People never ask, although they should, how this site (which will probably henceforth be updated at least once a week) chooses it subjects of scrutiny. What threshold of rank foolishness must one overstep to qualify for the treatment?
In truth, the answer is sometimes a matter of fairly dry statistical inquiry. Consider, for instance, the automaton-inspired writing of Malta's uninspiring answer to Herbert Norkus, the future onorevoli Mathieu Cilia.
As has now been decreed by the Nationalist mother ship, all communications with the civilian untermensch must open with declarations of the party's unfettered passion toil and, er, labour:
"The outgoing year has been a busy one indeed for the Nationalist Party youth section."
What humane mission can these selfless militias of national pride possibly be undertaking? Why, reaching out "to the younger generation who are often labelled as being reluctant towards politics", naturally. Not reluctant to embrace the deathly throes of Cilia's crushingly beige ideology?! What responsible and strapping youngster would not embrace the possibility of latching themselves into the suicide belt of tedious mediocrity by their venerable early twenties?
Because even Cilia cannot be so obtuse as not to realise that convincing the impressionable is not as easy as it looks, he is compelled to raid the thesaurus for variations on a theme that he hopes will distract reader from the inherently staid quality of his organisation. He thus refers to "new jobs" (twice), "the young" (twice). "younger generation" (twice), "enthusiasm" (three times), "change" (twice).
But because Cilia is as obtuse as he looks, he couches his weirdly patronising allusions to the young in the setting of adult approval. The "younger generation", for all their enthusiasm, are still there to be judged by him and his middle-aged peers. At one point, he recounts how debates have been "well attended by politicians and experts in the various spheres who listened to the valid suggestions of the young audience". One can only imagine that the events were indeed attended by the self-important idiot classes that populate Malta's corridors of influence, who would occasionally condescend and evaluate the validity of the young people's views.
Because what Cilia omits to mention is that politics and politicians (both mentioned twice) switch off swathes of the Maltese "younger generations" because they do not offer engagement and dialogue (not mentioned once) but grudging acceptance into a moronic cabal of mutual gratification.
And where do statistics come into this? What words other than the mini-me management speak would a more effective propagandist utilize to appeal to the young (granted that nobody but a halfwit would use The Times to perform the deed). Engagement? Cilia does not mention it once. Dialogue. Nope. Talk. Nah. Conversation. Not. Honesty. Nyet. And the list goes on.
When he talks about work, he refers to his own party. When he talks about jobs, he does it to boast about the factory line employment that passes for economic progress these days.
How about his single use of "elections", which he uses to crow about his party winning, but his failure to acknowledge "democracy". And how about "solidarity" and "justice", popular slogan words when his party actually meant something to people other than its supporters? Zero.
If he trips himself up through the involuntary sins of omission of a prematurely middle-aged political hack, it is his grotesque aping of his adult models that really show him up for the fraud that he is. This is where the piece must end, because anyone who cannot see the perverse irony of a man supposedly tasked with galvanizing the young writing the follow sentence is already a lost cause:
"… pensions reform, which is an urgent matter if we, the pensioners of tomorrow, want a secure future."