Sometimes life intrudes and if your job has a lot of writing in it and your past-time has a lot of writing in it, there comes that point where you don’t want to write, unless the paycheque demands it. Which sometimes happens.
Believe it or not, writing takes a fair amount of energy, sometimes physical energy, but also mental energy and for the last few weeks, work has been taking the cycles available. Oh well.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t been outraged here and there and by way of a catch up, here we go:
GM in Chapter 11. The Poncho brand is gone and GM looking for a buyer for Hummer and Saab, but can’t find a Russian oligarch with enough money, but not quite enough stupidity to buy the two red-headed stepchildren of GM. Needless to say the couple of thousand dealers who got their walking papers are going to ensure that what’s left of the GM brand is tarred, feathered, keyed and pissed upon from a great height.
Chrysler. I’m not sure I could actually care less. Their cars were designed by a cabal of un-medicated bipolars. They could design the Viper and engineer it with true skill and then turn around and float a turd like the PT Cruiser. The couple of thousand dealers who took it rectally from Chrysler are also going to ensure that any product that comes out will be tarred, feathered, keyed and pissed on from a great height.
The Chalk River Isotope Fiasco. Let’s see, AECL knew 30 years ago that the NRU had a 25 year operating life. That was 20 years into its’ lifecycle as the producer of the majority of the medical isotopes on this planet. For some reason AECL felt that simple concepts of time and space did not apply to their organization, so they ignored the calendar. Now NRU is cold and will be for the foreseeable future. Yet, the folks who run AECL still have jobs and the Minister, who might as well be in the Witless Protection Program, have nothing to say.
Shootings, Stabbings and General Mayhem in Toronto. It seems that every second day there is a new act of violence here. If the garbage workers go on strike during Pride Week, we’ll be up to our midsections in trash in a six days. No, I don’t mean because of Pride Week. I’m a bit more inclusive than that. Trashy people can have Pride too. I’m talking legit garbage.
Iggy and The Psychotic Cuttin’ A Deal. The Leader of Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition and the Poster Child for Haloperidol (in massive doses) met three times one day this week and decided not to have a Federal Election this summer. Nice of them to ask us. Unfortunately, they’re right. If we did have an election this summer, the leaders of the various parties would have to campaign by video link, as voters might do them physical harm.
eHealth. This pool of fermenting fecal matter is so symptomatic of the greasy sense of entitlement that certain sections of society have, that I can’t even get outraged about it. It’s nothing more than the filthy rich looking after each other with untendered contracts, insane levels of compensation, no financial controls and a whole culture of a wink and nod with millions of tax dollars. Do they care about actual health care? Of course not.
The Wayne County Scarlet Airfoils were defeated by the Pittsburgh Flightless Sea Birds. For some reason the planet continued revolving the next day. Apparently someone didn’t shake hands with someone else afterwards. Oh and the Blackberry guy wants a team in Hamilton so bad he’s willing to move all of Hamilton to Arizona, or something like that. That’s the News in Sports.
I always wondered why people drink to excess. I’m starting to realize why.
Tomorrow is another jour. We move on.
RoadDave 