Somebody close to the PN told me recently that a feisty young person who decided she had the right, as a voter, to harass politicians, filmed Clyde Puli while he was quietly sipping a coffee and discussing politics with an MP in a café.

Apparently she heckled Mr Puli and even resorted to saying "vaffanc*lo" to the Italian waiter who, softly and politely, asked her to stop filming and generally harassing Mr Puli.

Now it is true that Mr Puli is the secretary-general of the party in Opposition, and therefore a public figure, but that does not mean that people have the right to harass him.

And no, dear Missy, being a voter does not entitle you to verbally assault a politician ... and a foreign waiter who is as extraneous to local politics as an atheist is to a religious congregation.

This lass' behaviour was crass and stank of bad manners. Mr Puli was minding his own business and this filly harassed him for no reason at all, except that he is a politician. Luckily for her, it was Mr Puli, not somebody from the Mintoff era...

I hope that the arrogance displayed by this silly girl is not a sign of the times to come.

The Mintoffian politics of yesteryear, of heckling, hysterics, and harassment, have been consigned to the dustbin of history. We need, now more than ever, the politics of persuasion, politeness, and pithiness.

The Banker of Venice, or, Wedding in Venice

While the government is playing God with motherhood and human embryos, and hide-and-seek with gender neutrality as a new feature of the national curriculum - all meant to retain the mercenary support of minority fringe groups - the Speaker of the House does his utmost to frustrate the Opposition's legitimate efforts to bring to light what is really going on behind the scenes.

According to Mr Speaker, what the Prime Minister's Chief of Staff is up to during his free time is none of our business. This is unadulterated rubbish.

Keith Schembri is one of the few people in Malta who can dial any number in the country and obtain whatever he wants for himself or for others. Anything. Any time.

Such people should have their lines tapped by the Secret Service 24/7 to make sure they're not using their influence for illicit or illegitimate purposes.

Of course, Mr Schembri's entire life is open to public scrutiny! As long as Mr Schembri keeps occupying his current post, not a single second of his life is private!

Is Mr Speaker so naïve as to believe that if a kickback is being negotiated, it is done during office hours? Or does he sincerely believe that the thinking public subscribes to such nonsense?

The honourable gentleman might profit from watching the opening scene of The Godfather trilogy, when a certain Bonasera visits Cosa Nostra boss Don Corleone to ask for "justice" on the day the Don's daughter gets married. That is what certain weddings are for Mr Speaker, to ask powerful men for favours. That is why certain members of the local petty crime scene invite Police Commissioners and their sidekicks to their daughters' or sisters' wedding. Those are the petty ones. The professionals invite the country's top brass.

If I know that without ever being a cop, Anġlu Farrugia should know it too. Or was he carried away by The Fourth-Floor Camaraderie Spirit?

There is nothing private in the life of public persons, Mr Speaker. They should not be subjected to harassment, but they should not be shielded from public scrutiny either. Virtue lies in the middle.

Daphne Caruana Galizia

She was no saint. She knew it and she did not want to be one. She disliked hagiographies and would have disapproved of any attempt at secular beatification.

Daphne Caruana Galizia should not be remembered for the writings in which she essentially harassed politicians. Also because they were an utter failure: she harassed Joseph Muscat, and he won with unprecedented majorities.

Instead, her memory should be celebrated for the fearless and outspoken public prosecutor she had become in her later years, when she charged with corruption the corrupt members of the Muscat administration. Her relentless, unabated, merciless depictions of the real faces hiding behind the smiling masks worn by Dr Muscat's acolytes are the hallmark of her legacy. 

Her leonine, selfless foolhardiness in defying all mafia-like constraints and exposing the rot and the rotten is the core value she bequeathed to the entire nation. Little does it matter that she unveiled the Muscat amateurs who pursue power to populate trusts - what matters is that she has taught the Maltese to stand for real checks and balances on the behind-the-scenes dealings of politicians and their entourages.

The sixth month from her assassination reminds us that:

 (1) Both the Prime Minister's right-hand man and his favourite Minister opened secret companies and trusts to hide moneys the origins of which have never been fully and satisfactorily explained;

(2) The Prime Minister might not be criminally responsible for Daphne Caruana Galizia's murder, but he certainly carries political responsibility;

and (3) One can hide, but one cannot hide forever. The truth will ultimately prevail.

Personal Library

This is certainly not an original idea, but I like it. My intention is to add, week in week out, 100 books that would feature in my ideal personal library at this juncture of my life.

Book  #1: One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967). 

Gabriel García Márquez's masterpiece is great on many levels. Its style - magic realism - is paradoxically more realistic than other attempts at portraying reality. Indeed, life is replete with meaningful though casual coincidences.

The novel brims with political philosophy and insight. Colonel Buendía's answer to his adjutant that war is fought for pride not principles is priceless. The haunting images of the blind old grandmother who spends her days keeping her home in order - a most potent reminder that we spend our lives in solitude trying to keep our affairs in order while being unable to see much of the bigger picture.

Nobody who reads this newspaper can afford not to own a copy of this book.