Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/797847
24 maltatoday, SUNDAY, 12 MARCH 2017 Opinion I t is often observed that 'people don't really know what they have until after it's gone'. In our case, however, it seems that we continue not knowing 'what we had' even after it does what everybody's been predicting for generations, and collapses irretrievably into the sea. The Azure Window, I mean: you know, that curious rock formation in Dwejra, Gozo, that: a) was never 'azure', and b) was never even a 'window' to start with. I mean, come on: you've all got windows in your homes, haven't you? Do they reach all the way down to the f loor? No, I should think not. There is, after all, another word for a window that reaches all the way to the f loor: it's called a 'door'... and failing to properly distinguish between the two can result in nasty misunderstandings (if you don't believe me, try entering a shop through the window next time, and see what happens). As for the 'azure' part... well, that I'm going to be a bit pedantic here (I have long argued that a 'Pedants' Revolt' is long overdue in Malta anyway) and insist that 'azure' is not synonymous with 'blue'. Not in English, anyway. It's a type of blue, yes... heraldic blue, to be precise... but the only time you'd ever use it to describe an actual colour is when spray-painting your car. (Leaving aside that, if the sea ever looked 'azure' when viewed through the Dwejra 'window'... it would have appeared just as 'azure' everywhere else, too. Not to detract from the magnificence of what we lost... but it didn't actually have the power to change the way light is perceived by the human eye). So let's cut all this crap about losing an 'Azure Window', and start talking about it for what it really was. A Blue Door. We lost a Blue Door... and it made headlines all around the world. But even that doesn't quite fit the description of what actually collapsed in Wednesday's storm. A doorway without an actual door might be a more accurate way to describe it... but all along there has been an even better architectural term that fits both rock formations and household features with equal accuracy. An arch. There: how difficult is that? It was an arch we had at Dwejra all that time. Not a window, not a door, and not a f lipping f lying buttress either. But in any case: whatever it was, it's gone now. And while I sort of understand the three days of national mourning this event warranted... seriously: all that remains is to f ly the f lags at half-mast, and to collectively f lagellate ourselves in the streets... I'm starting to get the impression that what we are witnessing is actually the beginning of a national nervous breakdown. OK, let's look at a few reactions. One of the first that got out and about was from Clyde Puli, Opposition MP, who tweeted that: 'The Azure Window has collapsed! What negligence!" What negligence, indeed. I've been saying the same thing for ages now. If 'Mother Nature' was a real mother, she'd lose custody of her children in no time at all. I mean, just look at how carelessly she treats them: allowing them to just rot like that, through millennia of exposure to entirely avoidable natural erosion. Not to mention lashing them with the fury of a Force 10 gale, just when they're at their most vulnerable and precarious. No, indeed. We should not have allowed this to happen. All the fault of the Social Services, if you ask me. They should have intervened sooner, rescued the Azure Window from the clutches of its abusive parent, and brought it up in a wholesome family environment... Oh, wait... now I get it. He meant 'negligence' on the part of the government, right? Ah, yes... because in a democracy, 'keeping natural rock formations from ever collapsing' is universally recognised as one of the more pressings functions of any government. How could I have forgotten something as basic as that? So what should have been done? Let's see now: we could have passed legislation through Parliament to ban storms of over Force 4, perhaps. We could have stationed wardens out on speedboats off the Dwejra coast, to issue on-the-spot fines to any waves which break the new regulations restricting wave-height to no more than 16 inches. On a more practical note: we could have filled all the cracks with Polyfiller, and hoped none of the tourists would ever notice. Or we could have built stainless steel scaffolding to hold the entire structure up: in which case: a), it would look no different to any random building site anywhere on the island; and b) we could hardly keep marketing it as a 'natural wonder', now could we? And yet, Clyde Puli's was actually one of the saner reactions. Some bordered on the self-destructively pathological. One newspaper, for instance, carried a story about how the collapse of the arch left the impression of a 'face' on the rocks by way of compensation. There was a photo to prove it... but unless it was the 'face' of an as-yet undiscovered life form, looking something like a cross between a rhinoceros and the Sydney Opera House... I'll be damned if I could see it myself. There was, however, one face clearly visible in that photo. It belonged to a man standing only inches away from the edge of a cliff WHICH HAD ONLY JUST COLLAPSED! And parts of which were still very clearly and visibly crumbling under his feet. I mean, while you're at it, why not shout out a challenge to the elements? "Oy! Pussies! You left this piece out right here! Too chicken to come back and get it, huh? Not so tough now that I'm standing on it, are you...?" Now: under normal circumstances, that would have to go down as the outright wackiest reaction possible: the sort of lunacy that eventually makes it to the annual Darwin Awards. But again, I include it here only as a footnote: overshadowed as it is by a much larger contingent that seems to seriously want the thing rebuilt. No, I'm being perfectly serious. There is even a petition to that effect – which may admittedly have started out as a joke, but which some are taking very seriously indeed. They want the thing 'rebuilt'... like it had ever been 'built' in the first place. In a sense, it reminds me of my first encounter with a walnut, aged around two or thereabouts. I remember thinking: how odd, that someone would invent What should have been done? We could have passed legislation to ban storms of over Force 4, perhaps Sorry, but we never had an 'Azure Window' Raphael Vassallo