Our esteemed Prime Minister Stephen "Steve" Harper has been going out of his way to twist the nostrils of his political opposition, threatening another Federal Election.
Harper is a political bully of the Rumsfeld and Cheney class of manipulative control freaks who needs to micro manage anything and everything, subsequently managing nothing. This perfectly sums up the last two years of federal governance in Canada. The government sent out a press release saying nothing has changed and they’re right. Our lapdog media naturally published the press release in its’ entirety making sure that all Canadians know that nothing has changed.
This could be construed as a good thing, but what it truly shows is the utter lack of imagination in our media and our politicians. Now Harper is lining up to run another Federal election up the Canadian colon.
Harper is the US historical equivalent of Herbert Hoover, or Silent Cal Coolidge, a fiscal conservative, a bible-thumper and as communicative as a box of rocks. For years he’s wanted to be George Bush’s buddy, to the point of the rest of Canada cringed when Bush came to town: Harper would usually spend the week after a Bush visit in the hospital, getting his cheeks puffed back out from sucking so hard.
The alternatives facing the Canadian voter are:
Stephane Dion of the Liberals (semi-Democrats for the US readers) who is recognized on the streets of Ottawa by seven or eight people. Outside of Ottawa, voters know he exists but couldn’t pick him out of a police line up. He might as well be in the witless protection program. No that’s not a typo. The Liberals, the at-one-time Natural Ruling Party of Canada, couldn’t organize a two-car funeral these days.
Jack Layton of the New Democratic Party (Social Democrat-near-Socialist in US context) looks like the supervisor of the Meat Department at your local Safeway. His party has a couple of good ideas but is fighting with one hand behind their back, as their leader is charisma-challenged. Jack looks like he longs to be back amongst the blade steaks and the roasts.
Gilles Duceppe is the leader of the Bloc Quebecois, a regional party with mono-mania and an inability to change the subject. Outside of Quebec, the citizens of Canada look at Duceppe as one looks upon a mentally challenged cousin: We wouldn’t be surprised if he gets a Silver at the Special Olympics in the 200 meter drool.
There is also Elizabeth May of the Green Party. She’s almost lifelike but still hasn’t got a seat in Parliament, despite some reasonable attempts and has no prospect of getting a seat unless an entire riding in British Columbia decides to drink the bong water on election day.
Meanwhile, the humble citizens go about their business, hoping that Harper gets back on his meds and stops this foolishness of asking for an election. We don’t want one. The alternatives to Harper are so confused, unexciting and inappropriate that voting will only be allowed for those who have taken a course of Immodium and have put a wooden clothespin on their nose before marking their X.
RoadDave 
Olys Wrap Up
We gave Mason Baveux an assignment, despite our better judgement, to watch and report on the Bejing Olympics. I’ve transcribed his ‘report’ from the three-ring binder paper he used and have left the grammar and spelling as crafted by Mason.
Dave said I could do the wrapup on the Olympics fer his blog as I was gonna watch most of it. Which I did you know. Went thru two sets of batteries on the remote bouncing back and forth from CBC to NBC. I told the boss I was takin some time off, so’s I wouldn’t be interrupted.
Now the first thing is Bejing is 12 hours away, so if she’s noon here, she’s midnight over there and the Olys don’t run at night, so if you wanned to watch live, you’re up at some jeezly hour fighting the shakes. Which I did you know.
The Opening ceremonies were weird dam shit. What the hell do strippers bangin waterlogged drums have to do with track and field? The TV guys said that it was about the history of China over the centuries, but I didn’t get’er. Canada looked pretty good in the parade tho, ‘cept if you were watching NBC.
Which brings me to a pisser. How come the American TV did all these stories on the guy who ties the shoelaces of some Yank athlete, from Dumbcrack Idaho, with his retarded sister and his war veteran mom. Jeez, not even a story about the guy wearing the shoes, but about his shoelace tyin specialist, followed up by a half-hour about how tyin your shoelaces wrong’ll cost you the Gold in pond jumpin or some other such bull.
Gymnatics: If them Chinese girls are 16, I’m a raccoons ball sack. I was waitin for the cops to bust down the door for me watching child porn. There weren’t no fuzz on the peach if you catch me drift. Nobody whacked face as best I remember, as there all good at getting on the beam. The shit with the ribbons and hoops made me dizzy, so I had a nap. Which I did you know.
Field Hockey: Never seen it before, so I figured I’d giver a try. Yessiree Lanka versus Chad? On grass, with canes and a softball? I guess they don’t have ice in Beijing, or Chad. And nobody gets 5 for fighting or misconduct. I’d a paid money to watch Tiger Williams cross check some of them players flat to the sod then drop gloves. Good passin tho.
Swimming: I’d want to check that Mike Phelps for gills. He’s good.
Running: Holy Mother of Mary them Jamaicans were fast. Hussein Bolt was just playin with’em in the 100 and the 200, then showed us what fast means in the 400 relays. Then the NBC showed us a two-hour documentary about how passin a stick from one guy to another is harder than the whole NASA space program ’cause one of their turtles hurt his hand signing endorsement contracts and couldn’t pass the stick.
Cocks and Eight: Just rowing a boat, but we kicked ass. Same with kayaks and one and two guy rowing.
Boxing: There’s one little guy from Cuba who’d beat down the Great Wall of China if you’d let him. Tough son of gun.
Wrestling: This ain’t rasslin, but the Oly brand of wrestling, where you can’t come off the top rope and the chairs are kept away from the ring, which is just a circle, so it took some getting used to. And there was female wrestling too, and not on pay-per-view, right in the coverage, as normal as you please. I wonder if they’ll add midget wrestling for the London games.
Sword Fighting: They call it fencing and you couldn’t see shit.
Softball: The Women’s Softballers are kinda sneaky. I played a game once with the lads against the Forrester’s Falls Women’s Team and when they’d pitch the ball, all you’d see was nothin’ then hear it in the catchers mitt and hear the ump say ‘strike one’. It might be underhand, but when they get the whip on, she’s movin’. They played some good ball and it was a hell of a lot better than watchin the Jays.
High Def: The Olys were in High Def HD, which means the pictures are bigger, wider and clearer for you what has a High Def. They say you could see the camel-toe in beach volleyball from a hundred yards away. I don’t have HD, so go figure.
Horse Jumping: We did good there.
Sailing: Didn’t watch’er.
Pentaheptadodecahedratholon: 5, 8, 10 or 136 sports all in a row by the same guy who then pukes up his guts at the finish line. Won by some Kenyan I think. At least he wasn’t American, ’cause they would have had a four hour profile on his left nose hair trimmer and a half-hour story on the crippled gal who made the ink for his paper number. All brought to you by Budweiser, Summer’s Eve and General Motors. Jeez there was lots of commercials.
Closing Ceremonies. I was half in the bag when she wrapped up, so I don’t remember much but the London bus opening up to show a pole dancer and some guy from Led Zepplin who looks like my Uncle Phil, but more wasted.
That’s the Olys. See you in Vancouver when we do her for real.
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