A trip down memory lane

It has just crossed my radar that towards the end of September, just after Independence Day, Sir Temi Zammit Hall at the University is to be graced, if you'll forgive the dripping sarcasm, by a musical celebrating the life of Dom Mintoff. Apparently, we are in the centenary year of the man's birth. You can see a promo for the thing on Daphne Caruana Galizia's blog, if you can stand to get past the first few seconds of turgidness. As I have tweeted, I object to this, both as an alumnus of Tal-Qroqq and as a member of staff, minor component of the latter as I may be. Anyone more than a few years younger than I might be wondering why, whether this is purely on artistic grounds or whether there is anything else underlying my disgust at this. Well, here's why, folks - and if anyone thinks that I'm raking over old coals and dredging up ancient history in lieu of donning the rose-tinted spectacles that seem to be de rigeur when discussing our past, well, tough. Some things don't improve with age, and Dom Mintoff is one of them, especially in the context of that which I'm referring to now, the way he and his henchmen treated the University and its students and staff. The starting point...

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