Onasagoras
Our young Nikos is a career diplomat, which means he’s developed a handy little skill: telling everyone exactly what they want to hear. It works fine in private meetings with a little black notebook in hand; no one gets offended, voters or otherwise. But when those sweet nothings get said out loud, in front of reporters, things can get...awkward. Like the other day, when he told the French ambassador that France is our most important ally in the EU.
Wait, what? That one had us more confused than his heartfelt “Egypt feels like my second home” moment.
Let’s not forget the famous mobile desalination units that were supposed to give us water in June. Then they said: end of July. Now it’s August, and only 6 out of 13 are actually working.
I do wonder how he’ll explain that comment when he next meets the Greek prime minister. Should be a fun little chat. Unless, of course, what he meant was “our most important ally, besides Greece," kind of like our minister who said, “There were no fatalities… apart from the ones who died.” Classic.
Or, as our dear Annoula says, pure schizophrenia.
Meanwhile, the Hunters (pun fully intended) made their dramatic exit, fearing they’d be caught in the crossfire of public rage. Let’s not forget, they backed the president because they shared the same spiritual advisor. That is, the head of the Hunters did, not Nikaros, who had neither a spiritual father nor even a shot of spirits, come to think of it.
So through divine intervention and a bit of mutual ambition, the president of the Hunters and our young Nikos bonded. After all, they were both hunters, one of power, the other of partridges.
And as I’ve said before, Nikaros didn’t need a spiritual guide. He was immaculate. Untouched. Unblemished. Sinless. Hallelujah.
A citizen recently reported a disturbing exchange with a National Guard officer, specifically, the Defense Minister’s driver. When told, “People are going to burn,” the officer allegedly responded, “I don’t give a (guess the word) if people burn. My only job is to get the minister out.”
Brutally honest. It’s like that old joke about communism: everyone’s equal, but some are more equal than others. Deal with it.
Tensions are also flaring in the Cyprus cabinet. Some believe a certain pro-government media group played favorites, protecting a few ministers and throwing others under the bus. What can we say, guys? Every crisis needs a human sacrifice to calm the gods. Or, as the president put it while calling for swift emergency aid payments, “...to soothe public anger.”
Not sure which spin doctor wrote that line, but I admire their honesty.
Now, is public fury really that easy to buy off?
Is this a war of benefits and compensation? Well... possibly.
The cost of compensation is estimated at €100 million, but I’d bet that figure’s headed skyward. Many affected will still feel cheated, because their payout won’t match the scale of their loss. And the usual crafty suspects? They’ll probably cash in without a scratch to show for it.
Why? Because this is Cyprus.
Let’s not forget the famous mobile desalination units that were supposed to give us water in June. Then they said: end of July. Now it’s August, and only 6 out of 13 are actually working. But hey, 13 is an unlucky number, right? Maybe we imported them during Mercury retrograde.
And while the units were “donated,” the cost of the water they produce is another sob story, almost five times more expensive than in, say, Dubai.
One bottle of water, Mrs. Vangelio! Just one, to "pofyrtó"!
