Category Archives: Politics

Vive Las Vegas

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Much ado about the so-called “Ghost MP” who’s yet to surface in the riding of Berthier – Maskinongé.  First of all, Ghost MP? It’s a misnomer. Frankly, I think, if anyone had the opportunity to vote for an NDP ghost, they’d almost all opt for Tommy Douglas, wouldn’t they?

Ruth Ellen Brosseau has not been seen or heard from since her landslide victory of  May 2nd. Which is in keeping with her profile, of course. She barely, if ever, set foot in the riding during the campaign, even taking a trip to Las Vegas. Why hang back and partake in the ritualistic slinging of the mud when you can hang out in a mud bath at the spa in the Mirage Hotel? Then, later, be dazzled by a Cirque du Soleil show? Incidentally, by most reports, her limited ability to parlais vous en Francais may have allowed her to fit right in, when she approached the box office and asked for tickets to “The Cir-cue do So-LEEL.” If she did, in fact, learn how to say Cirque du Soleil while there, maybe she can write off the entire trip as a French immersion class.

Ruth Ellen Brosseau: Really, and I mean REALLY, putting the “New” in “New Democrat.”

There’s blame to go around here. It’s true that the NDP should be embarrassed for fielding a candidate (or candidates, actually) with very few tangible qualifications. I know, they really thought they had no chance in many of these ridings, but you at least have to leave the impression you take the thing more seriously than a run at Student Council Treasurer.

To the people of Berthier – Maskinongé: Turn your outrage back at yourselves, just a touch. Did any of you check out even her Lavalife profile, never mind just a cursory glance at her actual, I don’t know, credentials? Or investigate her, oh, what do they call them? Umm… Oh, yeah. Her views on issues? Honestly, I’ve seen a rusted-out transmission on a junkyard Chevy Nova that was more engaged than you were in this election.

Not sure how much I blame Brosseau, herself. For all I know, she’s actually an intelligent young lady with lots of political upside. We’ll see. Elections Canada has cleared her of any wrongdoing in the possible fraudulent behaviours surrounding her nomination papers. So her culpability probably only rises to the level of thinking it’d be pretty neat to tell people she ran in a federal election once. Great ice-breaker at one of those way cool parties where young people gather to put much too much Miracle Whip on their sandwiches.

Maybe the real issue I have with her is jealousy. I don’t speak much French. I’m not all that up on the issues of the day in Berthier – Maskinongé. Like her, I never once set foot there during the campaign. Where’s MY plum job with the big salary and Parliament Hill perks?

Oh, and another thing she’s got on me: I’ve never been to Vegas. How do you say? C’est dommage, Don. C’est dommage.

Election 2011: Let The Chips Fall Where They Elizabeth May

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“Dude. That’s My Brador In The Fridge.”

Last night, I dreamed of Stephen Harper. No lie, no joke. I actually had a dream with the PM front and centre (er, centre block?). No, it wasn’t a nightmare, per se, but it didn’t end well, with a group of Conservative children chasing me down a street. The really odd thing about it was that former U.S. Republican Chair, Michael Steele, was leading them. What the first part means, I have my theory. The second part just probably means that I watch a lot of The Colbert Report and The Daily Show. I recall thinking, in the dream, that I sure wish Jack Layton would do his job and officially oppose the rampaging Tory gang. He didn’t, and my dream was denied a Layton-inspired happy ending. Suppose I should be grateful for that.

After some reflection (and a few glasses of Dubonnet), I believe I may have cracked the code of this particular subconscious theatre.

The rampaging Tory kids most likely represent my fear that our new government is about to embark on a 5 year mission of tracking down moderates and giving them super-wedgie after super-wedgie, politically speaking. Despite the conciliatory words of the Prime Minister in the wake of his big majority win, I don’t believe him. He barely was made to share the toys in the sandbox when he was forced to. Now that he holds sway over the entire playground, I fully expect him to be about as magnanimous as was Daniel Day-Lewis in Gangs of New York.

Jack Layton. May Or May Not Be An Accurate Depiction.

Hoping the NDP would show up to roll-block the Tory kids, but being disappointed…that’s an easy one, I think. It’s a nice feather in Jack Layton’s cap to become the Leader of the Official Opposition. However, he’s really powerless to do anything about, well, anything. When facing a determined majority on the other side of the aisle, the Leader of the Opposition is much like an NHL Goal Judge. Sure, he can get some attention by turning on his little red light, but it’s just symbolic, really. At least he gets a swell seat to watch all the action.

One more thing I should mention about this dream. At the outset, I got all up in The Prime Minister’s face when he interrupted a Michael Ignatieff speech. After I quickly admonished the PM I turned and Ignatieff was gone. Vanished. He’d had merely a cameo in this whole thing.

Not hard to interpret that.

Obama’s Trump Schtick: More Than Just For Laughs

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“Excuse me, Don, but that’s my Titleist caught in your Feskiw.”

 

Stokes The Super-Ego for Evil.

One of those little, itsy-bitsy moments of glee came my way over the weekend, from an unexpected source: U.S. President Barack Obama bringing the funny at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner. Pretty good material and, not surprisingly, nice execution from a guy who’s proven he’s pretty damn good at public speaking.

Obama, I’m sure, had much more serious things on his mind – like an impending raid of Osama Bin Laden’s compound, in Pakistan. But you’d never know it. He looked like Dean Martin on the dais, all relaxed and rat-pack devil-may-care. Maybe it’s because he knew he’d soon be uttering those most magical War On Terror words: “We got Bin Laden.” Or, just maybe, it’s because he knew he had Trump in a barrel, with his gag gun cocked and ready for action.

No doubt, The President had had enough of Trump’s ridiculous birther charade, and wanted to make him pay. Must have felt damn good. I know I enjoyed the cutaway shots of a much less than amused Trump, at his table, looking like he wished that incomparable mop of hair of his would just get it over with and finally swallow him whole.

But I think there was more to this than just a few good jokes to blow off some frustrated steam. Obama was ensuring that Trump will run for President, thereby ensuring the Republican search for a presidential candidate will be soaked in embarrassment. Let’s face it, the only place Trump would make a good presidential candidate might be on an episode of Family Guy. And even then he’d make Peter Griffin look like John F. Kennedy. Obama and the Democrats know it. They need to ensure that Trump will carry on his comical bid. So they played to his enormous, enormous ego, making sure to embarrass him in humiliating, public fashion. Because they know Trump will come back with atomic-level hubris. No way he takes this lying down. He’ll be absolutely certain that he can have the last laugh, by beating Obama in 2012. The pin has been pulled on the Trump grenade.

Not a bad weekend, Obama. 2 for 2. Destroy Bin Laden. Ensure Trump will do the same to the Republican primaries.

 

What’s That Orange Blur?

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“I am NOT amused”

 

I used to say that the NDP might as well change its name to the SOL, for all the hope it had of ever accomplishing anything at the federal level. But, the latest poll from EKOS is astounding. Really? 100 seats possible? Who’d have thought that, at this late stage of the race, the guy with the bum hip would be the one with the late kick?

Michael Ignatieff must be apoplectic. He’s been ambling along in second, mud flying in his face, trying to keep Stephen Harper’s haunches firmly in sight. (He’d probably have mixed emotions about that, as would we all.)

What’s he get for it? A wicked rap in the shins from Jack’s cane as Layton blows by him.

Now, this poll may be the fabled 20th out of 20 poll. You know, the one that AIN’T the “plus or minus 5 per cent, 19 times out of 20” poll. But if it foretells something incredible and historic, it’s very bad, indeed, for Michael Ignatieff. I won’t say that his leadership of the Liberals will have jumped the shark, necessarily. But I’d be damn sure that, somewhere, Henry Winkler was putting on his water skis.

Easter Weekend musings

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Let My People Tweet

Watching “The Ten Commandments” last night (Well, last night AND early this morning. It’s 3 hours and 40 minutes long WITHOUT commercials), my mind wandered just  a wee bit and I started to wonder how this epic tale might have been told in real-time, had Twitter been around. Specifically, the key moment which sees Moses and his flock pressed up against the Red Sea, the Egyptian army closing in:

@burningbush: Think we’re screwed. Red Sea in front, Ramses behind. Moses’ win streak ending.

Moments later:

@burningbush: Moses just turned his back. Raising hands. Is he surrendering?! Wussy, IMHO.

@burningbush: OMG! Game changer! Moses parting Red Sea! Anybody skyping this!? #winning

 Eggnatieff v. Hopper

Instead of some 300 million dollars worth of repetitive, hollow rhetoric, we could have settled our governmental squabble with a Parliament Hill Easter Egg Hunt. 308 eggs, 5 party leaders, NHL headshot rules in effect. Most eggs forms a government. Simple.

I’d normally like Jack Layton in such a contest. He’s savvy and scrappy. A competition like this could bring out the street fighter in him. But, with that hip continuing to slow him down, I couldn’t bet on him.

Michael Ignatieff? No chance. He’d waste much of his hunt time trying to launch a study group discussion on exactly how the rules should be interpreted. Maybe even write an essay, while eggs were gobbled up all around him.

Gilles Duceppe would not take part at all, instead sitting on the steps under the Peace Tower, complaining that the game is rigged against him.

Elizabeth May would not likely find a single egg. Despite being somewhat capable, she’d start too slowly, being quite astonished that she’d been invited to take part in the first place.

And then there’s Stephen. With Layton’s physical advantage compromised, I’d like his chances. And, if there’s anyone who knows how to manipulate the rules on Parliament Hill to their advantage, it’s the PM. A basketful for him. But be careful what you wish for, Mr. Harper. Those egg management fees can be a killer.

Funky Walker, Pious Talker

Sure, at times it looks a bit like “Mod Squad: The Musical.”

But I have to say, in all seriousness, that I think “Jesus Christ, Superstar” is a GREAT film.

Terrific songs, exceptionally talented actors and, let’s face it, one hell of a plot. So what if they ended it with the crucifixion, instead of the resurrection. They were probably thinking sequel.

He Is Risen And Everythink

Final word (sort of) to Donald S. Cherry, who, on Saturday night said (and I quote): “You can’t beat Jesus.”

So true. No lead is safe against him. He’s proven to be one of the best comeback artists of all time.