One of the biggest challenges this country has had to face these last 17 weeks has been resolved.  No, it isn’t the Corinthia land dispute or the Leader of the Opposition’s calamities or the 49 people left stranded outside our territorial waters pleading for asylum.  It is about who is going to represent us in the forthcoming Eurovision Song Contest.  

Thankfully, we now have our own X-Factor champ, Michela Pace from Gozo, who will be making the honours and this when we thought that everyone in Gozo is over 65 years old!  If my Eurovision Song Contest memory serves me right, I believe we had another Star from Gozo in the recent history of this amazing event that unites all of us Maltese, Gozitan, Beltin and Zebbugin.  She was an extremely good artist who blew the whole place to pieces whenever she sang and had this out of the ordinary talent but damn, I cannot remember her name!  (Trivia: Please name her).

However, I claim that everything that happened in this competition is a fraud and it is only when I see people ‘walking on water’ that I will change my mind. In fact, some keshin have claimed that we should change the name from X Factor to ‘X’ Fottiment.

I have done my share of investigative journalism, inspired by another Gozitan, Mr Lou Bondi (il-partner tal-Editur).  Guys, this might be my last piece if I don’t manage to come up with a good enough excuse why I dragged Guru Lou into this matter!  Hold on, here comes; ‘being the consultant on culture, music and other national happy moments blended with his never forgotten artistry in asking the right questions (and not once riding the crest of opportunism) is the reason why I dragged Lou in – he is exemplary!’ 

I now have to turn my attention to all the facts of this hideous X Factor plot in the next part of this article. 

Read on and it will confirm that all the doubts that you may have had are true.  In not so many words Michela is the result of machination! It has all been orchestrated to the fine details. Hand on heart I can now claim that X-Factor has been rigged, swindled and mocked up.  The winner had been implanted there even before the show went on air with those famous auditions that made the Country weep and with those insightful sobs of wild honey Alexandra. Oh by the way, was she there in the X-Factor Final or did she get an early plane to Rotterdam because I can’t remember any hooey comments last Saturday?  She must have been, 'compress[ing] all that is important into its simplest form' as she so well knows how to do.  As for the Finals what was important was that I was reassured that Howard and his prodigy ‘were kurrenti’ with their comments.  Whilst we are at it, needless to say that I could never understand the dark glasses of Raymond.  If that is what got him the title of ‘Mr Cool’ I feel it can finally be my epiphany. I have been trying to find myself a way into the chill crowd for ages and here it is, a dark set of shades you can purchase on the Monti for 12 Euros can make it happen.     

Now, let me tell you all about this gyp. 

First and foremost, Michela was embedded with Mr Howard (pseudo-Cowell) who is a close buddy of the X-Factor brain, the former CEO of PBS.  This ex-CEO is the same guy who would hug all his employees at least once a day and was terribly interested in their wellbeing.

Second piece of evidence. Well actually larger than a piece (please tell him to cut on the doughnuts), was our own tenor, our own blood, our ambassador and our one and only, Mr Joseph (read Joooossseepph) Calleja.

(A small tip whilst we are at it.  If you want your kids to become something in this country, please call them ‘Joseph’.)  

Everyone knew that Michela who has this big smile spread on her downturned lips would float into an induced coma and miskin that is why Joseph C. had to sing 87% of the song all by himself.   Bless him, he gave us a mini-concert without once looking at the person he is having a duet with (who said he was working on his inferiority complex?).  Everyone realised (because we are a nation of ‘smart this, that and the other’ and no one hoodwinks us) that as soon as Joseph the tender comes on stage people will start slobbering and SMSing the 50614401.  The mischievous organisers knew that.

Now there is another detail, because that is where the devil is and how this show turned diabolical. 

Joseph Calleja came in with his backcombing hair style held on together with enough Brylcreem to settle Marouane Fellaini’s curls and turn them into pigtails.  The plan was that Michela’s beautiful face would reflect on the Tenor’s proportioned head and that sludge on his head was meticulously planned to reflect Michela’s smile beaming across the Archipelago (tipo l-libsa li kellha tilbes Ira).  I bet Bendlu (I will tell you all about this ‘Bendlu’-thingy later) was rather pissed off that Joseph might have taken the limelight with this wet hot dirty look.  But believe me Bendlu; ‘ma jibdiex mieghek’. 

Now if there was need of any more evidence that it was all fixed to suit Michela, it was this other piece of evidence I’m going to tell you about.  Hold on to your knickers.

At one point the crane-shot caught Ira’s back.

The rumours were now proven to be true.  Ira bought her dress from Sylvia ta’ Zizzi l-hajjata ta’ Hal-Qormi (yes the one who munches on chewing gum like a goat) and is the same one who made our President look like a bed of roses (without roses) when she made her wear that infamous green dress.  They wanted Ira to look bad (an impossible task). But you know what they did?  We all noticed that there was a thread coming out of Ira’s dress and in fact she was just two inches away from a facebuster and instead of ‘Hey Now’ it could have turned into a ‘Bye Now’. 

The next piece of proof (please call me Sherlock from now on) was that they asked Owen Leuellen to sing in English.  This was really under the ‘belt’ – a thousand apologies for the pun.  I feel that whilst I cannot corroborate this piece of evidence, it is clear that there is the finger of Alexandra in the pudding, I mean, the pie. She just can’t stand people who speak Malti pur.  I am referring to the type that is used at the Stadium by the Beltin when they see the referee giving their opponents an Offside and consequently the supporters address the Ref’s gracious wife as 'f' gh**x kemm ghandha'.  They would never call her a ‘c*nt’ or ‘twat’, that is way too sophisticated for the Beltin.  So there you go, he gets a duet with our own diva Ira who struggles to string five words in sequence in Maltese, not that I don’t admire her that she did try to get her message across in the mother tongue and be kurrenti.  So they got the rapper Belti with his Apollo13 jacket to sing in English and the ftira is done – Luellen gets the boot!

Once again it all worked to perfection. 

Now there is another detail. Luellen’s moustache which as you know is terribly out of fashion.

Whilst they got into the miniscule details and Michela got her own laser treatment, upper lip and all the rest, they made Owen, the unruffled, nonchalant and imperturbable guy wear a moustache of the Barber style.  His sputum was getting stuck to it as he splattered his poetry and there you go again the puliti of this Country started to feel that they are getting one over that wannabe Jovanotti.   No way will he get the SMS on the 50614403!

There are other pieces of evidence to reckon with.  For example, I am very interested to know who the flip was that guy who had a duet with Nicole iz-Zebbugija.  He not only looked meaningless but his almost-absence made it a point to remind us that Nicole is only good to sing with the no-ones. 

It was obvious, they wanted Michela.  Even Howard the man of the industrija knew that – at one point he was caught flapping his hand to Michela to get her to sign the contract with Sony even before she finished her piece. Crass to say the least.

Now can you see that it was all orchestrated to the final detail?  There is more.

What is coming now substantiates all the case I have made in the previous 1,400+ words.  Let me give you the final piece of evidence that will condemn our own Ted Bundies to an electric chair. 

The confetti that was coming out of the ceiling, the stage and even from Bendlu’s ears, once the winner was announced, was yellow. 

Now ask yourself, what colour was Michela wearing?

Why were the papers yellow, from all possible colours?

Who was behind the paper gun?

Need I add anything else at this point? 

I have solved your mystery Malta and Gozo!  The badgering of so many posts on Facebook about this major event hit us strongly but resolutely and we will not be moved.

As a final point, the only neutral ‘falling’ star (the ‘falling’ refers to that original once in a life time stunt of the Mission Impossible type, bless him) was Bendlu Gamumellu (previously known as Ben Camille tal-Baby fuq l-Instagram).  Yes, he has now committed himself to change his name in Maltese after realising that by the end of the show he was not on X Factor UK (dream on buddy) but X Factor Malta.  But that is fine, it only took him 17 weeks to realise.  So the reparation for his sin of using English was that he will now become our own Bendlu Gamumellu!

And now, we need to see how to cope with life after the X Factor. 

What is sure is that next time round the producers are going to be careful because I will be watching and will tell you all about it, assuming I will still be writing on this newspaper!  Rachel, please forgive me, I promise you a duet and Guru Lou can play the tune with his favourite guitar (that’s unless it will mean I have to pay through the nose to get him to do the strumming)!