Friday, September 29, 2006
Hot and Not
Too lazy to come up with a gimmick, so I will steal one from Jane Tabor of the Globe and Mail. Here's how the week ended, with my very own hot and not list.
HOT Jacques Chirac
A duck so lame, he isn't worth the orange sauce. But he was demonstrably dazzled by the Prime Minister, joning the swelling ranks of admirers in the international community for Mr. Harper. Maybe Jacques would like a couple of weeks in Alberta - maybe February at Lake Louise, so he could come to Quebec and ask Quebeckers: "why would you ever want to give up your claim to that?"
NOT Pervez Musharaff
Things are rough between you and Hamid these days. Thing is, the guy was just here and he's a really contemplative, charming fellow. So the bitter recrimination act may be good medicine for the NDP, but some things you said really rankled me. Ergo, Hamid will get a more sympathetic hearing. Next time, a little grace or small anecdote about fishing salmon in the Queen Charlotte's with the Suhatros.
HOT Rona Ambrose
The wobbly opposition was calling for your resignation three days into your tenure at Environment. You have accepted the single most difficult mission in cabinet. So far, you have endured enormous pressures to succumb and play the game the way the Liberals want it. As we approach the release of Green Plan II, the little bits leaked out sound very good, including your comments about regulation for the oil & gas and transportation industry.
NOT Stephane Dion
An audit of the federal government's environmental efforts says money spent under the Liberal regime, including during Mr. Dion's tenure, had completely useless effects. Mr. Dion defends himself by saying the auditor criticized the four previous plans, not the fifth and last plan which the PM axed. But if that plan was so good, why doesn't he run on it? I dunno, to me, plans of a feather flock together.
HOT Stephen Harper
Gilles Duceppe must recognize that this week something historic happened in Canada: an anglo - worse, Albertan - Prime Minister has done more with the Francophonie as an instrument of Canadian foreign policy than any Quebec Prime Minister has managed. Stephen Harper just made foreign policy a much more dangerous issue for his opponents. In Quebec.
NOT the Liberal Party
Joe Volpe makes what pundits declare are wild, baseless accusations that the Liberal Party has it in for Italian-Canadians. Then, on the eve of Super Weekend, they release word of the fine Volpe must pay for one of his campaign's fundraising or membership drive schemes. A brutal, nasty thing to do with the consquence of giving credence to Joe Volpe's Italophobi-phobia.
HOT Jacques Chirac
A duck so lame, he isn't worth the orange sauce. But he was demonstrably dazzled by the Prime Minister, joning the swelling ranks of admirers in the international community for Mr. Harper. Maybe Jacques would like a couple of weeks in Alberta - maybe February at Lake Louise, so he could come to Quebec and ask Quebeckers: "why would you ever want to give up your claim to that?"
NOT Pervez Musharaff
Things are rough between you and Hamid these days. Thing is, the guy was just here and he's a really contemplative, charming fellow. So the bitter recrimination act may be good medicine for the NDP, but some things you said really rankled me. Ergo, Hamid will get a more sympathetic hearing. Next time, a little grace or small anecdote about fishing salmon in the Queen Charlotte's with the Suhatros.
HOT Rona Ambrose
The wobbly opposition was calling for your resignation three days into your tenure at Environment. You have accepted the single most difficult mission in cabinet. So far, you have endured enormous pressures to succumb and play the game the way the Liberals want it. As we approach the release of Green Plan II, the little bits leaked out sound very good, including your comments about regulation for the oil & gas and transportation industry.
NOT Stephane Dion
An audit of the federal government's environmental efforts says money spent under the Liberal regime, including during Mr. Dion's tenure, had completely useless effects. Mr. Dion defends himself by saying the auditor criticized the four previous plans, not the fifth and last plan which the PM axed. But if that plan was so good, why doesn't he run on it? I dunno, to me, plans of a feather flock together.
HOT Stephen Harper
Gilles Duceppe must recognize that this week something historic happened in Canada: an anglo - worse, Albertan - Prime Minister has done more with the Francophonie as an instrument of Canadian foreign policy than any Quebec Prime Minister has managed. Stephen Harper just made foreign policy a much more dangerous issue for his opponents. In Quebec.
NOT the Liberal Party
Joe Volpe makes what pundits declare are wild, baseless accusations that the Liberal Party has it in for Italian-Canadians. Then, on the eve of Super Weekend, they release word of the fine Volpe must pay for one of his campaign's fundraising or membership drive schemes. A brutal, nasty thing to do with the consquence of giving credence to Joe Volpe's Italophobi-phobia.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
5 Things Feminism Has Done For Me
Joanne - as in Devil's Advocate - has tagged me and the job is to name "5 things feminism has done for me". The purpose of this tagging is to celebrate the brave fat-trimming of Canada's new government to the Status of Woman gang.
5. I took Philosophy of Feminism in my first semester at McGill. Except for Clapping for Credits - which I took years later, it was the easiest A- I ever scored. Half literate men score well so long as they play along.
4. It is where I learned what the qualifier Marxist really means - how to distinguish a marxist from a radical from an apple pie liberal. Did you know, in some eyes, Princess Diana and Belinda Stronach aren't women by virtue of their immense wealth?
3. I have chores in my house that my father would never have contemplated after a hard day's work. Yeah, thanks for that.
2. Tarot Cards that somehow ended up in my house. They were written by womyn for womyn who want to tap into the mother goddess for predictions. The illustrated cards are non-stop naked womyn celebrating in circles around bonfires, or helping one another to hunt wild boar. There is, of course, a repulsive wrinkly hag that represents the death card. And, you have to accept that because these are naked womyn to celebrate the pure womyn form, you get a number of real heffers in the action. But like cartoon Cameron Manheims, there is something intriguing....
1. I met my wife at the 1650 fuel station on the slopes of the Bullmoose Coalmine in Tumbler Ridge, B.C.. We were both getting our Caterpillar 789 Haul Trucks fuelled for the 12 hour shift. It was love at first sight - or at least keen, keen interest. And it would never have happened unless a woman, namely her, said "oh, I can do that." I don't have to tell you, she was a better driver than me. Nor do I have to tell you, she applauds the government's budget cuts, including to that bloated elephant, the Status of Women whatever.
5. I took Philosophy of Feminism in my first semester at McGill. Except for Clapping for Credits - which I took years later, it was the easiest A- I ever scored. Half literate men score well so long as they play along.
4. It is where I learned what the qualifier Marxist really means - how to distinguish a marxist from a radical from an apple pie liberal. Did you know, in some eyes, Princess Diana and Belinda Stronach aren't women by virtue of their immense wealth?
3. I have chores in my house that my father would never have contemplated after a hard day's work. Yeah, thanks for that.
2. Tarot Cards that somehow ended up in my house. They were written by womyn for womyn who want to tap into the mother goddess for predictions. The illustrated cards are non-stop naked womyn celebrating in circles around bonfires, or helping one another to hunt wild boar. There is, of course, a repulsive wrinkly hag that represents the death card. And, you have to accept that because these are naked womyn to celebrate the pure womyn form, you get a number of real heffers in the action. But like cartoon Cameron Manheims, there is something intriguing....
1. I met my wife at the 1650 fuel station on the slopes of the Bullmoose Coalmine in Tumbler Ridge, B.C.. We were both getting our Caterpillar 789 Haul Trucks fuelled for the 12 hour shift. It was love at first sight - or at least keen, keen interest. And it would never have happened unless a woman, namely her, said "oh, I can do that." I don't have to tell you, she was a better driver than me. Nor do I have to tell you, she applauds the government's budget cuts, including to that bloated elephant, the Status of Women whatever.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Mozart Wouldn't Have Given a Rat's Ass
Poor Mozart. Deutsche Oper Berlin, leading opera house in Germany, cancelled its upcoming four performances of his Idomeneo. Not exactly one of Mozart's hits - its a welcome respite from a whole lotta nachtmusik. Why cancel it? The excuse is fear of a terrorist attack during a performance due the presence of the Prophet Mohamed's severed head bandied about by King Idomeneo. (He sings while carrying around the heads of Jesus, Bhudda, Mohamed and Poseidon). If I were a German taxpayer, I'd be none too happy with this fatly-subsidized performance.
Mozart wrote about Poseidon and King Idomeneo, not the triumverate of world religion founders. That was the creation of Herr Hansfeld, a director, who parasitically inserted his attack on world religion into the production to make a splash with the Berlin set - which it did when he originally contaminated Mozart's work with his indulgent blather some years ago.
Police and anti-terrorism forces report no reason to worry about a terrorist attack. So personally, I'd bet it was a disastrous production headed for humiliation and they found a scapegoat. Well before cancelling the whole show, you could circumcise away the offending bits. If you had to have the heads, replace Mohamed's head with George W. Bush's. Say the update is an attack on this new god of American Greedy Imperialism. The crowds would eat it up. Critics would say you had finally improved on Mozart. Or, you could cut the scene entirely and just play Idomeneo as originally slapped together. Lots of options between highly-publicized cancellation and playing the thing as is despite violent eruptions in the Gaza.
Germany, unshackled by Bush's Imperialism, seems the last place where people could make decisions based on fear of terrorism. I guess we are all, everywhere, terrified by the nutball network among us. For instance, if I was stopped on the street by a TV crew and asked, "Is Islam a Religion of Peace?", my answer would be based on fear. Fear that I would be killed by a nutball for going off-message. I would say, "yes, yes, yes." Even though I would be thinking, "that phrase is such a cliche. What isn't a religion of peace? Did Bhudda ever say the road to nirvanna was paved with dead infidels? Every religion is about peace. By trying to make this about Islam, you are letting Islamists and retarded thinking off the hook."
Fear curbs civil liberties worse than W. We're stuck with Eine Kleine Nachtmusik because we know terrorists won't blow us up for that.
Mozart wrote about Poseidon and King Idomeneo, not the triumverate of world religion founders. That was the creation of Herr Hansfeld, a director, who parasitically inserted his attack on world religion into the production to make a splash with the Berlin set - which it did when he originally contaminated Mozart's work with his indulgent blather some years ago.
Police and anti-terrorism forces report no reason to worry about a terrorist attack. So personally, I'd bet it was a disastrous production headed for humiliation and they found a scapegoat. Well before cancelling the whole show, you could circumcise away the offending bits. If you had to have the heads, replace Mohamed's head with George W. Bush's. Say the update is an attack on this new god of American Greedy Imperialism. The crowds would eat it up. Critics would say you had finally improved on Mozart. Or, you could cut the scene entirely and just play Idomeneo as originally slapped together. Lots of options between highly-publicized cancellation and playing the thing as is despite violent eruptions in the Gaza.
Germany, unshackled by Bush's Imperialism, seems the last place where people could make decisions based on fear of terrorism. I guess we are all, everywhere, terrified by the nutball network among us. For instance, if I was stopped on the street by a TV crew and asked, "Is Islam a Religion of Peace?", my answer would be based on fear. Fear that I would be killed by a nutball for going off-message. I would say, "yes, yes, yes." Even though I would be thinking, "that phrase is such a cliche. What isn't a religion of peace? Did Bhudda ever say the road to nirvanna was paved with dead infidels? Every religion is about peace. By trying to make this about Islam, you are letting Islamists and retarded thinking off the hook."
Fear curbs civil liberties worse than W. We're stuck with Eine Kleine Nachtmusik because we know terrorists won't blow us up for that.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Two Liberal Hacks at an Ottawa Tim Horton'
Mike and Todd, Liberals since three, met this morning at a Tim Horton’s in suburban Ottawa. Mike got coffee and a dozen timbits for the two of them. Todd never ate more than three or four, which he considered more sampling than sharing. So, not even in a blue moon, did Todd bring anything more than his coffee to the table.
Todd: Mornin’, Mike.
Mike (cheerfully): Todd. Am I wrong or does Stalin run the country?
Todd (gamely): Jesus Murphy! He talks like Levesque, but he walks like Duplessis, if you ask me. Cutting the heart out of Canada!
Mike: A billion smackers from the pockets of the most wretched among us. CBC talked to an art dealer who sells fat rich Americans Native art for big dollars. Kiss that business goodbye. And you know the story – one minute he’s a high flying art dealer making loads, the next minute he shows up at your safe injection site looking for help.
Todd: You cut a cost, you make a cost. You can’t escape cost. I’ve always said that its inefficient to spend time time worrying about inevitable costs.
Mike: What about the kids having their internship program cut? Breaks my god damned heart is what that does. Remember that announcement? What a show! We brought all our kids – remember – up in Gatineau?
Todd: Of course! The Star called the event “the greatest announcement a Canadian government has ever made.” But it was nothin’ like the time we jammed with Tom Cochrane on that campaign song against aboriginal teen smoking – what was the song? “Say No, Tobaco”.
Mike: Maybe jam’s a bit strong. We pitched the idea to him.
Todd: In his recording studio. He played some chords.
Mike: Politely. Point is, Genghis Harper wants to push cigarettes on aboriginal teens.
Todd: Monster. When we announced that, the Globe called us the cutting edge of human civilization. I guess we’re getting a little duller, eh?
Mike: And dumber.
Todd: You talking that adult literacy program we did? The one where we got those good looking Vietnamese-Canadian chicks to put a fresh face on adult literacy? We got those posters on the back of every bus in the country. I call that program launch a homerun if you ask me.
Mike: The mind boggles – at least the CBC is chewing on them good. Thank god, there’s always Belinda when you need a smile!
They laugh knowingly, each now having two ways to dream about being Tie Domi.
Todd: Mornin’, Mike.
Mike (cheerfully): Todd. Am I wrong or does Stalin run the country?
Todd (gamely): Jesus Murphy! He talks like Levesque, but he walks like Duplessis, if you ask me. Cutting the heart out of Canada!
Mike: A billion smackers from the pockets of the most wretched among us. CBC talked to an art dealer who sells fat rich Americans Native art for big dollars. Kiss that business goodbye. And you know the story – one minute he’s a high flying art dealer making loads, the next minute he shows up at your safe injection site looking for help.
Todd: You cut a cost, you make a cost. You can’t escape cost. I’ve always said that its inefficient to spend time time worrying about inevitable costs.
Mike: What about the kids having their internship program cut? Breaks my god damned heart is what that does. Remember that announcement? What a show! We brought all our kids – remember – up in Gatineau?
Todd: Of course! The Star called the event “the greatest announcement a Canadian government has ever made.” But it was nothin’ like the time we jammed with Tom Cochrane on that campaign song against aboriginal teen smoking – what was the song? “Say No, Tobaco”.
Mike: Maybe jam’s a bit strong. We pitched the idea to him.
Todd: In his recording studio. He played some chords.
Mike: Politely. Point is, Genghis Harper wants to push cigarettes on aboriginal teens.
Todd: Monster. When we announced that, the Globe called us the cutting edge of human civilization. I guess we’re getting a little duller, eh?
Mike: And dumber.
Todd: You talking that adult literacy program we did? The one where we got those good looking Vietnamese-Canadian chicks to put a fresh face on adult literacy? We got those posters on the back of every bus in the country. I call that program launch a homerun if you ask me.
Mike: The mind boggles – at least the CBC is chewing on them good. Thank god, there’s always Belinda when you need a smile!
They laugh knowingly, each now having two ways to dream about being Tie Domi.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Plus Ca Change
Chuckercanuck knows he serves a sophisticated, time-constrained readership who skip over Liberal leadership news in anticipation of my helpful summaries. Tonight, I struggle mightily to unify a story thread that appears to be fraying rapidly. So, as Warren Kinsella would say, bits & pieces:
Imagine a campaigner on the stump, so electrifying, not only can he raise the dead, but he can get them to join the campaign. For a Tory, that's a mighty scary electoral prospect. I hereby declare Iggy and Volpe the candidates "Tories should worry most about".
Maybe Iggy edges Volpe in the race, because Alphonso Gagliano says the Liberal party likes to tear down successful Italians. I think its very important that the Liberal party show that it is not anti-Italian and make Joe Volpe their next leader. Otherwise, people are going to wonder.
There were some drop outs, the politician who said parents raise criminals, governments raise children and the Cross-Burning Lady, they both endorsed Bob Rae. Do we want Bob Rae to raise our kids? On that, remember, you don't get two chances to screw up! Let's face it, he's won the race. C'est fini. And hey, since Iggy might not even want it, Bob can run in Iggy's riding.
The only drama left is which sagging, leather-panted rock star will stumble onto stage and toast Bob in a drunken brogue. Oh right, it'll be the Barenaked Ladies.
Anyway, who cares about the race - Gagliano wasn't just pumping for Volpe as many of us are want to do in uncontrollable spurts. He was promoting his new book: "Paul Martin is a Terrible Person and Ruined My Life." This comes, in fantastic coincidence, with the release of Eddie Goldenberg's new book - the title escapes me - but the subtitle is: "Paul Martin is Canada's MacBeth and I Ruined His Life." (Check with Amazon, I may have the titles wrong.) Who cares about the circus of also-rans when Martin the Juggernaut just got sucker punched by Chretien the Titan?
Note: I do feel some sympathy for Paul Martin on this. Afterall, 1000 of pages are published calling you a malignant incompetent and no one peeps a word in your defense.
Imagine a campaigner on the stump, so electrifying, not only can he raise the dead, but he can get them to join the campaign. For a Tory, that's a mighty scary electoral prospect. I hereby declare Iggy and Volpe the candidates "Tories should worry most about".
Maybe Iggy edges Volpe in the race, because Alphonso Gagliano says the Liberal party likes to tear down successful Italians. I think its very important that the Liberal party show that it is not anti-Italian and make Joe Volpe their next leader. Otherwise, people are going to wonder.
There were some drop outs, the politician who said parents raise criminals, governments raise children and the Cross-Burning Lady, they both endorsed Bob Rae. Do we want Bob Rae to raise our kids? On that, remember, you don't get two chances to screw up! Let's face it, he's won the race. C'est fini. And hey, since Iggy might not even want it, Bob can run in Iggy's riding.
The only drama left is which sagging, leather-panted rock star will stumble onto stage and toast Bob in a drunken brogue. Oh right, it'll be the Barenaked Ladies.
Anyway, who cares about the race - Gagliano wasn't just pumping for Volpe as many of us are want to do in uncontrollable spurts. He was promoting his new book: "Paul Martin is a Terrible Person and Ruined My Life." This comes, in fantastic coincidence, with the release of Eddie Goldenberg's new book - the title escapes me - but the subtitle is: "Paul Martin is Canada's MacBeth and I Ruined His Life." (Check with Amazon, I may have the titles wrong.) Who cares about the circus of also-rans when Martin the Juggernaut just got sucker punched by Chretien the Titan?
Note: I do feel some sympathy for Paul Martin on this. Afterall, 1000 of pages are published calling you a malignant incompetent and no one peeps a word in your defense.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Guy Fournier: Tip-ical of the CBC Iceberg
Early Sunday morning, ugly, fast-moving clouds pressing down on the island; Rainbow and SkyPiper straggle into our room and we spend the first waking moments watching Coronation Street on the CBC. Then, it happens. The CBC is promoting one of its news shows - the one in which George Stombolopolous pushes the Guardian on unsuspecting Canadians.
George appears on the screen. "You know, there was quite a bro-ha-ha this summer over getting rid of my nose ring." Dramatic pause. "I didn't get rid of it, I just moved it." Then, the newsman looks deep into his denim-clothed crotch to silently indicate where the brass stud now resides.
Rainbow looks at me - thankfully, she has no idea that CBC's newsman just told us he pierced his penis this summer. Deprived of Dryden Early Learning, these kind of nuances sail right past her. Phew. Now, before anyone suggests to send a letter of complaint: foggedabodit. Said complaint would be instantly emailed across the CBC for laughs under the subject: "When will the Extremist Christian Funadamentalists give up their insane war against Sex?"
George appears on the screen. "You know, there was quite a bro-ha-ha this summer over getting rid of my nose ring." Dramatic pause. "I didn't get rid of it, I just moved it." Then, the newsman looks deep into his denim-clothed crotch to silently indicate where the brass stud now resides.
Rainbow looks at me - thankfully, she has no idea that CBC's newsman just told us he pierced his penis this summer. Deprived of Dryden Early Learning, these kind of nuances sail right past her. Phew. Now, before anyone suggests to send a letter of complaint: foggedabodit. Said complaint would be instantly emailed across the CBC for laughs under the subject: "When will the Extremist Christian Funadamentalists give up their insane war against Sex?"
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Canada Back At Centre Ice
Prime Minister Harper delivered a 15-minute address to the General Assembly of the United Nations today. He told assembled member states that the organization's credibility was at stake. The UN's credibility stood or crumbled on two points.
1. The UN had to demontrate effectiveness and commitments to completing its engagements. No where is this more important than in the UN's largest engagement: Afghanistan. A failed Afghanistan would be sorrowful proof that the United Nations was just an army of expense accounts, bringing no relief or cause for hope to anyone. But he assured member states that Canada was committed to making sure this wouldn't happen. Afghanistan is Canada's biggest engagement, by far, just as it is the UNs. Canada is re-investing in its capabilities so it can play a greater role on behalf of the UN.
2. The UN had to speed along its reform of the structure and practices throughout the institution. For the first time in a long time, a world leader reminded the United Nations that taxpayers - even those caught in the theo-brio-cryo-cracies - fund UN activities and deserve transparent, clean operations. He generously offered a model ready for implementation in the federal Accountability Act.
No doubt, the neutrality crew will be outraged that middle ground wasn't struck between Bush and the Chavez-Ahmen complex. You know, have the PM get up there and deny that the US is the Great Satan, they merely owe their souls to the Great Satan. I'm sure we can all picture a dozen oolumnists who've typed shift-W maybe 900 times tonight.
For now though, all we get is the opposition reaction which can be described as fulfilling all meanings of the word "hysterical" in one fell swoop.
Jack, as often is the case, sounds like the 3rd place contestant on celebrity jeopardy that you cringed while watching the whole game through. He gamely goes for numbers, pointing out that Canada spends $141 per Afghan on security and $16 per Afghan on reconstruction. Appalling, he declares. To rectify the problem, we cut our security costs. Like, when their tour of duty is over, we tell the soldiers to find their own way home. Or, we eliminate bullets from our inventories and save enormous carrying costs! We could rush ahead and start spending more on recontruction, but that won't actually build more things, just force us to rebuild the things that get blown up in the wake of our security budget cuts.
Dr. Keith Martin blasted the Prime Minister for not using the 15 minute time slot to sound like an auctioneer unloading a herd of beef in a hurry. The Grits tell us we should have listed the world's problems, instead of focusing on Afgthanistan for what was, as he put it, "an inordinate amount of time." That it is the UN and Canada's biggest commitment is meaningless; commitments are just annouceables that you hope people forget. Yes - official response brought to you from the folks who felt the mission extension should be debated 40 days and 40 nights. All of a sudden, its not worth more than three sentences in a speech to the world.
Canadians treat the United Nations with respect and deeply want it to be an agent of good in the lives of all humankind. We want it to defend peace, promote peace, ensure peace; we want it to help make life as good for everyone as we Canadians enjoy. Canada's speech today declared to the world that Canada was not going to let the UN sail into a fog of irrelevance. If our friends opposite want to peddle their foreign policy like cures for baldness, then they should give Hugo's handlers a call for advice.
1. The UN had to demontrate effectiveness and commitments to completing its engagements. No where is this more important than in the UN's largest engagement: Afghanistan. A failed Afghanistan would be sorrowful proof that the United Nations was just an army of expense accounts, bringing no relief or cause for hope to anyone. But he assured member states that Canada was committed to making sure this wouldn't happen. Afghanistan is Canada's biggest engagement, by far, just as it is the UNs. Canada is re-investing in its capabilities so it can play a greater role on behalf of the UN.
2. The UN had to speed along its reform of the structure and practices throughout the institution. For the first time in a long time, a world leader reminded the United Nations that taxpayers - even those caught in the theo-brio-cryo-cracies - fund UN activities and deserve transparent, clean operations. He generously offered a model ready for implementation in the federal Accountability Act.
No doubt, the neutrality crew will be outraged that middle ground wasn't struck between Bush and the Chavez-Ahmen complex. You know, have the PM get up there and deny that the US is the Great Satan, they merely owe their souls to the Great Satan. I'm sure we can all picture a dozen oolumnists who've typed shift-W maybe 900 times tonight.
For now though, all we get is the opposition reaction which can be described as fulfilling all meanings of the word "hysterical" in one fell swoop.
Jack, as often is the case, sounds like the 3rd place contestant on celebrity jeopardy that you cringed while watching the whole game through. He gamely goes for numbers, pointing out that Canada spends $141 per Afghan on security and $16 per Afghan on reconstruction. Appalling, he declares. To rectify the problem, we cut our security costs. Like, when their tour of duty is over, we tell the soldiers to find their own way home. Or, we eliminate bullets from our inventories and save enormous carrying costs! We could rush ahead and start spending more on recontruction, but that won't actually build more things, just force us to rebuild the things that get blown up in the wake of our security budget cuts.
Dr. Keith Martin blasted the Prime Minister for not using the 15 minute time slot to sound like an auctioneer unloading a herd of beef in a hurry. The Grits tell us we should have listed the world's problems, instead of focusing on Afgthanistan for what was, as he put it, "an inordinate amount of time." That it is the UN and Canada's biggest commitment is meaningless; commitments are just annouceables that you hope people forget. Yes - official response brought to you from the folks who felt the mission extension should be debated 40 days and 40 nights. All of a sudden, its not worth more than three sentences in a speech to the world.
Canadians treat the United Nations with respect and deeply want it to be an agent of good in the lives of all humankind. We want it to defend peace, promote peace, ensure peace; we want it to help make life as good for everyone as we Canadians enjoy. Canada's speech today declared to the world that Canada was not going to let the UN sail into a fog of irrelevance. If our friends opposite want to peddle their foreign policy like cures for baldness, then they should give Hugo's handlers a call for advice.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
OPECs Odd Couple
You couldn't find two more unlikely fellas for Chance to slap together in a shared oil cartel. Hugo, the hot-blooded, silver-tounged latin General/tough guy and Ami, the deeply religious, often creepty traffic engineer from the city that looks its age, Tehran, Iran. True enough, these two spend more time fighting over the mirror, where Hugo practices his charisma and Ami works on being the voice of God. But in the end, being stuck with each other, makes them grow to be stuck on each other.
Hugo likes the ladies, and Ami likes the Roses of Prophet of the Mohammed (formerly known as Danishes). Hugo's always telling Ami to relax and have a cold cerveza. Ami's always calling home to tell the mullah-kings the latest Hugo foolhardy exploit. Hugo walks through the apartment in boxers with a costant itch to scratch; Ami wonders what happened to the bottle of cologne they saved up to jointly purchase. Hugo slaps Ami on the back as if to say, "you loveable cook", everytime Ami starts on with obliterating Israel.
No odd couple could survive, nay thrive, as these two do without some shared interest - or, as in this case, extreme disinterest. Both consider the United States to be Satan himself - the Prime Evil. Each used the podium at the UN General Assembly this week to tag-team the United Satan-States of Mephistopheles. Do they really think, as men of God, that the United States is Satan - in the full, potent sense of the word? Or is it just some fun political rhetoric in the vein of a Howard Dean yowl?
I suspect the latter. Them fatsos in America will always be a great diversion from a government's domestic failings. It wasn't so long ago, our government was chastising the United States as the Jason Vorhees of Climate Change - and for what? To divert attention from the inconvenient truth that inspite of all the rhetoric, the Liberals were barely half as effective as W in controlling greenhouse gas emissions (while the US economy grew by a larger proportion that Canada's!)
So, when Ami plays Mr. Peace on the international stage, it distracts everybody back home from the fact that a wrong picture can get you raped and beaten to death by the state in a state prison. Hugo? Well, he's no George Washington, that's for sure - muscling his way to make a 3rd term constitutionally possible. But for now, he's got the people's support. Its like wondering what your friend is doing dating such a bum, only on a national scale.
Hugo likes the ladies, and Ami likes the Roses of Prophet of the Mohammed (formerly known as Danishes). Hugo's always telling Ami to relax and have a cold cerveza. Ami's always calling home to tell the mullah-kings the latest Hugo foolhardy exploit. Hugo walks through the apartment in boxers with a costant itch to scratch; Ami wonders what happened to the bottle of cologne they saved up to jointly purchase. Hugo slaps Ami on the back as if to say, "you loveable cook", everytime Ami starts on with obliterating Israel.
No odd couple could survive, nay thrive, as these two do without some shared interest - or, as in this case, extreme disinterest. Both consider the United States to be Satan himself - the Prime Evil. Each used the podium at the UN General Assembly this week to tag-team the United Satan-States of Mephistopheles. Do they really think, as men of God, that the United States is Satan - in the full, potent sense of the word? Or is it just some fun political rhetoric in the vein of a Howard Dean yowl?
I suspect the latter. Them fatsos in America will always be a great diversion from a government's domestic failings. It wasn't so long ago, our government was chastising the United States as the Jason Vorhees of Climate Change - and for what? To divert attention from the inconvenient truth that inspite of all the rhetoric, the Liberals were barely half as effective as W in controlling greenhouse gas emissions (while the US economy grew by a larger proportion that Canada's!)
So, when Ami plays Mr. Peace on the international stage, it distracts everybody back home from the fact that a wrong picture can get you raped and beaten to death by the state in a state prison. Hugo? Well, he's no George Washington, that's for sure - muscling his way to make a 3rd term constitutionally possible. But for now, he's got the people's support. Its like wondering what your friend is doing dating such a bum, only on a national scale.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Chuckercanuck's Neo-Conservative Litmus Test
The word "neo-conservative" suffers a fate similar to minestrone soup. It gets used to describe a wide array of things - but mostly just last night's scraps. Any hot-head who reads the paper and wants to impress an entourage just blurts out "neo-conservative" to insult whoever is the target of his bile. "Wow," people whisper impressedly, "he knows his stuff."
But like the abused and devalued word "minestrone"; there is really such a thing as a neo-conservative. I'm sure, at some point, someone's called you one in the heat of the moment - say as you cut-off him off on the ride home. But how do you really know if you ARE or ARE NOT a neo-conservative?
With the help of Professor Kurt Bildeberg, Freemasons Chair in Social Engineering at the John Galt School for Gifted Christians, Chuckercanuck has developed a test for you to decide if you are or are not a neo-conservative. Since the vast unwashed couldn't tell WADA from the WTO, the test relies on everyday symptoms of neo-conservatism.
ARE YOU A NEO-CONSERVATIVE?
agree with any one of the 5 following sentences and you are a statistically-likely neo-conservative! (welcome to the most devious, but luxurious club on Planet 3 of the Zernon System).
1. As a child, I had no interest in teddy bears, but preferred to sleep with a Risk board and small pen light.
2. I am a nerd, but oddly still a babe-magnet.
3. I am annoyed when people finally get their turn at a cash and then act surprised like they expected to see a gushing shower head. Then, they rifle through their personal belongings for what seems like forever to find a method of payment or cash remotely approximating what they owe. Including coin counting.
4. Reality TV is an evolutionary step forward in pop culture. People who think otherwise, don't realize what utter garbage surrounds it.
5. I commute by mass transit to work, hand-shovel my driveway and use a push mower to chop my lawn to size; still, Kyoto is malign bullshit.
ARE YOU NOT A NEO-CONSERVATIVE?
agree with any one of the 5 following sentences and you are definitely not a neo-conservative. (infidel! I stomp on a picture of you then shred the picture!)
1. If you play the X-Files backwards, the secrets of the universe are revealed.
2. Hugs are the best medicine around.
3. Everytime I hear Ken Dryden rhapsodize about a Big Canada Project, I get misty-eyed.
4. For 6 weeks after the final episode of Friends, I was in a deep, blue funk. I don't know how I'm going to cope with the end of Will & Grace.
5. When I lean my head against the window pane and contemplate the world's troubles, I get this irresistable urge to repent through a long, thorough spanking.
But like the abused and devalued word "minestrone"; there is really such a thing as a neo-conservative. I'm sure, at some point, someone's called you one in the heat of the moment - say as you cut-off him off on the ride home. But how do you really know if you ARE or ARE NOT a neo-conservative?
With the help of Professor Kurt Bildeberg, Freemasons Chair in Social Engineering at the John Galt School for Gifted Christians, Chuckercanuck has developed a test for you to decide if you are or are not a neo-conservative. Since the vast unwashed couldn't tell WADA from the WTO, the test relies on everyday symptoms of neo-conservatism.
ARE YOU A NEO-CONSERVATIVE?
agree with any one of the 5 following sentences and you are a statistically-likely neo-conservative! (welcome to the most devious, but luxurious club on Planet 3 of the Zernon System).
1. As a child, I had no interest in teddy bears, but preferred to sleep with a Risk board and small pen light.
2. I am a nerd, but oddly still a babe-magnet.
3. I am annoyed when people finally get their turn at a cash and then act surprised like they expected to see a gushing shower head. Then, they rifle through their personal belongings for what seems like forever to find a method of payment or cash remotely approximating what they owe. Including coin counting.
4. Reality TV is an evolutionary step forward in pop culture. People who think otherwise, don't realize what utter garbage surrounds it.
5. I commute by mass transit to work, hand-shovel my driveway and use a push mower to chop my lawn to size; still, Kyoto is malign bullshit.
ARE YOU NOT A NEO-CONSERVATIVE?
agree with any one of the 5 following sentences and you are definitely not a neo-conservative. (infidel! I stomp on a picture of you then shred the picture!)
1. If you play the X-Files backwards, the secrets of the universe are revealed.
2. Hugs are the best medicine around.
3. Everytime I hear Ken Dryden rhapsodize about a Big Canada Project, I get misty-eyed.
4. For 6 weeks after the final episode of Friends, I was in a deep, blue funk. I don't know how I'm going to cope with the end of Will & Grace.
5. When I lean my head against the window pane and contemplate the world's troubles, I get this irresistable urge to repent through a long, thorough spanking.
Monday, September 18, 2006
I want to be the next Anti-American Idol
The following post is my submission, along with my video-journal and professional photo shoot, to the new Hugo Chavez' Anti-American Idol, hosted by Sasha Trudeau in Cuba and broadcast next summer on the CBC. (Rumour has it, the theme song, "Here, There, Castro Everywhere", is so hot, they'll bump Mansbridge to 11 pm in a heartbeat.) My chances look good, except that I"m three years past the age limit and I had to fudge some answers. But you have to dream to make dreams come true!!!
ENTRY FORM
Name: Chuckercanuck
Height: 6'-0"
Weight: Noticeable.
Hometown: Montreal, Canada
Do you hate the American Bullying Imperialist?
I want to burst them like pimples!
Do you despise fornicating, homosexual western culture?
I want to smash things it angers me so, and my wife, and fiancee!
Do you sing or dance?
Sing, mostly, but I can do the worm and a little soft shoe.
Is capitalism a sty for pigs?
It is the necrotic material that nourishes thriving parasites.
Is Hugo Chavez a leader for the poor people of the planet?
I wake every morning with a joyful cry, "Viva Chavez!"
What music category would you most naturally fit?
Patriotic Pop.
Name something that would trigger a violent reaction in you, causing you to riot, torch buildings and execute people?
LOL! Trick question! Easier to name something that WON'T trigger such a reaction in me: strict adherence to my lifestyle on the part of the rest of humanity.
ENTRY FORM
Name: Chuckercanuck
Height: 6'-0"
Weight: Noticeable.
Hometown: Montreal, Canada
Do you hate the American Bullying Imperialist?
I want to burst them like pimples!
Do you despise fornicating, homosexual western culture?
I want to smash things it angers me so, and my wife, and fiancee!
Do you sing or dance?
Sing, mostly, but I can do the worm and a little soft shoe.
Is capitalism a sty for pigs?
It is the necrotic material that nourishes thriving parasites.
Is Hugo Chavez a leader for the poor people of the planet?
I wake every morning with a joyful cry, "Viva Chavez!"
What music category would you most naturally fit?
Patriotic Pop.
Name something that would trigger a violent reaction in you, causing you to riot, torch buildings and execute people?
LOL! Trick question! Easier to name something that WON'T trigger such a reaction in me: strict adherence to my lifestyle on the part of the rest of humanity.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Tooth, Floss, Bumper - Suddenly, Not So Crazy
sorry... this summer, Chuckercanuck has battled tooth no.37 in his mouth. It began in the last week of july. And only this week, am I scheduled to finish the root canal started in mid-August. Part of that lapse is my fault - or work's fault, I should clarify. But dentist vacation made up another bit.
so last night, tooth no. 37 decide to thob like Mt. St-Helen's on the verge of blowing. Today, its erupting non-stop. I hope my dentist can find a way to see me between bites of tuna salad on challah tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I'll I can say is: as bewildering as it is to hear the Pope quote not the smartest quotes on the planet, it is completly defeating to hear about churches getting torched in Gaza and the West Bank. Especially when they aren't even Catholic churches.
now, I'm must return to fetal position and wimpering self-pity. a demain.
so last night, tooth no. 37 decide to thob like Mt. St-Helen's on the verge of blowing. Today, its erupting non-stop. I hope my dentist can find a way to see me between bites of tuna salad on challah tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I'll I can say is: as bewildering as it is to hear the Pope quote not the smartest quotes on the planet, it is completly defeating to hear about churches getting torched in Gaza and the West Bank. Especially when they aren't even Catholic churches.
now, I'm must return to fetal position and wimpering self-pity. a demain.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
When the Spoonful of Sugar becomes the Medicine
This morning, Premier Charest urged the Prime Minister not to scrap the registry - in light of the near massacre at Dawson college. Later today, CBC Radio did a little gotcha journalism with a question about his campaign pledge to scrap the registry. The Quebec government and the CBC, before the autopsy of the suicide killer is complete, are launching a crusade for the gun registry - something that had no material impact on the event. Of course, we don't know that yet, the investigation is still early and facts few and far between. As the Prime Minister responded, we should probably leave those debates and decisions for when we know the facts. And, he underscored, the fact that the registry had no material impact on the event is in itself something worthy of study.
Quebec and the CBC, before knowing the facts, launch their righteous defense of a fabulously expensive list that had no apparent impact on a lunatic's ability to attempt mass slaughter. Results don't matter. Feel-goodedness matters. We've come to confuse the medicine with the sugar-coating and somehow think without the sugarcoating, we'll get very, very sick. Wrap it up in a new government initiative and we can give it away for Christmas!
Kyoto was similar sugar-coating. Today we learned that the AG is going to report that Liberal schemes under various ministers to implement Kyoto were luxurious, impotent wastes. Yet when the Tory Green Plan II is released later this month, it will precisely those folks calling "ice berg ahead!" and wailing for Kyoto. Unless the PM resurrects dinosaurs with the green plan, they will call him the most Bush-inspired demonic failure to be engineered by a conspiracy of monopolists who really run the world ever parachuted into government. The responsibility, I'm afraid, to have a useful debate on the environment will not be taken up by Liberals, or the Qubec government, or our broadcaster, the CBC. It will be ours. Because at some point, we'll have to move on from sugar coating and get to the medicine.
Quebec and the CBC, before knowing the facts, launch their righteous defense of a fabulously expensive list that had no apparent impact on a lunatic's ability to attempt mass slaughter. Results don't matter. Feel-goodedness matters. We've come to confuse the medicine with the sugar-coating and somehow think without the sugarcoating, we'll get very, very sick. Wrap it up in a new government initiative and we can give it away for Christmas!
Kyoto was similar sugar-coating. Today we learned that the AG is going to report that Liberal schemes under various ministers to implement Kyoto were luxurious, impotent wastes. Yet when the Tory Green Plan II is released later this month, it will precisely those folks calling "ice berg ahead!" and wailing for Kyoto. Unless the PM resurrects dinosaurs with the green plan, they will call him the most Bush-inspired demonic failure to be engineered by a conspiracy of monopolists who really run the world ever parachuted into government. The responsibility, I'm afraid, to have a useful debate on the environment will not be taken up by Liberals, or the Qubec government, or our broadcaster, the CBC. It will be ours. Because at some point, we'll have to move on from sugar coating and get to the medicine.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Right Wing Rock Contest - We Have A Winner
Sunday afternoon, before dinner, I collected the names of all valid entries in my right wing rock contest. I wrote them each into a spreadsheet cell and printed the sheet out. (I thought this was very clever, because I would cut them into equal, indifferentiable pieces. But this presupposed some skill with scissors - not my strength.)
I thought the raffle to pick a winner would be great father-daughter time for old Chuckercanuck and Rainbow. She'd get to pick the winner from my maple-leaf red tuque. I found her boiling water, "to pour into the ant holes on the driveway," she explained. This is the kind of not-quite-right thing that children deprived of Dryden daycare learnin' end up doing all day. She wasn't particularly interested in my raffle, but she plunged her hand into my tuque and pulled a name out. She crumpled the name and shot it into my face with a grimace.
On my hands and knees, I found the name -- fate has a sense of humour. Since I cannot convey, in any efficient manner, the melody; I give you the lyrics to the next great blues song...
Joe Green's Blues
At each dawn, I grow more sorry,
This country, she’s a turnin’ Tory,
Once, like pigs, we made a mess of it,
Then these folks come screamin’ “deficit”.
Well mean Joe Green’s had enough,
Gonna pull this nation from an iffy bluff,
The nation wilts in the hands of the craven,
Time to turn us back to a commie haven.
Chorus
You look like lambs and coo like fawns
But in your heart, you’re all neokons,
And when You get to meet Almighty,
He’ll say, “You burn you heathen righty.”
You all run when W say “fetch”,
You need his love, it makes me wretch,
On this great land, you’re an oozing boil –
Man o man, what you’ll do for oil…
You look like lambs and coo like fawns
But in your heart, you’re all neokons,
And when you get to meet Almighty,
He’ll say, “you burn, you heartless righty.”
I thought the raffle to pick a winner would be great father-daughter time for old Chuckercanuck and Rainbow. She'd get to pick the winner from my maple-leaf red tuque. I found her boiling water, "to pour into the ant holes on the driveway," she explained. This is the kind of not-quite-right thing that children deprived of Dryden daycare learnin' end up doing all day. She wasn't particularly interested in my raffle, but she plunged her hand into my tuque and pulled a name out. She crumpled the name and shot it into my face with a grimace.
On my hands and knees, I found the name -- fate has a sense of humour. Since I cannot convey, in any efficient manner, the melody; I give you the lyrics to the next great blues song...
Joe Green's Blues
At each dawn, I grow more sorry,
This country, she’s a turnin’ Tory,
Once, like pigs, we made a mess of it,
Then these folks come screamin’ “deficit”.
Well mean Joe Green’s had enough,
Gonna pull this nation from an iffy bluff,
The nation wilts in the hands of the craven,
Time to turn us back to a commie haven.
Chorus
You look like lambs and coo like fawns
But in your heart, you’re all neokons,
And when You get to meet Almighty,
He’ll say, “You burn you heathen righty.”
You all run when W say “fetch”,
You need his love, it makes me wretch,
On this great land, you’re an oozing boil –
Man o man, what you’ll do for oil…
You look like lambs and coo like fawns
But in your heart, you’re all neokons,
And when you get to meet Almighty,
He’ll say, “you burn, you heartless righty.”
Sunday, September 10, 2006
They even spotted Elizabeth May in QC
Wow, like the rest of you, I really understand what Paul Simon meant by the sound of silence; having caught up on a weekend of "progressive" politics in Quebec City. The clutter on the left has come to Quebec to plant a big wet kiss upon les gens du pays. Each deperately trying to show how french that kiss is. On that score, Stephane Dion wins sans question, but Jack Layton comes closest in terms of some meaningful Quebec roots and some pretty good french.
In one corner of Quebec, the Liberal leadership hopefuls had a debate, admirably in mostly french from mostly everyone. One radio-canada observer felt that some points of the debate became surrealistic, when different candidates used french words of which they certainly did not know the meaning. The one name he dropped in this context - Ken Dryden. Newsflash to la francophonie: its not just you, its all of us, surreal. Exactly. You put him and Joe Volpe swapping foreign policy ideas with Hedy Fry - that's called Lost Highway, the sequel. (Full disclosure: the actual trio debating foreign policy was that last two plus Martha Hall Findlay - whose french keeps her star rising.) The bottom-line of the story - like a Jamaican bobsledding team, everyone's really impressed just with the fact of getting a french debate done. Not exactly, good news - better than no news, but only marginally.
Meanwhile, the NDP was gathering very loudly across town, stealing all the weekend headlines with their bold pronouncement to withdraw Canadian forces from Afghanistan if elected into government. Personally, if I were trying to woo Quebec, I'd go with the other NDP pledge: build a transcanadian Cabernet Frank pipeline to put Canadian made wine available wherever there's a tap. But that's just nuance, the point is they scored the big news while the other party elbowing for the same room at the table left puttered to a sputtering finish.
If the NDP wanted to get serious about carving out a chunk of Quebec, it would go after the left-separatist vote with a national unity policy as audacious as its Afghanistan policy. The Bloc can't exist just because we like having Gilles Duceppe around. They could argue that they love Canada, but they want a Canada where Quebec is the senior partner in the two-nation nation. Overnight, the NDP could be the third or second party in Quebec.
All leadership races are chaotic and messy; the Liberal race will end and they will cease to look academic and unprofessional against a decisive, disciplined NDP. My advice to the NDP would be to have an energenetic fall to solidify the impression of being the clearest, most effective voice for progressive people in Canada. Oh, and pray for an Ignatieff victory.
In one corner of Quebec, the Liberal leadership hopefuls had a debate, admirably in mostly french from mostly everyone. One radio-canada observer felt that some points of the debate became surrealistic, when different candidates used french words of which they certainly did not know the meaning. The one name he dropped in this context - Ken Dryden. Newsflash to la francophonie: its not just you, its all of us, surreal. Exactly. You put him and Joe Volpe swapping foreign policy ideas with Hedy Fry - that's called Lost Highway, the sequel. (Full disclosure: the actual trio debating foreign policy was that last two plus Martha Hall Findlay - whose french keeps her star rising.) The bottom-line of the story - like a Jamaican bobsledding team, everyone's really impressed just with the fact of getting a french debate done. Not exactly, good news - better than no news, but only marginally.
Meanwhile, the NDP was gathering very loudly across town, stealing all the weekend headlines with their bold pronouncement to withdraw Canadian forces from Afghanistan if elected into government. Personally, if I were trying to woo Quebec, I'd go with the other NDP pledge: build a transcanadian Cabernet Frank pipeline to put Canadian made wine available wherever there's a tap. But that's just nuance, the point is they scored the big news while the other party elbowing for the same room at the table left puttered to a sputtering finish.
If the NDP wanted to get serious about carving out a chunk of Quebec, it would go after the left-separatist vote with a national unity policy as audacious as its Afghanistan policy. The Bloc can't exist just because we like having Gilles Duceppe around. They could argue that they love Canada, but they want a Canada where Quebec is the senior partner in the two-nation nation. Overnight, the NDP could be the third or second party in Quebec.
All leadership races are chaotic and messy; the Liberal race will end and they will cease to look academic and unprofessional against a decisive, disciplined NDP. My advice to the NDP would be to have an energenetic fall to solidify the impression of being the clearest, most effective voice for progressive people in Canada. Oh, and pray for an Ignatieff victory.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Froathing Dogs of Peace
A Canadian toodling through United States will very quickly notice the subtle differences between our two great nations. Better roads down there? Yeah. No Timbits littering the highways? Uh-huh. But what has tickled me most on this last week in Maine is that while Americans do not wear their politics on their sleeves, they do wear them on their car bumpers. No doubt you've all seen the bumper stickers loudly proclaiming the political preference of the car's owner: "Kerry/Edwards '04" or "A Pro-Life Family for Bush/Cheney '04". Sort of innocuous stuff.
But lately, the political messaging on the backs of Saabs, Subarus and Saturns has taken a more aggressive slant. "Impeach W" or a simple "W" barred like a cigarette let you know that this SUV was not purchased by a right-winger - nay, this hulking mass of 6 gallons to the mile is proudly driven by a Kyoto-loving multilateralist.
It gets worse. Stuck in traffic outside Portsmouth, NH (tourist alert: the loveliest city in North America), Chuckercanuck and family enjoyed 45 minutes behind a Jeep Cherokee with a bumper that read:
"The only Bush I trust is my own."
I blushed. I looked around hoping to find the male equivalent: "I don't even trust my own Dick." None could be found - but no doubt, some enterprising bumper sticker multinational has exactly that slogan on the presses as we speak.
Anyway, all this to say - there's but 2 years left to the dark days of W, but these vulgar bumper stickers will last as long as those clunkers are on the roads. Do people really want to remind us, well into 2010 and beyond, how much better their crotches would be at running the United States?
But lately, the political messaging on the backs of Saabs, Subarus and Saturns has taken a more aggressive slant. "Impeach W" or a simple "W" barred like a cigarette let you know that this SUV was not purchased by a right-winger - nay, this hulking mass of 6 gallons to the mile is proudly driven by a Kyoto-loving multilateralist.
It gets worse. Stuck in traffic outside Portsmouth, NH (tourist alert: the loveliest city in North America), Chuckercanuck and family enjoyed 45 minutes behind a Jeep Cherokee with a bumper that read:
"The only Bush I trust is my own."
I blushed. I looked around hoping to find the male equivalent: "I don't even trust my own Dick." None could be found - but no doubt, some enterprising bumper sticker multinational has exactly that slogan on the presses as we speak.
Anyway, all this to say - there's but 2 years left to the dark days of W, but these vulgar bumper stickers will last as long as those clunkers are on the roads. Do people really want to remind us, well into 2010 and beyond, how much better their crotches would be at running the United States?
Monday, September 04, 2006
Right Wing Rock Contest
Like every boulevard in the metropolis of pop culture, rock'n'roll is skyrises on the left and fallow fields on the right. Last week, eating a room service steak watching Fox News from a hotel room in Buffalo, I was greatly surprised to learn that 50 cent - once just a name, now my rap hero - is a Bush supporter. Naturally, it led me to list out all the other right-wing rockers that I know. Alice Cooper. Uhhh. Uhhh. When I got home, I pulled my wife away from her soduko book and got her to name all the right-wing rockers she knows. Uhhh. Uhhh. Alice Cooper.
So, I turn it over to you, dear readers - with my first ever Right Wing Rock Contest. If you know an actual, bone fide right-wing rocker, simply submit the name and some corroboration to enter the contest. If you can't think of a single right-wing rocker that isn't already named, you can also submit an entry where the rocker you named is "right-wing" only through clever speculation. No proof necessary.
Here are some good examples of this speculative entry:
QUEEN. Queen are never victims, anywhere or in any circumstances. Queen don't celebrate vitimization. Queen win, triumph, overcome. Their rock anthems brim with confidence and optimism. Moreover, Queen declared: "Fat-Bottomed Girls you make the rockin' world go round." No lefty rocker could ever say something positive about fat-bottomed girls - they would bitterly talk about the excessive share of GHGs these fat-bottomed girls consume. Only right-wingers could celebrate the glory of fat-bottomed lovelies.
DAVID LEE ROTH. He did California Girls and Just a Gigolo - here is a man who likes music from simpler times. This nostalgic longing is a sure sympton of traditional conservative values. As you can see at Havril's excellent blog, David Lee Roth has found even more roots, turning his classic synthizer hit, Jump into a bluegrss spectacular. Again, pining for the old days is anethema to the sugar-coated amnesia preferred by progressive rockers like REM.
There are more people I suspect of right-wing tendencies in the rock world but I can't put together a solid case: Tom Petty, Aerosmith, Rob Zombie, the Pointer Sisters. Maybe you could help there.
The names of all contestants with a valid entry will be put into a hat from which a winning name will be drawn. The winner will receive a free rock and roll song with their name in the title AND chorus, penned by Chuckercanuck. The song, it goes without saying, will be a rock anthem for right-wing sensibilities. Probably about the joys of public-private partnerships.
Contest deadline: September 9th, 2006.
So, I turn it over to you, dear readers - with my first ever Right Wing Rock Contest. If you know an actual, bone fide right-wing rocker, simply submit the name and some corroboration to enter the contest. If you can't think of a single right-wing rocker that isn't already named, you can also submit an entry where the rocker you named is "right-wing" only through clever speculation. No proof necessary.
Here are some good examples of this speculative entry:
QUEEN. Queen are never victims, anywhere or in any circumstances. Queen don't celebrate vitimization. Queen win, triumph, overcome. Their rock anthems brim with confidence and optimism. Moreover, Queen declared: "Fat-Bottomed Girls you make the rockin' world go round." No lefty rocker could ever say something positive about fat-bottomed girls - they would bitterly talk about the excessive share of GHGs these fat-bottomed girls consume. Only right-wingers could celebrate the glory of fat-bottomed lovelies.
DAVID LEE ROTH. He did California Girls and Just a Gigolo - here is a man who likes music from simpler times. This nostalgic longing is a sure sympton of traditional conservative values. As you can see at Havril's excellent blog, David Lee Roth has found even more roots, turning his classic synthizer hit, Jump into a bluegrss spectacular. Again, pining for the old days is anethema to the sugar-coated amnesia preferred by progressive rockers like REM.
There are more people I suspect of right-wing tendencies in the rock world but I can't put together a solid case: Tom Petty, Aerosmith, Rob Zombie, the Pointer Sisters. Maybe you could help there.
The names of all contestants with a valid entry will be put into a hat from which a winning name will be drawn. The winner will receive a free rock and roll song with their name in the title AND chorus, penned by Chuckercanuck. The song, it goes without saying, will be a rock anthem for right-wing sensibilities. Probably about the joys of public-private partnerships.
Contest deadline: September 9th, 2006.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Cumuluphobia
My fear of flying draws upon a thousand little fears, of which, actual, man-made terror is not biggest. That slot is reserved for clouds. From low, brooding storm clouds to wispy fogs stretching to 29,000 feet - all manner and variety trigger rivulets of anxiety the minute whatever tube and wing I am strapped to launches itself into the air. Only perfectly clear days - the kind that come with temperatures good for ice cream storage or in the climates where the only source of water is a 53' trailer with 22 pallets of Poland Springs.
Even cumulus clouds - white fluffy friendlies from which the highest quality toilet paper rolls - can send me loopy - doubly so if I'm in an aisle seat away from the window. Every little puff of cloud delivers some unsettling roil to the plane and the centre of these vapor marshmellows are no less blinding than their darkest, angriest cousins. Dropping into O'Hare airport in the company of dozens of planes the cumulus clouds look to me like an army of brain-eating zombies that I have no option to avoid. (Please, if its clear in Milwaukee, can't we land there and drive down to Chicago???)
So, on Wednesday, when Hurricane Ernesto precluded a scheduled dip into the Carolinas, I seized the opportunity to drive instead of book new flights for the final leg of this two-week, seven-city work related auto-de-fe, ooops, I mean odessey. I drove to Pittsburgh, ten hours from Montreal via Syracuse, Buffalo and Erie, PA. It was the second time I have done this. At a leisure pace, its a great ride where the last section through Pennsylvania is the finest.
If Ireland has as many shades of green as the Inuit have kinds of snow, it would still look dull to the lush, rolling countryside of Pennsylvania. The thriving flora brings with it a thriving fauna - so the I-79, cutting south through the dense woodlands of the state's western edge, is an unbroken line of roadkill. When I drove this last two hours south into Pittsburgh, I noticed that along with the smashed racoons and pulverized "no-really-sure-at-this-point"s, there were lots of blown tires as well. Reaching three-quarters of the way, almost at Slippery Rock University, I reached a sharp turn where the outer road edge dropped off into a steep, deep median. I asked myself, "hmmm. what if the tires blew on my car at this moment - what would happen to me?"
To reinforce the point, a passenger bus wobbled past well beyond the speed limit. Blown tires are much less scary than aggregations of mositure in the air; but their consequences are much more deadly. So, I will fly to Pittsburgh next time I go. (Actually, to Cleveland and drive from there because its much cheaper and avoids Toronto/Philidelphia).
For those of us who suffer from EFF (Excessive Fear of Flying), stories like that help. In fact, I could record Kelsey Grammar reading that story with the sound of whale calls in the background and sell a million downloads on ITunes, so that EFF sufferers can remind themselves why they chose to fly next time they are at a de-icing station on the way to runway 7. Of course, there's a pill you can take to eliminate the symptons of EFF but the side effects are extreme stomach cramps, hair loss and unwanted hair growth. The trade off doesn't seem quite there for me. Yet.
Even cumulus clouds - white fluffy friendlies from which the highest quality toilet paper rolls - can send me loopy - doubly so if I'm in an aisle seat away from the window. Every little puff of cloud delivers some unsettling roil to the plane and the centre of these vapor marshmellows are no less blinding than their darkest, angriest cousins. Dropping into O'Hare airport in the company of dozens of planes the cumulus clouds look to me like an army of brain-eating zombies that I have no option to avoid. (Please, if its clear in Milwaukee, can't we land there and drive down to Chicago???)
So, on Wednesday, when Hurricane Ernesto precluded a scheduled dip into the Carolinas, I seized the opportunity to drive instead of book new flights for the final leg of this two-week, seven-city work related auto-de-fe, ooops, I mean odessey. I drove to Pittsburgh, ten hours from Montreal via Syracuse, Buffalo and Erie, PA. It was the second time I have done this. At a leisure pace, its a great ride where the last section through Pennsylvania is the finest.
If Ireland has as many shades of green as the Inuit have kinds of snow, it would still look dull to the lush, rolling countryside of Pennsylvania. The thriving flora brings with it a thriving fauna - so the I-79, cutting south through the dense woodlands of the state's western edge, is an unbroken line of roadkill. When I drove this last two hours south into Pittsburgh, I noticed that along with the smashed racoons and pulverized "no-really-sure-at-this-point"s, there were lots of blown tires as well. Reaching three-quarters of the way, almost at Slippery Rock University, I reached a sharp turn where the outer road edge dropped off into a steep, deep median. I asked myself, "hmmm. what if the tires blew on my car at this moment - what would happen to me?"
To reinforce the point, a passenger bus wobbled past well beyond the speed limit. Blown tires are much less scary than aggregations of mositure in the air; but their consequences are much more deadly. So, I will fly to Pittsburgh next time I go. (Actually, to Cleveland and drive from there because its much cheaper and avoids Toronto/Philidelphia).
For those of us who suffer from EFF (Excessive Fear of Flying), stories like that help. In fact, I could record Kelsey Grammar reading that story with the sound of whale calls in the background and sell a million downloads on ITunes, so that EFF sufferers can remind themselves why they chose to fly next time they are at a de-icing station on the way to runway 7. Of course, there's a pill you can take to eliminate the symptons of EFF but the side effects are extreme stomach cramps, hair loss and unwanted hair growth. The trade off doesn't seem quite there for me. Yet.
