truly new way of doing politics… Sadly, however, the Doughnut Man is not actually contesting this election, so we shall have to make do with all the other lumps of dough on the ballot sheet. Now: is it just me, or does the Doughnut Man make infinitely more sense than all of them put together? Let's compare his mantra to all the other endlessly repeated, Dalek-like slogans to reach our ears every day, and I'll leave you all to judge for yourselves. "This is the moment of truth. Your vote will make it clear whether you believe who took you for a ride, and who didn't… It is an election that will confirm that we are going down the right path." (Joseph Muscat) "These elections are the perfect opportunity to reward Joseph Muscat and the Labour government. Whereas Joseph Muscat hit the ground running instantly, Simon Busuttil will only hit the ground running in another two and a half years". (Marlene Mizzi) "The European elections are an occasion to send a clear message to the Labour government and warn it that it cannot do as it pleases simply because it won the general election with a handsome majority… you can give government a yellow card, you cannot throw it out but you can tell government that you are not satisfied." (Simon Busuttil) "You can also send a message that the PN is back on its feet and the party can be an effective opposition. You can send a clear message that the PN not only can win three seats in the European Parliament for the very first time, but that it is ready to govern again in four years' time." (Simon Busuttil) Right: I think you'll find that both parties are relaying roughly the same message here… but unlike the clarity and self-evident honesty of Mr Doughnut Man's slogan, it is difficult to actually understand what the heck they are trying to say. This election is an opportunity to "reward Joseph Muscat"? Why, because winning a general election last March by a margin of 36,000 votes was not 'reward' enough? He wants more? And… erm… shouldn't it actually be the other way around? Isn't it the people who should be 'rewarded' for their choice, by a government that truly strives to create a just and equitable society for everyone? You do, however, have to marvel at the sheer humility inherent in the message. Such self less altruism, to turn this election into a shameless vehicle for self- glorification. Vote for me, because I deserve to be rewarded. Vote for me, because I'm THAT GOOD! Barf. Give me the doughnuts any Opinion Raphael Vassallo Vote for the Doughnut Man. Who else? How much simpler, to use our vote to support those in life who tell us simple things we know to be true. Like how goddamn good their doughnuts are