Rookie MP Guidebook Part 3: Behaviour in the House

The third installment in my behind-the-scenes look at a top-secret guidebook given to all 105 rookie MPs on Parliament Hill.

The House Of Commons: Those high ceilings make it tempting. But, please, no beach balls.

Today, some highlights from the guide’s rules of appropriate behaviour in the House of Commons:

As you first set foot in the House of Commons, you will notice the plush, green carpet under your feet. Please treat it with great care, as it is only steam-cleaned once per day (twice, if  Stephane Dion’s Parliament Hill Fight Club has met). Proper footwear is required at all times. Going barefoot is not allowed and has not been since Pierre Trudeau had the carpet replaced with a deep, luxurious shag, for one session in 1974.

When you take your seat, you will notice a few things: There are 3 headset jacks. One is for English translation, the second is for french translation and the third is hardwired into the Galaxie Music Network. Be careful not to get too involved in enjoying the music when the opposition is speaking as nodding your head to the beat may be falsely construed as you being in total agreement with the member. Those listening to the heavy metal channel are asked to refrain from smacking their heads on their desk. Again, this may be misconstrued as support for the member who has the floor.

The Speakers’ Chair is OFF-LIMITS. We do not believe we have to explain that any further. But in case it’s not clear, please refer to the “Inappropriate Behaviour” section, subsection: “After Hours Visitors”, sub-sub-section: “Maxime Bernier.”

“Mr. Speaker, this is an affront to all Canadians. My audio feed should have an all-Chilliwack channel.”

House of Commons Pages are there to assist you. They may relay messages, research precedent and refill water glasses. They may not “go for smokes,”  throw rose petals at your feet as you enter, or sit in for you “for this lame-ass vote on amendments to the Parks Canada procedural guide.”

At the request of the Prime Minister, trap doors have been installed under the seats of all MPs. They are connected to a switch at his desk. Do not be alarmed by a sudden free-fall out of the chamber. Stay calm, curl tightly into a ball and attempt to roll as you land. You will be greeted by a Party Whip, who will inform you as to your House re-admittance time, or escort you to the Parliamentary Library, where you will spend the rest of the session with a rag and a can of “Pledge.”

“Hear, hear,” accompanied by a pounding of your desktop is an acceptable utterance of agreement. “Eat it, Bee-atch!” accompanied by “Double-gunning” of “Devil’s hands” is not. NOTE: One exception to this rule is if John Baird makes a righteous smackdown of an opposition MP.

“Shame,” or  “outrageous” are acceptable forms of derision in the House. Giving “the raspberry” is not, unless you are in the front row, where your spittle will not affect the member seated directly in front of you, and can be effectively removed by the carpet cleaners that evening.

When the Speaker adjourns for the lunch session, leave in a calm, orderly fashion. Do not push or run. The shortage of fajitas in the Parliament Hill Cafeteria has been addressed. There will be plenty for all.

In answer to the most frequently asked question we’ve had from rookie MPs: Yes. When you rise for your first question, ever, in the House, you may take out your iphone and snap a self-portrait of yourself. Be aware, however, that Marc Garneau is quite adept at “photo bombing” new members at this moment.

Finally, no “tweeting” while you are in session, unless it is a blurb about official government business. “OMG, this place smells like old people! #boring” is not official government business.

Enjoy the House Of Commons. It’s like being in a class you really hate, but don’t even have to listen, because some nerd (CPAC) is taking notes for you.

[box type=”info” border=”full”]Previously: Handling The Media[/box]

 

Harper Cabinet Shuffle: Swedish for Common Sense Revolution

The Prime Minister’s cabinet retooling is complete. Funny how the loss of a key member or three (Lawrence Cannon, Josee Verner, Jean-Pierre Blackburn) can set up a really high stakes version of musical chairs. Sources say that’s EXACTLY how it happened, by the way, with Tory MPs gathered in a room with 39 chairs. They all circled them nervously, while the Prime Minister played Nick Lowe’s “Cruel To Be Kind” on the piano. When he stopped — Yahtzee! Maxime Bernier had successfully knocked Rob Moore to the ground, and taken his seat as Minister of State for Small Business and Tourism.

Maxime Bernier: “Hon, you haven’t seen the Allen key, have you?

It was Bernier who’d made musical chairs necessary in the first place. He’d bought the Prime Minister’s new cabinet at the IKEA outlet in Nepean last night, but forgot the instructions at his girlfriend’s house when he left in haste this morning. By the way, IKEA  has an excellent selection of parliamentary cabinets, including the popular “Sinterblok,” as well as the twin-cabinets, the “Deef” and “Bakker.” Prime Minister Harper was hoping for the high-end, well-appointed “Sennit,” but Tony Clement, who’d had a premonition he was going to be seated in the “President of the Treasury Board” chair, asked that the Prime Minister relent and settle for the cheapest cabinet available, the finely trimmed “Budjitt.”

But, back to musical chairs. Bev Oda never did get up from her seat and remains Minister For Term Paper Grading International Co-operation Minister. John Baird flexed his considerable muscles of diplomacy and convinced a harried Julian Fantino to “get the hell out of my seat, you glorified mall cop!” Fantino shifted his buns one seat over, to become Assistant Minister of Defence. Uh, Assistant to the Minister of Defence.

Among others to find chairs they’d already been seated in were Jim Flaherty (Finance) and Peter MacKay (Defence). They both hovered over the Finance Minister’s chair, but Flaherty’s newly re-soled budget shoes gave him the agility of Hines Ward to MacKay’s Ralph Macchio. (Proud to say, I had to look that last reference up)

Magnanimously, the PM glanced up from the piano and waited for a couple of Toronto-area MPs to hover over vacant seats, proving that, while he won’t dance to Toronto’s tune, Toronto can damn well stop dancing and sit when he commands.

All in all, a nice, big shiny cabinet. Apparently, it ties the record shared by Brian Mulroney and Paul Martin. Maybe on the next trip to IKEA, they can set the stage for a record membership, by buying the Deluxe “Kokkis.”