Nuts & Mutton

Somebody sent me a joke that’s circulating around the internet:

Guy’s stuck in a traffic jam, when someone knocks on his window. “What’s up?” “Terrorists have kidnapped Stephen Harper, Stephane Dion and Jack Layton. They’re holding them in a car further up the line, threatening to dowse them in gasoline and set them alight if we don’t pay a ransom of $10 million. We’re going from car to car to take up a collection.” “How much is everyone giving, on average?” “About 4 liters.”

Yeah, I know, lame-o. You could see it coming from the first sentence. But I read it aloud to my First Husband anyway, and he dutifully laughed. Then he looked thoughtful and said, “I can’t help wondering, why is everybody so angry?” It took me a few minutes to stop spluttering, but I eventually calmed down enough to point out that (a) nobody wanted this damn’ election anyway, except the politicians; (b) Harper broke his own fixed election date law to call it; (c) it’s costing hundreds of millions of dollars in tax-payers’ money, and (d) to add insult to injury, technically, we’re without a government at a time of the greatest financial/economic crisis since the Great Depression.

Seem to me like pretty good reasons to be mad as hell. And I’m sure I could think up another few hundred, if I had a minute or two.

I’m not sure where the Toronto Star is going with its headline to this story. I’ve been to Auschwitz and, believe me, there is nothing I could say to convey the depths of shame and horror I felt in that place.

It appears that the members of the parole board that turned down Robert Latimer’s request for day parole were incapable of the compassion and empathy shown in this remarkable letter from Christopher Stone, the father of a child, whose suffering paralleled Tracy Latimer’s.

He bluntly describes his daughter’s and Tracy’s lives: . . . quadriplegic, severely quadriplegic, that is totally paralyzed, incapable of any voluntary movement of arms, legs, face . . . not able to walk, talk or chew . . . blind, unable to see those who loved her dearly and cared for her . . . chronic, uncontrollable, untreatable epileptiform. That is, randomly subject to massive convulsive seizures that were preceded and resulted in what, I am told by those who can speak of it, are the most hideous headaches imaginable. And cruelest of all . . . an unknown degree of mental retardation – in other words, so injured . . . that there was no way of knowing to what extent [they were] aware of [their] surroundings or [their] own condition. Our children were not disabled, they were severely injured beyond any repair.

The response of medical professionals to his daughter’s agony was, he says, barbaric: To stop the limbs from falling out of joint, you slice the ligaments that hold them to the body. To stop the spine from collapsing, you insert a metal bar. Does anyone think that the pain associated with a steel bar inserted into the spine ends with the anaesthetic? To continue being able to feed the child, you put a hole in the stomach and apply the food directly. Do we enjoy food and all that goes with it? Do the justices of the Supreme Court? Imagine the terrible irony – the gentle ritual of feeding, one of the few pleasures, nay, life-affirming things they were able to enjoy, would be denied our children so they could be kept alive. What would these repulsive insults to our children’s bodies result in? An improved functionality or capability? – No. A medical cadre assuaged by doing all it can? – Yes. A prolongation of life? – Perhaps. A greater quotient of pain? – Most definitely.

Two desperately sad stories. I understand why advocates for the disabled are so vociferous in their condemnation of Robert Latimer. And yet, as a parent myself, I can imagine doing what both of these fathers did to put an end to their daughters’ pain. (I should also add, that not everybody in the disabled community condemns Robert Latimer for what he did.)

I see that Justin Trudeau has decided to honour Canadians with his presence in politics. I hope he loses the election big-time, and then he can retire to the anonymity he so richly deserves. He annoys me, because he has this daft idea that he is marked for greatness, just because he is his father’s son.

I saw him recently on the Rick Mercer Report. When Mercer asked him about entering politics, he started banging on about having been given gifts, the ability to speak to people, to listen to people, yada-yada. The man is obviously deluded. He believes he’s the next Liberal Messiah. I’d have a whole lot more respect for him if he just said he loves politics, wants to get in the ring and fight dirty, like all the rest.

Here’s a big shout out to the people of Papineau, Quebec: “Send him back to teaching drama to impressionable teenage girls.” Now, if it were Sasha who was entering politics, it would be a whole nuther story. Unlike his brother, he’s more than just a pretty face.

Interesting results from a chemical check-up of Canadian politicians.

This really pissed me off. Canadians are getting killed at a rate five times the average for NATO and U.S. forces in Afghanistan. Canada’s soldiers have suffered more than one-quarter of the combat deaths in Afghanistan this year, with 32 killed as of November 27. Germany, with a contingent 400 soldiers larger than the 2,300 Canadians, hasn’t been involved in any fighting and has suffered no combat casualties this year.