All Vântu’s little rascals

All Vântu’s little rascals

An old poet of a new court puffs his cheeks out long after midnight: he revolts, sighs, gasps, roars. He chips in cutting out the moderator, gibes at her, asks for his right to speak that's been his for the last hour or so. The woman is fearsome, she apologizes, she's run out of deontology time, it is the minstrels' and high stakes' time. The poet recites, in various manners, the same litany slurred by the other titans invited before him: Vântu is good, Băsescu is bad.

• Now there, Băsescu is bad, I knew that, but to make Vântu a good guy, a brilliant businessman and neighbour of Titu Maiorescu, as a fellow man said while begging for sponsorship for a book of poems, is a wilful distortion of consciousness. It seems that, along with the money received from the generous businessman, all these people left their critical sense and their backbone on the threshold. All felt they ought to become his friends, very well understanding that requirements are extraprofessional based on the tons of money they were gifted with, but missing the fact they weren't actually equal to the original, but plain kept men. (Sorin Ovidiu Vântu to Nicolae Popa: "Old man, I am the one supporting you, after all. ")

That is why, all Vântu's witnesses, all mercenaries, all sponsored "old men", all "little rascals" kept in the wallet in the back of his pants (the quoted words belong to Vântu himself, as you can see here) made, for an entire day, an indescribable wing-ding in order to present the public with the depths of Vântu the man's personality. As an army of professional attorneys, these people have tried to render millions of TV addicted jurors a truth so simple that we can all utter, even the 300.000 impaired by the NIF or how many are still left: A such a good man can not be put behind bars.

Going back to the first scene: I couldn't but notice the moderator's bewilderment, the silent question in her eyes: "What am I to do? Is it allowed to cut the Poet out and send him to bed?"

• This is where I wanted to get: Thursday's show is a landmark in press history. The gap between newspaper men and Journalists was for the very first time visible. The first, petite and shivering, broadcasting at 2 A.M. from in front of the Court, providing breaking-news, trying, everyone at his or her pace, to explain the mechanisms of remand or the strategy of the defence. The others, big and important, carrying the fate of democracy and liberties in Romania on their shoulders, certain of all answers which actually stand for one and only that also targets at Băsescu.

• Or, I believe that it is harmful and suicidal for the press to nourish public hysteria by providing only "poetry" instead of lucid and supported by evidence information and comments. Yesterday we could see the true force of the "trust" and of the army of commentators, politicians and business men with a big Journalist text over their figures - a well fed and well paid army that was taken to exotic pontoons and, for months in a row during never-ending talk-shows, trained for the big day, when it really came in handy.

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