Onasagoras
We got the EU Presidency, and suddenly everything started moving at higher speeds—climate change included.
Who would’ve thought, my friends, that people would be leaving the UK to come to Cyprus for a bit of “cool air”? Because when it hits 44°C in Northern Europe, our 30+ (and Troodos sitting politely in the 20s) suddenly turns Cyprus into the Arctic Circle. Over there it’s a yellow heat warning; here it’s a yellow storm warning. Cyprus is changing. Let those who don’t like Christodoulides finally admit it.
I’ll just say it plainly—well done to little President Nikos. He didn’t just give us European prestige; he also delivered European temperatures, right when the rest of Europe is boiling. All this, of course, to create a better climate—not just on the island, but also for the upcoming Cyprus talks and to annoy those who question whether the President is “ready for a solution.” So to all the doubters: may your weather be as unpredictable as your arguments. For the first time, this government even managed to give Cyprus a more European—read: slightly more dramatic—weather system.
Our column, with its undercover van (thanks fox), has exclusive information about the little Nikos reshuffle. The one that will allegedly keep the petite queen awake at night (figuratively speaking… or so we’re told).
Maria the Beautiful is expected to leave her “potato ministry,” and in her place, whispers say Mr. Pampos Christofinas may step in. There’s also talk that Ms. Antonia Theodosiou, currently Commissioner for the Environment, could be persuaded—though given the President’s lukewarm enthusiasm for environmental matters (especially when it comes to pleasing Trump), that option might quietly fade away.
At Foreign Affairs, the rising favorite Raouna is heading in, while Finance goes to the ever-close “Irene,” much to the disappointment of the “come here, go away” Keravnos, who apparently shares a bond strong enough to survive budget cycles. The Commerce (and Expensive Energy) ministry will continue its peaceful slumber, as will Health. The President keeps wanting to replace Koumis, but tourism keeps doing too well—so there goes that dilemma.
Ioannides stays as deputy chief because, frankly, if he gets fired and ends up unemployed, he might just take over the entire system out of spite. No changes in Culture unless resignations happen first. Palmas, if he agrees, goes to the Presidency as deputy minister for campaigning, while Ioannou might slide into Defence. That opens Internal Affairs for a heavyweight DISY figure, while the ever-graceful Kousiou is being floated for Shipping or Tourism—or even Government Spokesperson, with Letymbiotis possibly moving to Defence or Interior.
The President’s trusted Giannis Antoniou takes over as Director of the Presidential Office. And oh—before we forget: once the current one leaves, Kombos is apparently headed for Attorney General. All this, of course, before Nikolas returns from holiday. Because after the election results—and before the “petite queen” scenario becomes reality—little Nikos is ready to promise (and reshuffle) absolutely everything.
Odysseas the “Unruly One” was once tearing his clothes over the independence of the Audit Office, and now his narrative seems to be changing. That’s what the usually calm Auditor General Andreas Papaconstantinou pointed out in unusually sharp tones, effectively putting a stop to the former auditor’s attempt to audit the auditor. As the Cypriot sayings go: “one day like this, one day like that” and “you showed up late to your own story.” It’s a sad reality, but every week he manages to confirm the criticisms that once surrounded him—and self-reflection, unfortunately, is not a strong suit for narcissists.
Supporters of “Direct Democracy” will apparently vote on the Cyprus problem via an app, according to Fidias. Whether the average Fidias voter fully understands what “federal solution” even means is another question entirely. When asked, he reportedly said “ask Styliana,” and his wife clarified: “Double Dose of Beauty.”
As for the controversial post by our national clown—asking police officers to submit CVs like footballers for selection—the best response came from Mr. Loizides: “Police officers are not football players sending CVs to managers.” Indeed. What a lovely atmosphere we’ve created.
