November 30th, 2008 § § permalink
“Oh shit. What have we done?”
Just when you think Canadian politics couldn’t get more boring, they drag you back in with a juicy constitutional crisis. When I heard what Harper had done, I waltzed up to The First Husband in the Foredeck chortling, “Omg, Stevie baby has done it now. He just couldn’t resist the urge to get the boot into the Opposition.” As always, he didn’t even look up from what he was doing, just murmured “What has Harper done now to set you off on another rant.” There’s no point in talking to him about it – he informed me last night, as we were on the way to dinner with friends, that I’m so blinded by my hatred of Harper that I can’t see clear. The bastard; he chose his moment well. I had to be nice to him for the rest of the evening, since we were guests in someone’s house and they weren’t up for a good old Irish-style barroom brawl about politics. (Damn these polite Canadians. But the fondue was delicious.)
I may despise the man (I only hate people who are relevant to my life!), but even I could not believe that Harper would be so stupid, that he was incapable of ignoring his dark side, even at a time like this. Given the chance to bankrupt the opposition parties, he had to take it, and to hell with any mature, decent impulse to achieve all-party unity in a time of national crisis. He miscalculated, thought the other parties would turn the other cheek, and they didn’t. And, in typical bully-boy Harper fashion, first he huffs and puffs – insisting Stephan Dion had no right to take over the government without an election and ignoring his own statements and actions along the same lines in the past – then he shuffles out poor old John Baird, the one-time party Rotweiler, now a sad, closeted shadow of his former self whose only duty seems to be squiring the PM’s wife to charity events, to mumble that, erm, they were withdrawing the measure and could the nasty opposition parties please stop coalitioning and all.
As if. The Liberals and Dippers have smelled blood in the water and they’re circling for the kill. Now, if they could just refrain from biting their own testicles off, we might have a coalition, small-l liberal government by Christmas. Fun times, tra-la.
November 29th, 2008 § § permalink
Commiserating by email with a friend whose husband has been diagnosed with an aggressive cancer, I remarked that this was one of the few times when I regret being an atheist, because I could not trot out platitudes about prayer. Her response floored me. I quote:
Funny that! I never regret being an atheist. I really don’t understand how it’s possible to be anything else. My favourite poem:
Ah, snug lie those who slumber
Beneath conviction’s roof
Their doors are sturdy lumber,
Their windows weatherproof
But I sleep cold forever,
And cold sleep all my kind
Born nakedly to slumber
In the draft from an open mind.
The verse was penned by Phyllis McGinley, who won the Pulitzer for poetry in 1961.
November 28th, 2008 § § permalink
- My stomach is shrinking, thanks to some disciplined eating and a daily workout. TG for a home gym!
- Salad is what I ate the most of on Thursday – a delicious spinach, bacon and pine nuts salad at Treadwells in Port Dalhousie and a Greek salad with chicken at the Yacht Club last night.
- The yard looks like shite – not just because of this dreary November weather, but also because I hate gardening (so shoot me!) and never touch it year round. A gardening service mows during the summer and that’s it. It just sits there, making me feel guilty. I’d asphalt the whole damn’ thing if I could.
- At home is where I’d rather be at any given time, despite the lousy, guilt-inducing garden. I like to travel, but I love coming home to my own nest.
- The smell of 4711 Cologne reminds me of Christmas – probably because it was what I used to buy as my mother’s gift every year, when I was a kid.
- Inspiration to strike is what I need right now! I have three speech drafts to work on today.
- And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to Lazy Friday Night with The First Husband; tomorrow my plans include finishing those damn’ speech drafts before leaving for dinner with friends in Port Dover; and Sunday, I want to read by the fire – but I’ll probably have to get some laundry and grocery shopping out of the way too! Much as I hate shopping, I thank the gods for living in Ontario, with its Sunday shopping.
Thanks to Janet for the template. Hope your father feels better soon.
November 27th, 2008 § § permalink
For my American friends, a piece from Anne Lamott, a Christian even a disgruntled old atheist like myself can love.
If you’re an aspiring writer – I’m looking at you Smart Mouth Broad! – I recommend Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird, which IMHO, is second only to Stephen King’s On Writing, for making you feel good about your chances of making it as a writer.
November 26th, 2008 § § permalink
I stole this from Thistle, who stole it from here, who, in turn, stole it from this blog, who stole it from someone else – and I ran out of energy before I could track the originator down. But you get the idea. Anyhoo, feel free to steal it forward …
- Witness Protection Name: (motherâ€™s & fatherâ€™s middle names)
NoMiddleName NoMiddleName (hmmm . . . guess my grandparents had no imagination)
- NASCAR Name: (first name of your motherâ€™s dad, fatherâ€™s dad)
- Star Wars Name: (the first 2 letters of your last name, first 4 letters of your first name)
- Detective Name: (favorite color, favorite animal)
- Soap Opera Name: (middle name, city where you live)
- Superhero Name: (2nd favorite color, favorite alcoholic drink, optionally add â€œTHEâ€ to the beginning)
The Red Pinot Grigio
- Fly Name: (first 2 letters of 1st name, last 2 letters of your last name)
- Gangsta Name: (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite cookie):
Dulce de leche Newton
- Rock Star Name: (current petâ€™s name, current street name)
- Porn Name: (1st pet, street you grew up on)
November 25th, 2008 § § permalink
The good news, from HuffPo today, is that Ann Bloody Coulter has had her jaw wired shut. The bad news is that it’s not permanent.
November 25th, 2008 § § permalink
From Harper’s Weekly this morning comes this little bit of “news:”
New evidence suggested that Adolf Hitler was monorchic, or single-testicled, having lost the other in the Battle of the Somme in 1916.
Apparently a WWI German army medic confessed Der Fuehrer’s little secret to a priest in the 1960s. The priest kept note of this interesting tit-bit, and it has now come to light. But this is not news to anyone who has ever sung the words of Colonel Bogey’s March, which go something like this:
Hitler has only got one ball,
Goering has two, but very small;
Himmler has something simmler,
But poor old Goebbels has noebbels at all.
I hope there was no note-taking during my days in the confessional. Not that there’d be much to record. I and the rest of the neighbourhood kids, pushed out of the house by our mothers every Saturday to go to confession, always lined up outside Fr Taylor’s confessional, even when the other pews were empty. He was known as ‘Flash’ Taylor, because you were in and out in seven seconds flat, with three Hail Marys for your penance. Didn’t matter what sins you confessed, it was always the same. One of the local bully-boys used to boast that he’d proved this, telling Flash he’d killed his granny and still being sent away with three Hail Marys.
November 24th, 2008 § § permalink
If you’re in the mood for a good ROFLMAO moment to chase the Monday blahs away, follow this link to Charlie Brooker’s Comment is Free column in the Guardian. DON’T read while drinking coffee …