During the course of any serious police investigation a key question that needs to be established is the motive for the crime concerned. The vast majority of all crimes are carried out for some reason or another. Crimes that are carried out without clear motive on the part of the perpetrators are more likely to involve a degree of insanity than not. Even in the event of a crime where no suspects have been immediately available for questioning, potential suspects may be identified through the establishment of likely potential motives.

Unfortunately it does not immediately appear that the Maltese authorities are seriously investigating the continuous flow of illegal immigrants to Malta and neighbouring landmasses. If the patterns that I perceive in the media’s reporting and lack of reporting are anything to go by then one might be forgiven for pointing out that the lion’s share of analysis ever carried out gravitating around the question of motive has typically centred around the collective motives of the illegal immigrants themselves.

Yes, we know that the vast majority of them have economic motives, in search of greener pastures, that a few are escaping famine and war; and that a few others are possibly escaping the law of their respective countries of origin. This is all well and good but such information is about as useful as health authorities asking restaurant-goers why they choose a particular fast food chain to dine at – it is of limited value in the context of determining the health impact of such a fast food chain.

More relevant questions would be levelled at the traffickers themselves and those who aid them. Why do they do it? Does any question really begin and end with the money that changes hands between trafficker and would-be immigrant? Are there no entities beyond these that bear a potential interest in aiding or perpetrating the inundation of southern members of the European Union with illegal immigrants?

After all, illegal immigrants could potentially be very useful if it were in one’s interests to destabilize the economy of a country or a region. If one were to, say, turn a blind eye to the issue, or even pay a tidy sum to others to turn a blind eye… and if one were to make it such that such illegal immigrants find it very hard to find legitimate work… and if one were to also be of a disposition to offer unofficial employment, especially if one were to have one’s hands in the pockets of key individuals to ensure that such an operation runs smoothly… then mighten one not only be an opportunist but also a criminal involved in high treason?

A fantastic hypothesis worthy of Hollywood perhaps, and perhaps also similarly lacking in concrete backing, but I would say that it is not complete hogwash and find it difficult to believe that the level of incompetence thus far exhibited by the nationalist government has been a complete coincidence, but then again I take many coincidences with a pinch of salt. Perhaps if they were to make a show and actually start up an investigation of any such avenues, then I might be able to swallow that past incompetence has, in fact, just been incompetence. Faced with a choice I would rather deal with honest incompetence than dishonest competence and I am sure that many others feel similarly.

It is around five o’clock in the morning and a few creatures yet stir. The cat stalks its meal with its tail twitching, a nocturnal insect skitters over the paved flooring, the ember lights of a refuse-collection truck flickering on its nightly haunt of the Paceville entertainment district. Round the corner a waitress wearily stacks table, lacking the spring in her step that she had exhibited earlier near the start of her shift. The waves gently lap up upon the beach, each one draining away between the grains of sand in anticipation of the wave to follow, oblivious to the grudged rise of the working man and woman in preparation for another day of toil for their employers’ joy.

Time creeps onwards and a solar orb peaks over the horizon. The poorly roads grow congested with sheep and hogs on wheels, the cat narrowly misses it’s demise, the insect scurries down a dark crack and a few more loads of refuse are being dumped kilometres away. The waitress steps out of the shower and lays her weary head upon her pillow. The waves pick up and crash upon the shore with more force as grains of sand dance upon their crests.

Stuffed peacocks strut their stuff, hold their heads high and squawk in between fits and starts of preening themselves in self-gratification. They screw their expression into one of disgust as they watch men in reflective yellow jackets dragging a large bin and a broom along the road before returning to their self-professed hobby of sticking their noses of questionable worth into the affairs of those who earn their living through a means other than the peddling of misery.

By our own yardstick we are living in modern times. We would like to believe that the days when social class was accentuated are long gone and yet it does persist. There is no harm in the privileged taking pleasure in his or her good fortune but harm does come of those who would partake of the relative misfortune or misery of others for the purpose of their own self-idolization.

Is the individual occupied within the service-orientated industries truly deserving of the contemptuous treatment that they sometimes have to endure at the hands of their respective employers and their clients? Are they deserving of the ever more constrictive economic and social contractions that the employing classes would impose, given half the chance? After all, many who do work would also know that an employer is far more interested in expanding upon the fixed assets of any going concern than ensuring that their labour force is well-catered for. No, the worker, it seems, is fit only for the adequate, the minimum or as close to it as one can get away with.

Is the economic identity of an individual deterministic to a degree such that the fabric of society itself participates in a social variant of the food-chain, encouraging the dog-eat-dog world, as the saying goes?

In no way do I suggest that all individuals who serve are abused within the parameters of the law, and neither do all employers partake of the chalice of their workers’ blood, but it is a plausible guess that many of each category do. Such is a sad consequence of the structures of affluence and power that presently exist, with the welfare state as collective pacifier for the purpose of retaining control of the classes of quiet desperation.

A lot of persons remember what it used to be like to be younger, to be a pint-sized kid living out their childhood in their own unique fashion. A few such persons might also remember what its like to have one chocolate or sweet too many, that feeling that cannot be described as mere fullness but rather a feeling of not ‘ever’ wanting to take another sweet again… well… until the feeling passes, that is.

Well some people who perhaps do not recall such feelings or experiences do not need to pile on the calories in search of the feeling mentioned. Every summer they get the opportunity to experience something somewhat similar practically on a weekly-basis. I do of course refer to the ‘Maltese festa’ that some think so highly of.

Now I have to admit it. Once upon a time I was utterly fascinated by fireworks, of the strange contraptions that banged and boomed and sent colourful sparkles flying in every which direction in the darkened sky. The daytime petards were never really my cup of tea but, oh well, there wasn’t much that a kid could do other than bear them. I did very much enjoy the grounded firework’s display, watching the more colourful pyrotechnics at play upon haphazardly oscillating stands affixed loosely into the ground, and occasionally wondered if one might take off. Whether fortunately or not such never happened and the child was left to wonder over the arcane secrets of the unknown that might have been.

However many years have passed since those heady days when the distant musical jingle of the ice cream van’s approach, the polishing of small fragments of calcite, the sculpting of sand upon the beach, and computer games constituted matters of importance. Likewise I have grown more weary of the acrid smoke cloud that envelopes all in the vicinity of the setting off of land-locked firework shows, I have grown more aware of the implications of the shock waves left rippling through the air by each petard set off in the heavens above, and I have since realized that there exists such a concept as opportunity cost, the concept that one’s choices in life tend to come at the expense of foregoing others – particularly in the context of having access to limited resources. Last that I heard not only is Malta a place of very limited resources but we are a nation saddled with debts.

What are we celebrating for? Is it truly necessary to have simultaneous feasts in two or more parts of the islands? Do we realize just how much we spend upon fireworks in terms of money and blood? Do fireworks ‘need’ to be an integral part of ‘every’ feast?

I do realize that this all makes me seem like a wet blanket, like others before me, but would it really be so great a hardship if the number of feasts celebrated were slashed by a factor of two or three? This way collective agreements could be made between localities to pool resources in order to present a better-planned and financed show. The quality of such shows should therefore increase and overall satisfaction garnered amongst the population ought to increase also, less jaded by the sheer repetition of the fare available.

Would it also be anathema to suggest that feasts be something more than a church, a row of stalls and food sellers, and a fireworks show? Would it not be interesting if, say, a food seller’s fare were to be subsidised through some of the funds that would otherwise have gone up in acrid smoke and flashes? After all, festivities are every bit about culinary satisfaction as the visuals and the audio.

Might it also be anathema to suggest that the production of fireworks be limited to specifically licensed zones where containment is plausible and quality assurance could be easier monitored? After all, while pretty the fireworks themselves have proven time and time again to pose a potentially lethal hazard in imperfect circumstances.

It is the sort of prediction that was made decades ago, when awareness of the environmental cost of humanity’s burgeoning paper consumption was coming to the fore. For ages environmentally conscious visionaries have foretold of the end of paper as the predominant means of storing and illustrating information. They predicted that its use would petter out in the none-too-distant future and yet today each month brings desolation to yet another wooded area in the effort to keep up to present demand for the stuff.

Business entities, marketing firms and government departments all plough through countless tonnes of paper upon which they print their advertising, invoicing, communications and ever more documents with a shelf-life measured in weeks, days, hours and even minutes, academics leave no stone unturned as they decimate pads of paper in the name of recording their notes and even friends and lovers wrap their gift parcels in decorated paper. We cannot get enough paper to solidly satisfy our demands.

However were the visionaries really so mistaken in their predictions? At face value it may seem to be so but while paper demand increased there were a lot of other variables that changed significantly. Technology has come a long way since the time of mechanical typewriters and the original light bulb. Entire revolutions in communications and information systems have taken place in the last couple of centuries, including the radio, telegrams, the telephone, the television, the computer, the internet, mobile phone networks and many many more. Each invention served to change the way that we perceive distance, scale and the storage and conveyance of information.

What several decades ago used to be stored upon volumes of paper is now stored upon a microchip or a segment of magnetic medium within a hard-drive. Without doubt the volume of virtual stored information far exceeds all the written material in the World and is stored much more efficiently. The advent of electronic mail systems and short messaging systems over the internet and mobile phones has greatly reduced dependency on the postal system.

Therefore the situation is not that we have failed to reduce the proportion to which we depend upon the paper medium, although a lot more could be done, but the sheer volume of demand has increased, far outstripping the progress made, making the world ever more hungry for paper.

This being the case, it is possible that a total independence of paper documentation may be over a half-century away and so we today must think of ways to not only mitigate the impact of our dependency in terms of logging and waste, but also look ahead for the technologies that will bridge the gap between the present dependence and future independence.

There do exist plenty of uses for paper, aside from within its role as writing material, but even within this role used paper can be recycled a certain number of times. Non-recycled paper consists of relatively long fibres that provides the material with strength without sacrificing flexibility. Since the recycling process tends to break down these fibres into shorter ones the recycled product is of a lower quality and can be more brittle if untreated. Therefore it is not feasible to expect to recycle the material indefinitely.

On the other hand information technology may have come a long way but it has not come so far as to guarantee the eternal retrievability and integrity of information stored upon existing mediums. Optical disks wear down over time and use, magnetic and electronic mediums lose their charge. This is why there are many places in the world where paper is still used for official documentation purposes. Laptop technologies also have a long way to go. They need to grow lighter and more affordable, easier on the eyes and more reliable. Perhaps we shall even need to go beyond the concept of a laptop towards more futuristic concepts in interfacing and interaction. Such may be the stuff of science fiction but perhaps humanity is too distracted by other more immediate concerns to try hard enough.

Here follows a compilation of comments received in the ‘Ask James‘ page in the July-to-August period that weren’t replied to in an elaborate enough fashion to warrant their own posts. The quality of such compilations are determined by the readership in their inquisitive capacity. Two questions received and expanded upon are not included here but are included in the ‘Ask James‘ category.

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Sandro Vella: Kemm iggerrih fil-gurnata?

Ask James.

Me: That is a question of an unreasonable nature… ^_~

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Tony V: Ghalfejn dejjem tikteb bl-ingliz inti? Mela mintix malti bhalna?

Me: Hello TonyV,

Yes I do happen to be Maltese. The primary reason as to why I always tend to write in the English language is due to my superior grasp of the language relative to that of the Maltese language. I also believe that the ability to convey a message is far more important within any discourse than the language that one chooses to convey it in.

Secondly since Malta supposedly has two official languages, an international functional language and a local cultural language, it suits me fine to select the language that one not only expresses oneself most naturally within, but also results in the widest and furthest reach possible.

I hope that will suffice as a reply. :c)

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Sandra: Why do you pick on the Nationalists only? Labour have done much worse in the past.

And I don’t like your site. You have nothing better to do?

Me: Hello Sandra,

I do not actually “pick on the Nationalists”. You will hopefully have noticed that I am not flinging mud upon them but placing qualified criticisms. I also do not reserve criticism for the Nationalists alone, although I do believe that the Nationalists ought to bear the brunt of my criticisms, having practically been in a position of power for a couple of decades now, bar one or two years.

While it somewhat saddens me to know that you do not like my web log I do humbly point to the several links on the side-bar leading out of this site. I am confident that you will find something more suited to your taste. I am, of course, open to suggestions for improvement. :c)

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Michael Falzon: X’tahseb fuq l-ijuni tal-bidla James?

Sindy: James are you single?

“James Cauchi”: emmm Sindy if you’re single I am …….

Me: Michael Falzon,
Honestly I do not have any opinion about the so-called lions of change. I am skeptical, being of the belief that the Labour party is at least moderately infiltrated by the Nationalist party, and that therefore we have a one-party system posing as a two-party system… but it would be early for me to assess the reds in their apparent new form.

That was a short answer but for as far as parties are concerned my primary stand is that no population should have to feel captive to it/ them.

Oh, and for the record ‘James Cauchi’, the real James Cauchi would sound more along the lines of:

“Hello Sindy,

I do happen to be single as of at this time.”

I’d probably have inserted a bunch of other lines to weigh it up, but consider it highly suspicious that 3 questions came through in the space of 2 minutes. I guess a ‘lion of change’ paid me a visit. ^_~

Majjal ta’veru: James of course it is a joke, we (you know us) tried to pull a fast one :)

Me: No worries. ^_~

I personally have always been somewhat partial to that pale sphere orbiting around our planet. I appreciate the moon in virtually any phase of its cycle, especially the quintessential crescent moon. However the full moon is another phase that I find to be highly alluring. I appreciate how the rays of the sun reflect upon its entire visible surface such that there is very little, short of very heavy cloud-cover that can mar such a night. This totality is never quite so brilliantly illustrated as on the night of a lunar eclipse. There is something particularly magnificent about how the moon is not merely full but seems afire with a more solar glow, particularly in the minutes preceding the start and following the conclusion of an eclipse. It can be quite captivating.

It is during nights such as these that one who works by night can appreciate the silver lining. To be able to look up at the sky, to watch the waves gently and yet energetically lap up upon the shallow incline of the relatively unpopulated beach, to feel the slight but welcome breeze shifting the warm air, to know that a snack is just two Euro pounds and a quarter kilometre walk away, it all just kind of jars pleasantly against the chaos of Paceville less than a half-kilometre away.

Above and beyond the booming music heard from a distance, above the chinking and skittering of ever-shattering bottles, above the rabble of hot-headed drunkards and so-called bouncers who shame the rest of their kind with their violent dispositions, beyond the skyward lighting of more prominent buildings, exists a universe beyond our atmosphere that is both seemingly constant in its cycles and yet ever-changing. We are, for instance, ever so slowly losing our moon. The distance between the planet and her moon is growing. The tides and the weather have grown less harshly defined compared to that which history and prehistory have witnessed.

In the context of the grandness of this same universe we again return to the small-minded revellings of individuals in Paceville looking desperately for a little excitement and to add a little meaning to their lives, a mission as daunting as finding water in the middle of the Sahara desert. What is the point of inflating one’s ego every day or every weekend in the context of the enormity of the planet, let alone the universe? I do understand why many of them do it however, and the reason can be found within the history of the industrial revolution, where beer was used to placate the workers, to deaden them to their everyday misery, of toiling through a self-destructive routine to earn one’s daily beer and forget one’s misery while making the few wealthy, riding upon the sweat of their subordinates’ toils.

The moon witnessed it all before just as she witnesses the same today. The enslavement of the many by the few, not through banded shackles of iron but through the very legal system that is supposed to uphold justice in the country and in the world. Through this system the few enact new obligations for the many and machinery of exploitation for the few. They call it fiscal policy. They make the many think that they are doing them a favour, first raising the prices sky-high, and then ‘generously’ offering you the ‘opportunity’ to be their monetary farm. They give you the present and take away significant portions of the future. They have many ensnared within their trap of legal slavery and the moon can only remain silent in her witness as the many drink in futile attempts to drown away their worries and their sorrows. We have seen it all before and it never went away.

The boats continue to land upon our shores, bringing in an average of two-to-three dozen illegal immigrants per vessel. Our slightly more southerly neighbour, Lampedusa, consistently receives larger consignments of many hundreds of immigrants but as of yet we have been spared shipments in excess of a couple of hundred. Fortunately for them they have the direct support of Italy to help ease the stresses of the situation involved.

Rumours about the organized nature of the trafficking of the immigrants have been going round for ages. Such rumours were based upon the observation that the rate by which illegal immigrants have been entering have been somewhat consistent. Some persons have even coined the term of ‘the magic 27′, referring to the median number of immigrants per boat. One might almost start to picture a bookings agent attending to immigrants queries and taking reservations in a secluded alleyway in some congested North African village. Days ago it was reported by the Times that an improvement in the safety standards on the boats with which immigrants drift northward itself suggests that the traffickers have grown more organized, however that is as far as connections seem to have officially gone.

The people are to believe that all else is merely a coincidence, including the GonziPN campaign’s utter downplay of its relative inaction for as far as the illegal immigration crisis was concerned during the previous administrative term, suspicious considering the uncannily convenient reduction in the inflow of immigrants in 2007 and the similarly uncannily convenient increase in the inflow of immigrants in 2008, already practically confirmed to be a record-breaker with over 2,000 illegal immigrants received so far this year – in the middle of August.

Earlier in this series I had stated that Josie Muscat’s proposal for burden sharing is not the solution to the illegal immigration issue. I made it very clear as to why this is so, but will now add that this does not mean that burden sharing has no place within the tackling of the issue. After all, Lampedusa would likely be in much worse shape were it not for the redistributive efforts of Italy and, while the Maltese Islands have received relatively paltry assistance in redistribution, we could very well do with it, especially when one considers that this year’s tally exceeds 0.5% of the entire population of Malta. Who knows how many were accumulated during the past years following the turn of the millennium.

The concept of redistribution is not to be forgotten. It buys time to properly deal with the masses of illegal immigrants already here. It would be hasty to attempt to push them back south of our respective borders and would likely turn out to be a very painful experience. It makes more sense to tackle such matters in a more organic fashion over the middle-to-long term, relations with our southern nations crucial to mutual benefit and success.