Of Angels and Assholes: A brief Consideration of Nelson Mandela vis-à-vis his Canadian Counterparts

Considering as how Nelson Mandela’s funeral has just taken place, and the fact that I’ve finished my annoying yet pleasantly unimaginative exams for the semester, I thought it was only appropriate that I say a few words about the late South African leader, mentioning his relevance to us youth of contemporary North America in the process. In doing so, I’ll hopefully make clear to the reader where I stand on his legacy as a rebel and leader. Whenever presented with such a cultural figure and his or her detractors, it is always incumbent upon a person to ask oneself who are the proverbial angels and who are the proverbial assholes.

Yes, I believe Mandela was definitely a little too friendly with terrorism-espousing tyrants like Muammar Gaddafi. I also admit that Mandela’s socioeconomic leanings were a little too socialist in nature for my taste. But I must also try and remember that this was/is a third-world African nation in which he rose to power. In such an environment, ideologies must be grasped and adopted as one sees fit. Sometimes injecting elements of Marxism is the only logical approach to countering the tyrannical powers that be. The same can be said for rubbing shoulders with murderous dictators. Ironically, such a pragmatic approach is in itself rather socially Darwinistic.

As for him having been a ‘terrorist’, I should think that ‘saboteur’ would be a more accurate descriptive term. To those self-righteous hypocrites who called him on it—including Margaret Thatcher initially and at least one Canadian Alliance / Conservative MP here in Canada, Rob Anders (who maintains his bigoted, faux self-righteous position to this day)—I say, how would you like a minority of imperialistic Europeans leaving you and your native brethren to wallow disenfranchised in a shantytown? I believe that an action is either right or wrong, ultimately. However, I also believe that one’s situation must factor into any sound moral judgement. Historically, Mr Mandela will be correctly remembered as a freedom fighter. Someone like Mr Anders can already be indubitably seen as an ignorant asshole.

Aside from his long, arduous struggle for freedom, and overhauling of South Africa in general from within, I believe what I liked most about Nelson Mandela was his 1994 proposal to lower his country’s voting age from 18 to 14. This grabs me as the most revolutionary, logical and insightful of his largely forgotten ‘minor’ policies. At a time when ignorant and oppressive politicians here in Canada were raising the legal age for the likes of smoking and quitting school, and calling for tougher restrictive laws surrounding adolescent sexuality, Nelson Mandela was taking an inclusive approach to his nation’s youth. This is something that us Canadian youth of today can truly learn from. Of course, Mandela was more or less forced to change his wise position on the matter, and the voting age remains at the oppressive minimum of 18 years in South Africa; but youth around the world can still cite Mandela’s proposal as a wise example in conducting their own protests and acts of civil disobedience. Here in Canada, disenfranchised youth might start by refusing to attend school if they are not allowed participation in the next federal election. If that doesn’t draw adequate media attention and instigate legislative change, then they might try abducting a non-sympathetic politician, FLQ-style. For the record, I can think of several Conservative and former Canadian Alliance MPs who deserve to be stuffed into the trunk of a car....

Given his overall track record and perpetually relevant revolutionary ideas, it is quite clear that President Nelson ‘Mediba’ Mandela was an invaluable asset to South Africa and exemplary figure for the ages; and ultimately redeemed himself of any faults—real or perceived—that he demonstrated in the first half of his life. Therefore, when comparing him to someone like Prime Minister Stephen Harper, I think it becomes pretty obvious who’s the angel and who’s the asshole.

For those who still participate in such dubious matters, try and have a powerfully festive holiday season, people....

They Eat Pussy in Toronto, Don't They?

As bogged down as what I am these days in trifling, if not truly challenging, course work, I cannot resist it any longer: I must make the time and punch out a few words about some of the juicy silliness occurring around me in recent weeks.

First of all, let me just say that I was pleased to learn that Lisa Moore—arguably the province’s worst state-endorsed writer—lost out to another overrated say-nothing author at this year’s meaningless Giller Prize award. But wait—things actually go from bad to worse to just plain silly on the national literary front: it appears some young woman from New Zealand—complete with a heavy kiwi accent—has won the Governor General’s Award and the Man Booker Prize for her work of fiction. Apparently, Eleanor Catton was born in Canada almost thirty years ago and never set foot in this country again until it came time to pick up the prize money for her novel... about New Zealand. Priceless! I’m not sure if this is a case of Canadian political correctness being taken to a whole new level or a wonderful comment on home-reared talent! Either way, it’s unequivocally yummy.

A few days ago, just as I was about to submit an essay for a certain website, a news story began breaking about “ten Quebec teens facing child porn charges” after electronically sharing sleazy photos of their girlfriends. How can this be, I thought?!! After all, according to those perverted Harper Conservatives who relish prying into the private lives of us youth, teenagers are still merely children—not old enough to vote, drink beer or consent to sex. How can such ‘youngsters’ be charged for breaking laws that are supposed to be there to protect them in the first place? I mean, at 13 to 15 years of age, they’re simply not old enough to even know what ‘dicks’ and ‘pussies’ are, are they? Myself, I didn’t menstruate or even sprout a pubic hair until the exact date of my 18th birthday. Having recently turned 19, my mother is now teaching me how to spell ‘tampon’. In other words, isn’t this just a teensy bit hypocritical? 

It doesn’t matter to me if you’re 13 or 31. Anyone foolish enough—or mature enough, depending on how one looks at it—to transmit nude or sexually explicit photos of one’s self is asking for trouble of some sort. No sympathy from me. Furthermore, ten boys from Laval, Quebec alone is quite a high percentage, relatively speaking. It’s safe to say that underage porn is now as ubiquitous as marijuana usage—among so-called children themselves! Try closing those flood gates, Stephen Harper.

Speaking of sex and youth, would someone mind telling me the real reason why a report on the sexual exploitation of children (whatever constitutes a child these days, I’m not sure) in the province—complete with recommendations yet—has been officially kept from Terra Nova eyes for some two years? Is it because the bureaucrats’ definition of ‘exploitation’ is so broad that the government fears too large a segment of the population would feel targeted, thus defeating the purpose by reinterpreting the study as the work of elitists? It wouldn’t surprise me, given the singularly dubious examples from the courts cited by the CBC in their television coverage of this story. Is it because the government fears that too many of its own—police officers, social workers, the politicians themselves—might be fingered as sexual miscreants? This wouldn’t surprise me either—especially considering some of my father’s accounts of questionable activity among St John’s cops and youth workers in the late 1980s.

During his first year or two of university, my father associated fairly regularly with rock ’n’ rollers, burgeoning writers, truant teenaged vagrants and other bohemian types in the downtown area (there were one or two pubs in particular at the time which catered to such collective circles), and according to him a particular RNC officer would pay unofficial visits to 14-year-old hookers in the Pleasant St. area, and certain assigned social workers were known to take the same girls out on pub crawls, “looking for men”. One young girl was even known to call on the said Constabulary cop at the station, complete with her trademark black leather mini-skirt and red shoes on.

My father’s favourite story of such government-employee uncouthness stems from one summer night in 1989, when him and two friends were driving in the downtown area. After pulling them over for running a red light (which they hadn’t), an RNC officer detected the obvious reek of beer and Scotch whiskey. Despite the driver being most likely impaired, the officer sent them on their way with a laugh, on the grounds that they were “just a couple of young fellers cruising about downtown, lookin’ for a bit o’ pussy”. That anecdote set the tone for the officers of the day.

As for the question I rhetorically pondered in an earlier blog post, as to whether or not the three disgraced senators will be spending eternity in Hell (at least on a theoretical level), it appears that the prime minister and his whipped and bullied senate have foregone the usual process employing St Peter and company, and decided their eternal fate for them. Yes, Victoria, there is a God and his name is Stephen Harper. So it appears Senators Duffy, Wallin and Brazeau have all been sentenced to eternal damnation—without senatorial pay for the remainder of the current parliamentary session to boot. Of the three banished senators, Pamela Wallin has been the most outspoken for some reason. Maybe she feels she has the most to lose. Whatever the case, it is needless to say that she is not a happy camper.

Their journalistic careers and legacies completely in tatters, Duffy and Wallin in particular have been forced to fall hard in hopes of appeasing the Canadian public and taking the heat off Stephen Harper. One can only hope that the dismissed Nigel Wright will finally open his gob and implicate the prime minister like he deserves. I mean, no one in his or her right mind actually believes that Harper wasn’t aware of such underhanded maneuvers—if not actually orchestrating them, do they? [Intriguingly, the CBC has been reporting these past few hours that the RCMP’s investigations indicate that Nigel Wright and Mike Duffy are seemingly guilty of criminal wrongdoing.  At the time of my writing, however, Dear Nigel still hasn’t pointed a finger at Harper.]

Speaking of underhanded maneuvers, you know, I can’t help but wonder if there weren’t some dark machinations at work in this whole senate scandal from the get-go. Not just in regards to the senators’ ill-gotten gains and fudging of the travel fund facts, but going right back to the appointments of media celebrities like Mike Duffy and Pamela Wallin in the first place. I’m sure the most paranoid of conspiracy theorists have thought so from day one—there have been distant rumblings; but undoubtedly some of the more levelheaded people out there have been thinking the same thoughts, if not choosing to voice them. Might Prime Minister Harper have been looking for a couple of celebrity dupes to bring attention to the Senate and its questionable continued existence when he appointed the likes of Duffy and Wallin? Could they have been picked to use as pawns in an intentionally induced scandal which would provide an excuse to open public debate on the Senate and ultimately lead to its abolition?  I can’t help but consider the possibility sometimes late at night when I’m sipping tea and digesting the TV news coverage.

Thanks in no small part to Toronto mayor Rob Ford and the media sensationalism of his shenanigans, the heat appears to be suddenly off the prime minister and his exploits, however.

Ah, Rob Ford. Mayor Rob Ford. Yes, he’s something of a sexist slob and a bit of a prurient homophobe, but there’s still something I admire about the jolly drunken fat-man in question. I think it’s his 1970s style, and his unwillingness to acquiesce to the ridiculous dogmas at either end of the political spectrum, Left or Right. Mayor Ford is an old-fashioned, no-nonsense, centre-focussed populist politician. This is unusual in the eyes of us so-called millennials and even Generation Xers, but it was actually the standard for western politicians only a half-century ago. Such a middle-ground stance is popular with neither of the two types who dominate all three levels of North American politics today. In other words, the usual far-right bunch despise him because he drinks and swears too much, doesn’t pray in public, and refrains from prying ambivalently into the romantic lives of gays and adolescents. Simultaneously, the usual far-left bunch despise him because he swills fast food as he pleases, doesn’t resort to silly euphemisms for fear of offending virgin ears, and refrains from paying symbolic lip service to the city’s gay community.

So exactly why do I increasingly like this (seemingly) outrageous man, you might ask? Well, in all honesty, I think it has far more to do with the asinine hypocrites who are unfairly dragging him over the coals than his asinine self.

Who the hell do these self-righteous Toronto city councillors and assholes in the media think they’re fooling, pretending to be offended—“Oh my God! the humanity!”—by his blunt and unaffected language?! (Read about it here.) Would they have us believe that they’ve never used such expressions as “eating pussy” before? Would they have us believe that their children have not yet encountered such slang? (If they’re aged ten or older and unfamiliar with expressions like “eating pussy”, I’d be a little concerned!) If they’re so morally incensed by such street talk, then why are they also so quick to celebrate the sexist, racist rantings of contemporary hip-hop acts and purchase such albums for their precious children? Mayor Ford can’t quote what some nosey nincompoop alleges he has said without being attacked by his faux-indignant fellow councillors, yet apparently it’s okay for his critics’ children to absorb lyrics like, “Yo, nigger bitch / Suck my cock”. Now, that’s unsettling.

And did anyone out there see that idiot from the CBC questioning the children and teens in Toronto, asking their opinions on the “bad influence” of Mayor Ford? I’m only 19 myself, so it was particularly disheartening and insulting to see this prig addressing young men and women in their teens as if they were toddlers, constantly referring to them as “kids”.

And with the exception of finance minister Jim Flaherty, his ‘friends’ in the federal Harper government have done a really good job of ignoring him, haven’t they! Now why doesn’t this surprise me! Stephen Harper is such a prick, in fact, that he’s managed to twist his response to the uproar into an attack on Justin Trudeau’s grass smoking!

Speaking of Justin Trudeau, isn’t it just a tad bit hypocritical, the way in which his supporters tend to play down his admitted marijuana use while condemning Mayor Ford for his crack-pipe puffing? I’m betting that if Fat Robbie knocked off substantial poundage and got himself a hair transplant and dye job, it would result in a considerably better showing in the polls. It’s all about image and phoney mystique, people. The shallow among us love their star quarterbacks from the college football team—even when they hire ringers for exams and participate in drunken belching contests. In other words, Mayor Ford needs to get back to his roots and stop being an adult.

I think what I like most about Rob Ford is his ability to upset the elitist status quo of precious latte-slurping Toronto. I’ve never lived in Toronto, but I’ve touched down there briefly on my journeys abroad. From my perspective, contemporary Toronto is all visage: a politically correct paradise as envisioned and devised by a minority of far-left lobbyists and their asinine operatives on city council. These ‘movers and shakers’ (Ha!), it seems, represent the beliefs and ideals of only fifteen to twenty percent of the city’s population at most. Over time, the alienated majority have become increasingly silent and apathetic. (My mother insists that it’s been this way for the past two decades or so. An older Torontonian cousin of mine assures me that today’s Toronto has very little in common with the Toronto of the 1960s, ’70s and much of the ’80s.) As the mayor has pointed out, the majority of Toronto’s population—including many of his fellow councillors—have at some time or another partaken of illicit drugs, committed adultery, driven drunk, etc. This is something his opposing councillors and other critics would deny until they’re blue in the face. Rob Ford provides an excellent opportunity for such phoney critics to condemn the sins they’ve secretly loved to act. And like the stake-burnings and lynchings of old, attacks on him draw attention away from the attackers and their own ‘transgressions’. So if his questionable behaviour tarnishes or completely obliterates Toronto’s false image, then I hope Mayor Ford stays put until the entire world sees plastic Toronto as the silliest place on the planet.

Of course, a non-seceding Mayor Ford will also mean a politically castrated Mayor Ford now that much of his power has been dubiously appropriated. In fact, as I write this, Toronto Deputy Mayor Norm Kelly is talking with CTV reporters on television, showing off his newly stolen administrative powers. The usurping imposter looks like a smug son of a bitch—and no doubt a typically inefficient do-nothing schmuck. I hope the Fords are already digging for dirt on him. If you’ve seen him buying illicit drugs, driving drunk or nailing hookers, please get in touch with the elected mayor’s office.

As for those councillors who turn their backs to the mayor, well, I guess they simply want to get fucked in the ass or something.

Lately I’ve been thinking: you know, it was this Mohamed Farah character—whose motives, judging from his comments to the CBC, are vague at best—who started this whole media feeding frenzy, when he showed an iphone video of the mayor smoking crack to the sniffer-dawgs from Gawker, who in turn futilely raised money online to buy said video. This gives me radical ideas....

Why don’t we attempt to set up a fund—through Gawker, Kickstarter or some other site—to raise money to offer as rewards to those people out there who can provide us damning information on the dubious behaviour, past and present, of our ‘favourite’ self-righteous Conservative politicians who interfere legislatively with our private lives? The financially fraudulent Mike Duffys and the cocaine- and alcohol-impaired Rahim Jaffers are just the tip of the Tory iceberg, I suspect. Think about it: photos of the prime minister smoking grass thirty years ago... wife-beating back-benchers who are “hands-on” in teaching their daughters the facts of life... a former minister of justice up to his nuts in some heroin-addled underaged hooker named Baby Lips....

Hmmmm... Yummy!

I think I’m going to mosey on over to Gawker and maybe have a little chat. Let’s get this show on the road, people!

For a Lack of Rope and Coal Oil: My Take on MUN’s Anti-smoking Policies and what they tell us about their Implementers

It’s somewhat reassuring to know that most of MUN’s tobacco puffers are choosing to ignore the nefarious campus-wide smoking ban, and exercising their human right to defy sheer bigotry.  It pleases me to know that some people still value the freedoms for which past generations laid down their lives in trenches and on beaches.

Just recently, the CBC’s Here & Now—digging for dirt on what was obviously a slow news day—reported that the smoking ban is obviously not working; that the policy simply isn’t being enforced.  I guess that makes it official.  It isn’t gospel until the local wing of Canada’s middlebrow broadcaster confirms it as so.

According to the CBC’s report, it appears to be business as usual with tobacco on campus.  This is in keeping with my father’s assertion that most students and employees continued to smoke wherever they chose following the implementation of various anti-smoking policies throughout the late 1980s and 1990s.  In fact, my father insists that the only occasion he was ever badgered for smoking was one time in the Breezeway bar when he and some friends lit up during the wrong hours.  How utterly ironic!  To think that a drinking hole would be the primary focus of a smoking ban!  Maybe they should have lit up in the campus chapel.

Of course, Father and his friends later identified the Breezeway employee’s car and flattened all four of his tires.  Daddy was never one to suffer fools and oppression.  In subsequent years, whenever visiting the campus for research purposes, the only area in which he refrained from smoking was the QE II Library.

In fact, my father is now wondering how come smokers and sympathetic fellow students haven’t been having organized “smoke-ins” and maybe spray-painting a few walls and windows with suitable graffiti.  Both he and Mother (a non-smoker) have developed a great disdain for MUN’s governing body in light of such recent policy changes.  Needless to say, I wouldn’t advise touching them up for alumni donations.

To reiterate a Facebook comment of mine that also appeared on the NTV website:

“I’m afraid I may have to go begging for a student loan or find a wealthy benefactor if I want to continue at Memorial. For some time now, my parents have been threatening to pull me out of university on the grounds that it’s become a “playpen” for “overgrown infants”, and has more to do with contemporary dogmas and pointless vanity than what it does actual education. I fear this may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. My parents insist that universities are places where professors and students sit around ashtrays, debating historical theories and philosophical positions. Anti-smoking policies, they say, have virtually nothing to do with health concerns, and are merely vain, elitist machinations that insure discrimination and subservience—on par with the ‘jim crow’ sections of old. I’m a non-smoker, but I’m inclined to agree with them. I have a feeling my second semester at MUN will prove to be my last.”

Thankfully, things worked out for me; my parents came through with the filthy lucre and I’m now back in class.  But that doesn’t change the situation on campus.  The powers that be are still targeting a minority based on subjugation desires disguised as health concerns.

In the context of the Here & Now ‘story’, MUN director of Health and Safety Sheila Miller was heard to state that Memorial is offering various stop-smoking programs as a means of accommodating the ban.

What makes Ms Miller think that all smokers want to accommodate her petty grievances and quit smoking?  In another lifetime, would Ms Miller have been trying to persuade African Americans to change their skin colour?  Like tobacco, African Americans were said to be non-hygienic and a threat to community health.  Would Ms Miller or others of her annoying ilk be willing to stop driving to accommodate my pet peeves, er, health concerns?  After all, I don’t drive, so why should I have to tolerate Ms Miller’s noisy motor and polluting tailpipe? 

Ms Miller would have us believe that she’s a veritable bastion of health concerns.  Yeah, right!   Because we all know that health fanatics like to carry that much weight around!  Maybe she should consider living up to her own title, and try knocking off a few pounds.  Judging from photos of her, Ms Miller looks about as health conscious as a sewer rat in a garbage dumpster.  Talk about an arrogant old hypocrite.  

To market, to market: MUN director Sheila Miller would have us believe she’s the epitome of Health and Safety 

And if MUN starts enforcing this bigoted policy, what’s ultimately going to happen?  The smokers will start walking off campus and gathering in hordes on street corners in the area—until one of them gets struck by oncoming traffic.  Then, quite rightfully, the lawsuits will start pouring in.  I guess the desire for subjugation trumps logic—even in university matters.  Does anyone remember segregated colleges in the Deep South?

To waken people up to the truth, MUN smokers might consider copying the image below and posting it on doors, windows and billboards around campus:

In lieu of poster campaigns, another alternative to risking life and limb on the off-campus curb would be heading over to Ms Miller’s office for a smoke—anytime day or night.  It would also be easy to obtain the home addresses of advocates of smoker ostracism among MUN’s ruling elites.  Maybe all smokers out there should think about dropping by such properties for a cigarette every now and then.

So there you have it—my take on the ridiculous smoking ban and its dubious origins. I’ll conclude by saying that I certainly don’t wish to advocate smoking.  However, infringements on personal freedom can often be just as scary as any threats to one’s health.  

That’s not so yummy.  Try and have a nice day....

Ra Ra Rape! Saint Mary’s University Students Eagerly Awaiting Puberty!

Sis Boom Bah Humbug?

As anyone who’s watched the ‘frosh week’ video out of Saint Mary’s University in Nova Scotia should know by now, Y doesn’t always stand for a generation or the female genitalia. (Read the CBC's coverage here.)

No one should be surprised that the gang at Saint Mary’s like ’em ‘YOUNG’. The far-left and far-right policies adopted and legislated by our federal, provincial and even municipal governments over the past two decades or so have actually created this situation. So if the people in high places are shocked by rally chants promoting the sexual assault of minors, well, what in the name of Rehtaeh Parsons’s sleazy teenage tattoos did they expect?

Let me elaborate a little....

This incident can be easily interpreted as a quasi-reactionary statement. When lobbyists, governments and other ruling bodies prolong puberty via an illogically increased age of sexual consent, tobacco and alcohol restrictions, antiquated drug laws, etc, it is only reasonable to expect those effected to react accordingly. No one with an ounce of intelligence should have been shocked by this display, ridiculous as it was. What people are seeing is the behaviour that was once associated with 11- to 13-year olds being made manifest in those 17 to 23. When you whack the mole over the head, it merely pops up somewhere else.

Because of the prolonged childhood that is being mandated and legislated, college campuses and many high schools are becoming veritable pressure cookers—powder kegs of rage, booze, porno, libido and tobacco, just waiting to blow open. And then they wonder why school shootings have become such an indelible reality.

It’s interesting that the participants should reference sexual assault and underage girls in the same context, for the latter can actually be the cure for the former in some cases, so to speak. On a personal note, from about the age of 12 onward, my parents refused to let me date anyone who wasn’t an intelligent, respectable older student. They feared that the young boys my age were becoming simply too uncivilized and sexually violent, owing mainly to the aforementioned restrictions upon youth. Now I’m an 18-year-old young woman in my third semester at Memorial University, and I regret to announce that the prurience and sexual aggression are no longer exclusive to the high-school age level (or American campuses!). As I mentioned a few months ago on this blog, the campus is now crawling with ball-cap-wearing savages who think with their willies, and tattooed airheads who will acquiesce to any unwanted advances simply in order to look ‘cool’ and maintain their popularity status. Illegal or not, I wouldn’t be caught dead down in the campus tunnels at night without my revolver in my handbag.

Oh, the sheer poetry!  Cohen and Dylan must be jealous

And now the CBC are reporting that the president of the Saint Mary’s student union is apologizing and resigning as a result of this incident. Well, shame on him for caving in to hypocritical pressure! Unless he’s going back to sixth grade where him and his kind rightfully belong, Mr Jared Perry should indeed stay on in his office. We need him to remind us of just how wrong the policies of the past quarter-century have been. According to the same CBC news report, two other student leaders are facing “disciplinary action” as well. It’s lobbyists like the Canada Family Action Coalition (CFAC) and politicians like Stephen Harper who should be apologizing and facing disciplinary action. They’ve helped create such cretins and shaped their reactionary attitudes.

As for the actual chant/song, my mother insists it’s only slightly more offensive than some of the official filth she was expected to recite and sing when she was a member of the Air and Sea Cadets back in the ’80s.

Typical.

Clearing The Air with Smokescreens: My Thoughts on the Conservatives’ Condemnation of Justin Trudeau’s Pot Admission

“Adore me, fellow Canadians! I am your Saviour, the Son of Pierre, and now devoted beatnik pot smoker!”
(Image stolen from The Star)

Now let me make it clear from the start: I am no major fan of Justin Trudeau. In fact, I consider him to be rather goofy and Americanized in all the wrong ways. Like his father before him, he tends to ride on a crest of charisma rather than an agenda of well-defined policies. (Of course, this can be said of the federal Liberals in general in recent decades.) True, either Trudeau would be slightly less embarrassing to have in office than a Stephen Harper or a Kim Campbell; but Dear saintly Justin has never struck me as anyone ideologically sound or sociopolitically astute.

Having said that, I consider his recent admission of illicit marijuana use to be as refreshingly bold and honest as what it is pragmatically foolish. So when the likes of Peter MacKay says that Trudeau is setting “a poor example for Canadians, particularly young ones”, I take it as an indirect insult. Here’s the comment I left in the wake of the story at CBC.ca:

“Peter McKay says that Justin Trudeau is setting a bad example for the youth of this country. That’s really rich coming from the new justice minister! Mr McKay’s party hasn’t been setting any sort of example at all for us young people of Canada—the Conservatives have been too busy attempting to jail and subjugate us with hideous new sex, drug, and internet downloading legislation. On top of that, we still can’t vote for the oppressive jerks who write the laws until we're 18!

“I know my history: Never has there been a government in Canada which has displayed such animosity towards the nation’s youth. I’ve turned 18 within the last year, and I can’t wait for the next federal election so I can help vote such bigoted scum out of office. I’m not a cannabis user, nor am I a particularly big fan of the Liberal Party, but give me Mr Trudeau any day over the anachronistic old duffers that currently rule over us.”

Wow!  Isn't he ‘grunge’!

Obviously, judging from the old photo that Rick Mercer posted to Twitter, Mr MacKay has not always been an exemplary pillar of sobriety and restraint for us youth of the nation. Of course, the argument has also been made—by former Reform/Alliance MP Stockwell Day, and others who regret their prolonged virginity and think the world is 15,000 years old—that Mr MacKay was doing nothing illegal by ‘bonging’ booze. That’s very true; but the same can be said of 18-year-old porn stars who ejaculate and urinate over each other’s mouth and face. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s hiding hypocrisy behind a wall of convenient legalities.

Occasionally, a story of Conservative indiscretion will break like a bubble to the surface. Accounts of Rahim Jaffer and his cocaine and drunk-driving charges, Maxime Bernier’s open briefcase and dubious biker-girlfriend, and—in the halcyon days of Reform/Alliance goodness—Jack Ramsay’s sexual assault of a Cree teen while serving as an RCMP officer in the late ’60s should immediately come to mind. A veneer of white-picket fences, ankle-length skirts and Sunday roast-beef dinners is maintained, nevertheless. The transgressors are passed off as regrettable yet inexplicable anomalies—like flash floods and unruly sasquatches. Still, when it comes to matters of drugs, sex and corruption, one cannot help but surmise that there’s so much more going on behind the scenes, behind closed doors. Methinks the horny, drunken old white man doth protest too much.

So how do we expose these perceived/closet perpetrators? What I propose we do is offer monetary rewards in exchange for any tip that leads to a criminal investigation of a Conservative MP or any of their associates, past or present. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. If Harper Conservatives like former MP Vic Toews can envision instigating quasi witch hunts with his proposed internet surveillance scheme, then we can do the same. I wonder if we could launch such a project through Kickstarter or a similar website. The desire to see Toronto mayor Rob Ford smoking crack brought in close to two-hundred grand at Gawker, keep in mind. We could even raise money by selling gag t-shirts emblazoned with, “I’m a Proud Canadian—of course I’m with the Child Pornographers!”

To quote Public Enemy, let’s get it on.

Keep on toking, Mr Trudeau. Keep on dreaming about your 11-year-old daughters and granddaughters naked on a desert island, Harper Conservatives.  

To Emancipate or Eradicate: John Baird vs REAL Women of Canada

Don’t you just love the way the right-wing fundamentalist hypocrites are starting to shoot each other in the foot! Yes, the rattlesnakes are committing suicide again!

The latest embarrassment to the Christian Right comes in the form of comments made by members of “pro-family” lobby group REAL Women of Canada. It appears the Harper Conservatives are simply no longer conservative enough to please such fundamentalist Christian women who put them in power in the first place [read the CBC’s coverage of the story here]. In a recent press release REAL Women National Vice-President Gwendolyn Landolt stated:

“Just who does John Baird think he is, using taxpayers’ money to promote his own personal agenda and endeavouring to set standards of the laws of foreign countries? He argues that homosexual rights are a ‘Canadian value’, but this applies only to himself and his fellow activists and the left-wing elitists. These are not conservative values and that of grass roots Canadians, who after all, pay the bulk of the taxes.” [Read the entire rubbish rant right here]

Ms ’dolt’s comment comes in the wake of Foreign Affairs Minister John Baird’s condemnation of recently enacted anti-homosexual laws in countries such as Russia and Uganda.

Apparently, it’s okay for these nosey ol’ bigots out in Alberta to criticize countries based on legalized prostitution, abortion, or a ‘low’ age of consent, but when one of their favourite right-wing politicians speaks out against gay-based persecution in Russia, Uganda, etc, they go ballistic, saying he’s interfering in the policies of a sovereign country. Find out their addresses, and then send these creepy bigots loads of feces and litres of urine! (Apparently, some good citizens of Canada has already made a practice of doing this! All I can say is, Bravo! It is highly commendable of you.)

If one would like to discover more about the antiquated policies of these national embarrassments, then please visit their official website.  You’ve been warned....

The only policy of these meddling old bats that comes close to being logical is their stand against no-fault divorce, Sadly, they castigate Canada’s commie divorce laws for all the wrong reasons and from a male perspective. (These REAL women often strike me as being peculiarly ‘closet transsexual’ in their outlook.) Personally, if some lazy, penniless bastard ever tried to take fifty percent of any sizable nest egg that I may have hard-earned or rightly inherited, he’d soon be pushing up nettles in a lovely gravel-pit graveyard.  As long as there is no-fault divorce, justifiable homicide will remain a reality.  Support your local hit-man.  

It is also worth noting that REAL Women of Canada have a history of alleged associations with white supremacist groups. According to the Anti-Racist Canada blog, one of the lobby group’s former directors, Rita Ann Hartmann, led the Ottawa-based Northern Foundation. Also, Hartmann’s husband was a leader of the Ku Klux Klan and Western Guard; the couple’s sons were members of the neo-Nazi Heritage Front. One can read about this in more detail at the aforementioned blog.

As for John Baird, I guess it’s also worth mentioning in this context that rumours have been circulating for some time now that the Conservative minister is secretly gay himself. Hmm... I smell scandal.  Yummy.

Screw Jian Ghomeshi and the CBC: The REAL 100 Greatest Canadian Albums Ever

I’ve been wondering how many of you out there must feel completely unsatisfied after enduring recent summer events like the St. John’s George Street Festival, with its overpriced parade of musical has-beens, like the perpetually hokey Barenaked Ladies. For those of you who have been wasting time and money lately on such second- and third-rate entertainment, I suggest you check out this new list I’ve constructed, compiling the 100 greatest Canadian music albums of all time. It should give you some ideas how you can better spend your time and money.

Of course, if you’re thinking that this list comes as a reaction to the CBC’s recently compiled 100 Greatest Canadian Albums Ever, then you’re paying attention. Frankly, I thought that list to be hopelessly generic and lacking in historical knowledge. (Can you take such compilers seriously when they don’t include a single album by Rough Trade—the homegrown urban band of the late ’70s and early ’80s?) It reeks of Jian Ghomeshi and other arrogant people who don’t deserve the opportunity to perform analingus on my 18-year-old bumhole.

About the list. Needless to say, one won’t find any politically safe, culturally stagnant tripe like the Rheostatics or Barenaked Ladies on my list. Nor will one find those bands and artists who set up camp in California, New York or London decades ago, and have seldom even mentioned their home country in their song lyrics from that time forward. Many of these artists rarely return to Canada—unless, of course, it’s to collect some lifetime achievement award or make disparaging remarks about Jim Morrison and men in general for the benefit of smug Jian Ghomeshi and his unbearable talk show on the CBC. Hence my exclusion of Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Pat Travers, The Lucy Show, etc. (And who in their right mind considered The Band a Canadian act in the first place? I mean, we all know that ‘The Night they Drove Old Dixie Down’ is all about Canada, right?) I have also excluded ‘big names’ like Bryan Adams and Celine Dion, who seem to have made the CBC’s list (as well as others) based merely on sales figures. (Don’t the CBC realize that the majority of the Earth’s population live in blissful ignorance?) I have reached back far enough to include early Canadian country-folk artists like Stu Davis and Wilf ‘Montana Slim’ Carter, and have compensated for the elitist snobbery of the CBC by embracing Canada’s great libertarian populist, Stompin’ Tom Connors. I’ve even included at least one ‘gag’ entry as a sort of subtle comment on those teenyboppers who like to re-envision themselves as serious artistes when more alternative styles of music come into vogue. The result is a list that accommodates the obvious while avoiding the generic:

1. Glen Gould, (J. S. Bach) The Goldberg Variations (1955)
2. The Oscar Peterson Trio, at the Stratford Shakespearean Festival (1956)
3. Moe Koffman, Cool and Hot Sax (1957)
4. The Oscar Peterson Trio, On the Town with the Oscar Peterson Trio (1958)
5. Stu Davis, Rope Around the Sun (1959)
6. Wilf Carter, Reminiscin’ with Montana Slim (1962)
7. The Oscar Peterson Trio, Night Train (1962)
8. Two Tones (Gordon Lightfoot and David Whelan), Two Tones at the Village Corner (1962)
9. Ian & Sylvia, Four Strong Winds (1963)
10. Wilf Carter, Nuggets of the Golden West (1964)
11. The Oscar Peterson Trio, Canadiana Suite (1964)
12. Buffy Sainte Marie, It’s My Way! (1964)
13. Glen Gould, (Oskar Morawetz, István Anhalt, Jacques Hétu) Canadian Music in the 20th Century (1967)
14. Leonard Cohen, Songs of Leonard Cohen (1967)
15. Gordon Lightfoot, Did She Mention My Name? (1968)
16. The Collectors, The Collectors (1968)
17. 3’s a Crowd, Christopher’s Movie Matinee (1968)
18. Anne Murray, What About Me (1968)
19. The Kensington Market, Avenue Road (1968)
20. Stompin’ Tom Connors, Sings Bud the Spud and Other Favourites (1969)
21. The Guess Who, Canned Wheat (1969)
22. The Poppy Family featuring Susan Jacks, Which Way You Goin’ Billy? (1969)
23. It’s All Meat, It’s All Meat (1970)
24. Great Speckled Bird, Great Speckled Bird (1970)
25. Buffy Saint Marie, Illuminations (1971)
26. Offenbach, Offenbach Soap Opera (1971)
27. Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Not Fragile (1973)
28. April Wine, Stand Back (1975)
29. Rush, Fly By Night (1975)
30. Mahogany Rush, IV (1976)
31. Stan Rogers, Fogarty’s Cove (1976)
32. Harmonium, L’Heptade (1976)
33. Rush, A Farewell to Kings (1977)
34. Max Webster, High Class in Borrowed Shoes (1977)
35. Goddo, Who Cares (1977)
36. Ironhorse, Ironhorse (1978)
37. Triumph, Just A Game (1978)
38. Minglewood Band, Minglewood Band (1979)
39. Teenage Head, Teenage Head (1979)
40. The Diodes, Released (1979)
41. Bruce Cockburn, Dancing in the Dragon’s Jaws (1979)
42. Da Slyme, Da Slyme (1980)
43. D.O.A., Something Better Change (1980)
44. Dutch Mason Blues Band, Special Brew (1980)
45. Rough Trade, Avoid Freud (1980)
46. The Canadian Brass, The Village Band (1981)
47. Rough Trade, (for those who think young) (1981)
48. Saga, Worlds Apart (1981)
49. Rush, Moving Pictures (1981)
50. Streetheart, Streetheart (1982)
51. Rush, Signals (1982)
52. Men Without Hats, Rhythm of Youth (1982)
53. Glen Gould, (Bach) The Goldberg Variations (1982)
54. Figgy Duff, After the Tempest (1983)
55. David Wilcox, My Eyes Keep Me in Trouble (1983)
56. The Parachute Club, The Parachute Club (1983)
57. Anvil, Forged in Fire (1983)
58. 20th Century Rebels, Rebelution (1983)
59. Leonard Cohen, Various Positions (1984)
60. Bruce Cockburn, Stealing Fire (1984)
61. Asexuals, Be What You Want (1985)
62. Dayglo Abortions, Feed US.A Fetus America (1986)
63. 54-40, 54-40 (1986)
64. The Shuffle Demons, Streetniks (1986)
65. Chalk Circle, Mending Wall (1987)
66. Northern Pikes, Big Blue Sky (1987)
67. Voivod, Killing Technology (1987)
68. Leonard Cohen, I’m Your Man (1988)
69. Plasterscene Replicas, Glow (1988)
70. Sons of Freedom, Sons of Freedom (1988)
71. Skinny Puppy, VIVIsect VI (1988)
72. Art Bergmann, Crawl With Me (1988)
73. NoMeansNo, Small Parts Isolated and Destroyed (1988)
74. Stompin’ Tom Connors, Fiddle and Song (1988)
75. The Pursuit of Happiness, Love Junk (1988)
76. The Cowboy Junkies, The Trinity Session (1989)
77. Daniel Lanois, Acadie (1989)
78. K. D. Lang and The Reclines, Absolute Torch and Twang (1989)
79. Maestro Fresh-Wes, Symphony in Effect (1989)
80. The Grapes of Wrath, Now and Again (1989)
81. Skydiggers, Skydiggers (1990)
82. Alanis, Alanis (1991)
83. Dream Warriors, And Now the Legacy begins (1991)
84. Sloan, Smeared (1992)
85. The Tragically Hip, Fully Completely (1992)
86. Bachman, Any Road (1992)
87. Doughboys, Crush (1993)
88. Eric’s Trip, Love Tara (1993)
89. Vic Vogel, Piano Solo (1993)
90. Sloan, Twice Removed (1994)
91. Glueleg, Heroic Doses (1994)
92. Jale, Dreamcake (1994)
93. Lenny Breau / Dave Young, Live at Bourbon St. (1995)
94. The Hardship Post, Somebody Spoke (1995)
95. Eric’s Trip, Purple Blue (1996)
96. The Tragically Hip, Trouble at the Henhouse (1996)
97. The Monoxides, Galaxy of Stooges (1997)
98. Sarah McLachlan, Surfacing (1997)
99. Sloan, Never Hear the End of It (2006)
100. Danko Jones, Rock and Roll is Black and Blue (2012)

So there you have it. The real 100 greatest Canadian albums ever—as compiled by a young woman still in her teens. Please tell me what you think. I love it when people share their piss and vinegar, er, opinions with me—especially when they’re deliciously ill-informed.   Hmm... yummy.

Morgentaler enjoying Heaven, Mike Duffy awaiting Hell: How some public figures deserve to spend 'Eternity'

Hello again, fellow culture lovers; it’s been a while. Some of you are probably wondering where I’ve been these past few months. Well, I merely decided to take the so-called Spring semester off; so I’ve been spending the summer catching up on my reading, writing a few essays for the underground journals, and following the recent political scandals in Ottawa, Toronto and elsewhere in the country. Mike Duffy... Pamela Wallin... Rob Ford.... Hmmm... yummy.

Given the ‘occupational suicides’ and retirements of a number of these public figures, along with the recent death of a prominent doctor, I thought this might be an appropriate time to discuss their future spiritual status in eternity.

Now let me make it clear from the start that I am an agnostic. In other words, I don’t believe the existence of a god or an afterlife can be proven positively or negatively at this point in history. Such a task is a scientific dead-end (no pun intended). Having said that, it brings me great pleasure to play God and make educated guesses in regards to their post-life whereabouts. It sends a message to those amongst them who are actual believers. I think more people should make a public practice of this. After all, most of these politicians, doctors and other public figures love to play God with our lives now, don’t they....

Dr Morgentaler, Angel

Let’s start with legendary abortion provider, Dr Henry Morgentaler. For decades, he fought for Canadian females’ right to choose, and subsequently brought an end to Canada’s antiquated abortion laws. Sadly, Dr Morgentaler passed away just recently, aged 90. I guess one could make a fairly reasonable argument that his desire to abort (reportedly) tens of thousands of foetuses was merely a psychological reaction to his losing both parents and his sister to the Nazis in Poland. However, regardless of his modus operandi—psychological revenge, female rights, sheer profit—it’s safe to say that he provided more of a service than an obstruction, ultimately. So I think it’s safe to say that Dr Morgentaler is snuggled safely in Heaven—probably discussing the dilemma of omnipotence vs altruism with the supreme deity.

Mike Duffy toasting his newfound political opportunities and the end of his journalistic integrity

Speaking of the deceased, former journalist Mike Duffy recently completed his slow occupational suicide, which he began some four years ago when he accepted a senatorial appointment from the Harper Government. It appears Senator Duffy liked to claim expenses as a PEI resident while actually residing in Ontario. When his expense claims—along with those of three other senators—were being investigated by the Senate Committee on Internal Economy, he applied for a PEI health card and requested that the process be fast-tracked in time for the audit deadline! The news media now hot on his heels, Duffy was soon hiding from his old CTV buddies in places like hotel kitchens (where else?). In light of all the negative press, Duffy soon agreed to pay back the ill-gotten monies, but refused to accept responsibility for fraud on the grounds that the Senate rules and forms were not clear. In fact, he even expected the Prime Minister’s Office to pick up the tab! Soon the PMO’s Chief of Staff, Nigel Wright, was writing a personal cheque of $90,172 to cover ol’ Duff’s restitutionary damages. Needless to say, this sort of action was completely against the rules. Subsequently, Nigel Wright resigned as Chief of Staff, and is being investigated by the Office of the Conflict of Interest and Ethics Commissioner of Canada. As for dear ol’ Duffy, he resigned from the Senate Conservative caucus and is being investigated by the RCMP. (Maybe his son can help in the investigations; he’s a Mountie, apparently.)

So what does all this amount to? Fat Mikey is essentially dead and gone as a journalist (and politician) before he even gives up the ghost! No journalistic immortality or political legacy for Greedy-Guts Duffy! Yes, it’s truly astonishing what some ignorant ol’ duffers will sacrifice in order to save a few dollars. As a result, Hell’s barbecue pit is being prepared for Duffy. Ol’ Blubber-Guts won’t be chowing down this time around, however. This time, it’s his soul that’s the main course—for eternity.

The demon who is waiting to devour Mike Duffy

It may be a similar story for Pamela Wallin, another journalist who has committed occupational suicide after accepting a senatorial appointment and subsequently claiming dubious travel expenses. As Rex Murphy has pointed out, however, Ms Wallin did not go into denial-and-conspire mode á la Mr Duffy. Instead, she owned up, paid back the fraud sum, and subsequently resigned Senate Conservative caucus. Considering the fact that Ms Wallin built a sizable portion of her journalistic reputation on her time spent at the less Harper-friendly CBC, it is possible that her legacy might not suffer like that of CTV stooge Duffy. In other words, it looks like it’s purgatory for Wallin upon her death.

Is this the face of a woman we can trust?

The soul of Toronto mayor Rob Ford, on the other hand, is being protected from an eternity of hellfire, owing mainly to a combination of his low-mindedness and the benefit of the doubt. The Lord takes pity on the stupid and addicted, apparently. Actually, Ford appears to have good intentions in many regards, and has exhibited some of the better characteristics of old-fashioned, no-nonsense right-wing politicians. But he also has a reputation for drug and alcohol excess; so when word got out this spring that a video of him smoking crack cocaine from a glass pipe had surfaced, and that the Gawker website was attempting to raise the asking price of $200,000 in order to obtain it and air it publicly, most of us who gave a damn weren’t surprised at all.

Of course Ford immediately went into denial mode, and was soon dismissing the media (as usual) and ditching members of his staff left, right and centre. The police, it turns out, had been investigating the alleged video before the media had even broke the story. As part of a raid on two rival drug gangs, they also searched the home of Muhammad Khattak, one of the men standing with Ford affront an alleged crackhouse in a photo supplied to Gawker and the Toronto Star. The alleged crackhouse, the story goes, is the residence of a friend of Ford’s from their high-school days. As well, another man in the photo, one Anthony Smith, was killed in a Toronto street-shooting back in March. Lovely. On top of all this, the seller of the alleged video has fallen silent, and the money raised by Gawker has been subsequently donated to various charities.

Mayor Ford, hanging with his homies

Did Mayor Ford find enough money and brains to purchase the video himself? Did the video even exist in the first place? Questions, questions. Personally, I couldn’t care less how much crack Rob Ford smokes in his spare time, provided he doesn’t come across as a hypocrite by introducing policies to “crack down” on illicit drugs. So, for now at least, Mayor Porky is safe from Hell’s flames by virtue of his dumbness, police ineptness, and sheer luck.

Vic Toews: The face of pure evil

Finally, let us examine the case of former Justice and Public Safety minister, Vic Toews, who resigned from politics earlier this month to spend more time with his excuse for a family (pity his ‘family’, I’d say!). I think this sack of shit is an open and shut case, frankly. This is the ignorant, evil man who said that Canadians are either with the Conservative Party or with the child pornographers (What’s the difference?). This is the man who was in favour of internet surveillance, reflecting a view that all Canadians are terrorists and child abductors. This is the man who raised the age of consent from 14 to 16 while actually getting tougher on adolescent crime. (If you’re old enough to get charged with a crime, then you’re also old enough to vote, drink booze and screw.) As a result, Toews should be a particular target of hatred for teenagers like myself. It’s obvious this man deserves to spend eternity with a hot poker up his rectum. Toews is now 60 years of age, so Satan is no doubt preparing a deep hot pit for him, while the demons are drooling to gnaw his legs off. In the meantime, I hope young people across Canada terrorize him on a nightly basis, and his young son grows up to despise him and disown him. This creep deserves to never have another good night’s sleep, and then be sentenced to spend eternity screaming out in pain from the very bowels of Hell. Good riddance to evil swine!

The demon who awaits Vic Toews’s passing...

Anyway, that’s my take on such eternal matters and how they reflect on Canadian public figures. I hope everyone’s enjoying the summer—everyone who deserves to be, at least. Now, back to Sartre’s Being and Nothingness....