A Little Perspective

" I offically hate Bret Ratner now worse than Hitler" This was an AICN posting December 5th, 2005 of reaction to new X-men movie teaser trailer.

While Brian Singer, originally slated to direct, is adored by fans of the superhero genre, largely because of his two successful X-men adaptations, his replacement is considered a talentless hack by many AICN fanboys. Bret Ratner, who directed Red Dragon (which I like) and the Rush Hour flicks (which are mildly amusing)was brought on board when Singer left the third X-men movie because he was offered the job of directing Superman II.

What really made my day is this follow up post, a few minutes later, by Uncooked_Meat (that's some handle, Poindexter):

08:17:21 PM CST And thus, fellow talkbackers, we have seen the day when AICN
hyperbole reached truly epic proportions. A level which has not been seen
before, and will not see again. Let us sit and comtemplate it.

Canadian Unity Update

Back in the day, I wrote an angry rant about Edith Gebndron, real piece of work who somehow managed to ignore the absurd contradictions of her life and reconcile her high-paying Federal Public Service job at Canadian Heritage, a department dedicated to promoting a cohesive country, with her sovereigntist political ideology and activism in a group pursuing the breakup of Canada.

I am pleased to report that subsequently, Ms. Gendron's untenable career paradox ended when she was unceremoniously fired ass-over-tea-kettle out the door by Patrimoine Canadien. How did I discover this? I read this article, which tells us that Edith's husband, Richard Nadeau, is running for the Bloc in an Outaouais riding.

A belated congratulations to Edith on her firing (and her inevitable enshrinement in the pantheon of middle class martyrs of the sovereigniste cause) and best of luck to her as she embarks on the next stage of her life as the wife of a Bloc MP, a duty which will hopefully be free of the ethical dilemmas she seems so singularly ill-equipped to handle.

Election Insanity

Ya gotta love the campaign, folks. I mean, there is some genuinely hilarious stuff going on right now, as Politicians twist themselves into pretzels attempting to explain to us why "the other guys" will be soooo bad for Canada.

Belinda Stronach just blasted Stephen Harper for being willing to putting the country at risk for "Selfish political gain". Ms. Stronach, who can barely put two words together in French, unless it is to order the Terrine de confit de canard aux noix at Cafe Henry Burger, has seen fit to work La Belle Province into her speeches, claiming that bringing down the Liberal minority was "an ill-conceived assault" by Harper on federalism in Quebec.

Meanwhile, sources tell me that, in a vain attempt to appear more virile, our pension-eligible PM has been secretly studying the ancient secret techniques of Rum-Fu and will unleash his new skills with devastating effect on the leaders of the rival parties at the first televised debate.

Watch for that, people... it's gonna be awesome!

Rick Mercer works blue

And it's funny! Check out his blog, which features letters from the desks of Paul Martin and Stephen Harper as well as a Photo Challenge. My personal fave is "Drop the Writ Like it's Hot" With the Snoop D-O-double-G in the background. Priceless.

I'm engaged

Tonight, this lovely girl accepted my marriage proposal. 

Win by Losing

Toronto author, former Liberal advisor and Martin-hater Warren Kinsela expounds upon a theme that some wobbly Liberals may start to subscribe to if the campaign goes to shit:

Can a political party win by losing?
In the election campaign that effectively begins today, that is the question many Liberals are asking themselves. And, in quiet moments, many of them are concluding that losing power - not for a long time, but long enough - would be a good thing.
As a former senior Liberal cabinet minister told me just last week: "We need renewal. We need new people, we need new ideas, and we need the kind of things that can only come with some time in the penalty box. I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need to lose."

It is not an exaggeration to say that the Liberal Party of Canada is broken. Beset by a paucity of ideas and energy, struggling with mounting debt and scandals, riven by infighting and division, despairing of an ineffective cabinet and a dithering leader, the formerly great party of Pearson and Trudeau and Chrétien is great no more. Its soul is lost.

No better recent example of this can be found than in the sad drama that unfolded in the past few days in the Toronto riding of Etobicoke-Lakeshore. For more than a decade, the riding had been ably represented by Jean Augustine - an honest, respected woman of colour who would have easily won re-election in 2006. But last week, as Ms. Augustine cried in the national Liberal caucus, disbelieving Members of Parliament learned that she was "stepping aside." Having endured nearly two years of bullying by Paul Martin's aides, few believed that Ms. Augustine was doing so willingly.

This week, Liberals in Etobicoke-Lakeshore witnessed the astonishing spectacle of hard-working local Grits being excluded from the process - literally denied entry to party headquarters, whilst Mr. Martin's minions inside ignored their pleas to open the doors. And, shortly thereafter, the locked-out Liberals learned in the media that Ms. Augustine's successor had already been decided - a white man and foreign resident named Michael Ignatieff.

The Globe and Mail and a few members of Toronto's brie-and-chardonnay chattering classes have been championing Mr. Ignatieff for many months, now, talking him up as a successor to Mr. Martin. Despite the fact that Mr. Ignatieff has not lived in Canada for more than two decades - despite the fact he supports George W. Bush's illegal war in Iraq, opposition to which remains one of Jean Chrétien's most popular legacies - Mr. Martin and his bunkered circle of advisors were undeterred.

Mr. Ignatieff, a Harvard University professor and author, arguably possesses an impressive curriculum vitae, as do many of the other rumoured aspirants to the Liberal Party crown - among them former New Brunswick Premier Frank McKenna, former Minister of Justice Martin Cauchon, or former Ontario Premier (and former NDP member) Bob Rae. All of these impressive men (no women among them so far, another telling indicator of the Liberal Party's state of disrepair) would be laudable candidates for leadership.

But - and I say this as one who possesses no enthusiasm whatsoever for Mr. Martin's leadership nor the insular group around him - what the Liberal Party needs is much more than a leadership race. A leadership race will not attract the sorts of things the Liberal Party of Canada desperately needs: new ideas, new approaches, new people and a new generation of leadership. What Liberals need is not just a new leader -what Liberals need is a new Liberal Party.

Power, which Liberals have been privileged to wield since 1993, tends to have a corrosive effect on political parties. Cabinet ministers and Parliamentary secretaries start spending more time in Ottawa than in their ridings; senior staff and Parliamentarians socialize with deputy ministers instead of local mayors and community leaders; the opinions of national media columnists take on a greater significance than the voices raised in town hall meetings and church basements.

In time, Liberals (and, before that, Conservatives) find that they have lost touch with the people they were hired to represent. They start to make mistakes, as they did again in Etobicoke-Lakeshore. They become, in effect, what they were sent to Ottawa to change.

Thus the Liberal Party of Canada, circa 2005 A.D. Dispirited, disliked and divided in much of the country - and spared the loss of power only by the fact that their principal adversaries are (for now) distrusted by many female voters. Too many Liberals confuse the Conservatives' continuing inability to win an election with enthusiasm for the alternative. One day - and one day soon, I believe - the Conservative Party will attract the support of enough Canadians, and Liberals will bitterly rue the day they forsook renewal.

Some Liberals, and all of Paul Martin's sect, will dismiss all of this as the carping of an exiled Chrétien-era Liberal, naturally. That is their way. Their cloistered arrogance - their near-total inability to make out the country that lies beyond the Parliamentary precinct - led to the loss of Mr. Chrétien's majority and, a few weeks hence, will further reduce the dimensions their listing, listless minority government. Their opinion, at long last, counts for nothing.

For the rest of us, however - for a majority of Canadians and, I believe, for a silent number of traditional Liberals - we know that an election loss would be a good thing. For the country, and for a once-great political party, too.

Lomins the lawyer-in-training sent me this, and I almost peed myself laughing. If you substitute "Aikido chop" for "roundhouse kick" you could probably apply most of these statements (substituting pony tail references for beard references, of course) to Stephen Seagal who, for my money, breaks bones and dislocates joints better than any tubby martial-arts star out there today.

Top Thirty Facts About Chuck Norris:

1.Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

2. Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

3. Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

4. Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.

5. Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.

6. Filming on location for Walker: Texas Ranger, Chuck Norris brought a stillborn baby lamb back to life by giving it a prolonged beard rub. Shortly after the farm animal sprang back to life and a crowd had gathered, Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked the animal, breaking its neck, to remind the crew once more that Chuck giveth, and the good Chuck, he taketh away.

7. Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.

8. Chuck Norris's girlfriend once asked him how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. He then shouted, "HOW DARE YOU RHYME IN THE PRESENCE OF CHUCK NORRIS!" and ripped out her throat. Holding his girlfriend's bloody throat in his hand he bellowed, "Don't fuck with Chuck!" Two years and five months later he realized the irony of this statement and laughed so hard that anyone within a hundred mile radius of the blast went deaf.

9. The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

10. To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.

11. Chuck Norris was the fourth Wiseman. He brought baby Jesus the gift of "beard". Jesus wore it proudly to his dying day. The other Wisemen, jealous of Jesus' obvious gift favoritism, used their combined influence to have Chuck omitted from the Bible. Shortly after all three died of roundhouse kick related deaths.

12. If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck
Norris you may be only seconds away from death.

13. Rather than being birthed like a normal child, Chuck Norris instead
decided to punch his way out of his mother's womb. Shortly thereafter he grew a beard.

14. There are no disabled people. Only people who have met Chuck Norris.

15. Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying

16. Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

17. Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck
Norris

18. Chuck Norris can mathematically make two wrongs equal a right.

19. When Chuck Norris's wife burned the turkey one Thanksgiving, Chuck said,
"Don't worry about it honey," and went into his backyard. He came back five minutes later with a live turkey, ate it whole, and when he threw it up a few seconds later it was fully cooked and came with cranberry sauce. When his wife asked him how he had done it, he gave her a roundhouse kick to the face and said, "Never question Chuck Norris."

20. The quickest way to a man's heart is with Chuck Norris's fist.

21. Chuck Norris died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the
courage to tell him.

22. Chuck Norris appeared in the "Street Fighter II" video game, but was removed by Beta Testers because every button caused him to do a roundhouse kick. When asked bout this "glitch," Norris replied, "That's no glitch."

23. It was once believed that Chuck Norris actually lost a fight to a pirate, but that is a lie, created by Chuck Norris himself to lure more pirates to him. Pirates never were very smart.

24. Chuck Norris won 'Jumanji' without ever saying the word. He simply beat the living shit out of everything that was thrown at him, and the game forfeited.

25. Chuck Norris frequently signs up for beginner karate classes, just so he can "accidentally" beat the shit out of little kids.

26. When Chuck Norris plays Oregon Trail his family does not die from cholera or dysentery, but rather roundhouse kicks to the face. He also requires no wagon, since he carries the oxen, axels, and buffalo meat on his back. He always makes it to Oregon before you.

27. Similar to a Russian Nesting Doll, if you were to break Chuck Norris open you would find another Chuck Norris inside, only smaller and angrier.

28. After much debate, President Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima rather than the alternative of sending Chuck Norris. His reasoning? It was more "humane".

29. Chuck Norris once tried to sue Burger King after they refused to put razor wire in his Whopper Jr., insisting that that actually is "his" way.

30. Chuck Norris once bet NASA he could survive re-entry without a spacesuit. On July 19th, 1999, a naked Chuck Norris re-entered the earth's atmosphere, streaking over 14 states and reaching a temperature of 3000 degrees. An embarrassed NASA publically claimed it was a meteor, and still owes him a beer.

When it all comes tumbling down...

So it would appear we have an election campaign on our hands. If Paul Martin is to be believed, this will be a battle between the forces of good vs. the evil "NEO-CONS" (watch for that nugget to surface time and time again in the coming campaign), and their nefarious allies, the separatiste Bloc (Formerly known as Sergeant Duceppe's Lonely Nationalist Hearts Club Band).

It was history-in-the-making. High drama, as MPs rose one by one to vote on a simple motion of non-confidence. When it was over, the ayes had it. The Gomery parliament, as Rex Murphy calls it, was toast.

Anyone else notice that Martin didn't even bother to stand up and announce that he would be visiting the GG in the morning to ask her to drop the writ? By God, Paul Martin will not be held hostage to parliamentary procedure! How dare ye suggest otherwise. Boy, with that big shit-eating grin he wore in the caucus meeting right after the non-confidence vote, you would almost think he had won the damn thing.

Shit-eating grins were not in short supply tonight. Stephen Harper, too, had one plastered to his pasty visage... of course, in his case, it came across like the pained grimace you usually see on a man suffering a particularly troublesome case of flatulence. Old Steve did a yeoman job rallying the troops. None of that "angry-scary boogeyman Harper" that Canadians have come to know and dislike. He was all about the bright and sunny future that will no doubt follow a Conservative victory in the next parliament. As for the other two: Duceppe was Duceppe --thoroughly unsympathetic and madeningly confident and competent. Damnit if I'm not starting to like the guy! Layton looked glum as he read his recipe cards-- I know his handlers have been telling him to try to look more serious and not so gratingly gleeful, but come on, Jack! You just handed Martin his cojones! Try to look like you enjoyed it a teeny-tiny bit, 'kay?

My verdict? Altogether unimpressive, as far as history-in-the-making goes.

...Hey at least the Eskies won the Cup last night. And who better to comment on their triumph than Edmonton's own, The Coshster?

But I digress... we are sure to hear the parties hold forth on a number of issues in the upcoming extenda-campaign (now with more wintery goodness), but one topic that is sure to be avoided like the plague is abortion. It's the one that just won't go away, though, as the Ottawa Citizen's Brigitte Pellerin tells us this week:

Last Thursday we learned that less than 24 hours before the start of the conference, religious (Roman Catholic) authorities at the Oratory had told the organizers to find a different venue. "In the past three days, we have been informed that protests on our grounds are being planned against the 2005 pro-life conference," said Rector Jean-Pierre Aumont. "We have come to the conclusion that we cannot guarantee the safety of people on the grounds of Saint-Joseph's Oratory during this event." Much scrambling ensued, but the conference began more or less as planned at the(Protestant) La Bible parle church in suburban Cartierville. Participants included a number of friends and acquaintances of mine, including longtime journalist Peter Stockland and Richard Bastien of the Quebec journal Égards. MPs Stockwell Day and Pat O'Brien, as well as former Bloc MP and unsuccessful Parti Québécois leadership candidate Ghislain Lebel, were also there. In the end, slightly fewer than 400 participants went about their business, and most deemed the conference a success despite the threats (I'm told a window was broken), graffiti on the church's steps - including a heartfelt "inquisitors to the stake" - and noisy street protests complete with banners that read, "If only Mary [yes, that Mary] had known about abortion" and "Take your rosary off my ovaries."
It's always nice to see such self-described tolerant and progressive folks in action. Quietly and peacefully protesting a conference is certainly legal, awful banners and all. For the record, though, I would like to state that anybody - whether clutching a rosary or, for that matter, a vacuum cleaner - who gets too close to my ovaries will experience a swift elbow to the chin. What's not OK, or legal, is trying to shut down other people's lawfully gathered conferences, no matter how distasteful you find them. Nobody has a right to use violence, or the threat of violence, to disrupt legal peaceful activities by private groups. As for the Catholic authorities at the Oratory who chickened out, they ought to be ashamed of themselves.

...Disgraceful

Post-grey cup thoughts:

The CFL is to the NFL as a smash-up derby is to an Amtrack switchyard

The CFL did not "borrow" NHL fans during the strike. It earned every damn one of them. Today, those fans got their new customer bonus.

It's been said before, but it is worth saying again: Players play in the CFL for love of the game, not for money.

... and that makes all the difference in the world.

My free political advice to the PM as we enter the election campaign:

You can't have it both ways Paul.

Are you the Paul Martin who was Finance Minister in the Chretien government? You know, the guy who steered us to umpteen balanced budgets and who slew the deficit? Oh, yeah? Then you were also , a senior Cabinet Minister, the deputy chair of Treasury Board,and a member of the Quebec Caucus... you know, one of the guys who brought us Adscam, right?

NO?

You knew nothing of the actions of the Quebec wing of the Liberal Party?

Well that's Gomery told us, at any rate?

You repudiate those actions?

Well then, damnit, perhaps you dissociate yourself completely from the filthy corrupt people responsible for that abomination! Maybe even leave the Liberal name behind! Yeah....With your connections and big bucks, you could certainly found your own party, a fiscally conservative, socially progressive party that panders to the provinces! Le Parti Paul Martin! sounds like a winner to me...Force your caucus to choose sides! Force your candidates the same! Come on, last election your people ran as L'equipe Martin, basically forsaking the Liberal brand, and when you did all those great things all those many years ago, it was as FINANCE MINISTER Paul Martin, not as "Liberal MP" Paul Martin, no?

I'm just jokin', Paulie. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? It may be a Paul Martin Government, but its a Liberal Government all the same, and like it or not, you people have been in power for over a decade. And we are getting tired, Paul, oh so tired of your shenanigans. Ultimately, you will be judged by the electorate as a Liberal, because like it or not, all your attempts to "re-brand" notwithstanding, that's what you are.

Question is.. are people sick enough of you guys to throw you out on your ear?

We'll find out in January.

Memories of Cordoba: Inside the Awe-inspiring Mezquita, June 2005 

In no particular order...

Looks like we will be having a Christmas election campaign. I'm not entirely sure why this is a big deal, but the pundits would have us believe that this rare occurence in Canadian politics will have far-reaching impacts. I remain skeptical on the supposed significance of a December campaign, and I expect that this election, like so many others in recent memory, will be characterized by voter apathy, low voter turnout, and a continuing decline in Canadians' statisfaction with their electoral system and the political class at large.

Oh, yeah, and crap like THIS doesn't help improve the public's perception of their leaders. How stupid do these guys take us for? This is really too rich.

~~~~~~

I read something eerily prophetic the other day:

"At what point shall we expect the approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it? Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant, to step the Ocean, and crush us at a blow? Never! All the armies of Europe, Asia and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military chest; with a Buonaparte for a commander, could not by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years. At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher."

Those words were spoken by a young attorney on January 27, 1838 in his "Address Before the Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois". It was his very prescient reminder that it is often within a society that the seeds of destruction take root.

~~~~~~

Another disturbing quote on the death of Europe, and Western society's inexhorable march towards demographic disaster (one of my favourite hobby horses). This one, from George Weigel, author of The Cube and the Cathedral -- Europe, America, and Politics Without God: "by 2050, 60 percent of Italians will not know from personal experience what a brother, a sister, an aunt, an uncle, or a cousin is." Quoted in Ed Thomas, "Theologian Suggests U.S. Learn from Europe's Shift Toward Secularism
June 15, 2005

Is Western civilization intent on committing suicide? Apparently some people are now actively campaigning for the wilful eradication of our species!

Blog Revolution

Pajamas Media
founded by Charles Johnson and Roger Simon (the bloggers who broke and disseminated the fake National Guard memo story and brought Dan Rather's Career to an ugly end) is relaunching.
The National Review Online has more here.

Open Source Media will now be one stop-shopping for people who like to get their news from the guys sitting in their living rooms in their pajamas writing -- to paraphrase Jonathan Klein's now-famous description -- and not just from ideologically-driven politically-connected elitist twits from the Mainstream Media. One of the most trenchant satirical takes on the media elite is, of course, this guy.

Ladies and gentlemen, er, we've just lost the picture, but, uh, what we've seen speaks for itself. The Corvair spacecraft has apparently been taken over -"conquered", if you will - by a master race of giant space ants. It's difficult to tell from this vantage point whether they will consume the captive earth men or merely enslave them. One thing is for certain, there is no stopping them; the ants will soon be here. And I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords. I'd like to remind them that as a trusted TV personality, I can be helpful in rounding up others to toil in their underground sugar caves.

Sleep deprivization

My main squeeze and I went to the Remembrance Day Ceremonies at the National War Memorial last Friday. I was quite pleased to see how many people had shown up. This year being the Year of the Veteran, I suppose people were more inclined to take a little time to honour the sacrifice of those who fought and died for Canada.

What started off as a spontaneous, completely unscripted show of respect in 2000, the year the tomb of the unknown soldier was unveiled, has now become something of a tradition: Again this year, at the conclusion of the ceremony, once the barriers came down and the VIPs had left the cenotaph, crowds of people paraded by the large bronze tomb to deposit their poppies on the bronze lid. In minutes, the tomb was completely carpeted with the bright red flowers. I found that strangely touching.

Later on, I bumped into one of my old militia buddies from my days with the
Lake Sups, now a Sergeant in an intelligence unit. The encounter made me a bit nostalgic and got me to thinking about the good times I had with that unit. They weren't all good times, of course. I remember times on summer course in Wainwright, Alberta or Gagetown, New Brunswick, when things got really tough.

One of my abiding memories is the torment of sleep deprivation. Every soldier who has experienced this misery could tell you stories of the games your mind can play on you when you are five days into a week-long exercise and you are trying to function on a hour's sleep a night. Field exercises on leadership courses, in particular, are deliberately structured so that it is impossible for candidates to get more than one or two hours of sleep in any twenty-four hour period. This is meant to simulate the reality of living under combat conditions and test your ability to cope with physical hardship in a high-pressure environment.

One exercise in Gagetown sticks out in my mind. My platoon was in a defensive position, and we had been attacked and gassed repeatedly over two days, so everyone was in Top-High, meaning we were wearing full Nuclear/Chemical/Biological Warfare (NBCW) gear and gas masks. It was the phantom hour of four-thirty in the a.m., the time when attacks usually occur, and I was in a bad way. My fireteam partner was grabbing some shut-eye in the bottom of the trench and aside from the sound of his shallow breathing through his gasmask, there was complete silence.

Suddenly, as I felt myself drifting into a dozy state, I heard a distinctive metallic thump, very close by. I tensed, cocking an ear a peering into the darkness to try to discern some movement in the killing zone to my front. There was nothing. I relaxed a tiny bit, and gripped my C-7 rifle. Then, a couple of seconds later, I heard the sound again. I was sure that I had heard something, but once again, I couldn't see anything moving to my front. I looked through the optical sight, scanning my surroundings. Nothing. In the minutes that followed, I heard this sound several more times, and each time, I got a little more nervous. I began thinking that maybe one of the psychotic directing staff was nearby, and had decided to fuck with my head.

There was a story, circulating around that time, that a few weeks back, one of the candidates from another platoon had spotted a pink bunny rabbit and a giant yellow duck frolicking in the field in front of his defensive position, and had reported this to his section commander over the radio. At first, this was written off as the twisted hallucinations of a sleep-deprived idiot, and the exhausted troops overhearing this situation report over the company frequency had shared a good laugh. An hour or two later, another candidate reported the same thing. By the time the third report came in of an identical phenomenon, there was no longer any laughter, and some candidates began speculating on the onset of some form of mass hysteria, a madness brought about by sleep deprivation. The story goes that the Regimental Sergeant Major and Commanding Officer of the Infantry school had rented some costumes and gone out into the field as a lark, just to throw a mind-fuck into the poor buggers who were on the exercise.

Now this story is probably apocryphal, and in subsequent years, I'm certain that I heard a couple of variations on that little tale, but at the time, it sounded plausible, and as I stood in my trench, listening for more metallic bangs, I began to convince myself that I too, might soon be visited by pink bunnies and yellow duckies. Finally, after several more minutes of anxiety, I discovered the answer to the mystery. As I rested my face against the coolness of the rifle propped on a sandbag at the lip of the trench, I heard an even louder bang, and immediately felt a sharp pain in my knees. Shaking my head to clear out the cobwebs, I noticed that I seemed to be hunkered in the trench a bit lower than I had been a few seconds before.

It turns out that I had been passing out from exhaustion every few minutes, and as I drifted off, my knees would crumple, and hit the front of the corrugated iron of my trench. This was the metallic banging sound I had been hearing. The sound would then jolt me out of my daze momentarily and I would spring up and scan the training area for a few minutes until I began to fade out again, at which point my knees would hit the front of the trench again, startling me awake. Did I feel stupid? What do you think?

A few days ago, I came across this exchange on some web board, and it made me laugh:

Want to practice sleep deprivation?
It's called college dude...
Do what I did- take a full course load at college(at least 16 units), juggle intramural sports (I did crew), and pledge a fraternity (preferably one that hazes) and you'll come closer to the FUN of sleep deprevation =)

-Bro


Been both places (college/work/fraternity/IM sports life versus BN) and can compare. They don't.

While I am sure you may feel sleep deprived with your collegiate/life pursuits, you "only know what you know". The next time you are going to crew practice or enroute to your next class and are so tired that you have to sprinkle Copenhagen speckles in your eyes to stay awake as you pause to borrow a couple quarters from a talking cheeseburger so you can stick them into the nearest tree to get an icy cold Coke to come out the bottom of it, come back here and tell us about it. We'll be able to relate.


Unless you have gone through sleep-deprivation, military-style, don't talk to me about how tough those grad-school all-nighters were!

A meeting of the minds

Funny anecdote about British philosopher A. J. Ayer I stumbled across:

At a party in 1987 Ayer, then 77, encountered Mike Tyson harassing Naomi Campbell and demanded Tyson stop. Tyson said "Do you know who the fuck I am? I'm the heavyweight champion of the world." Ayer replied "And I am the former Wykeham Professor of Logic! We are both pre-eminent in our field; I suggest that we talk about this like rational men."

A few remarks before we proceed

To those of you who may have noticed how sloppy my blog is getting, what with the idiosyncratic line spacing and odd paragraph structure: duly noted.

I only just realized that when I import text into blogger, I have to re-do the sentence and paragraph breaks, or it comes out looking all cock-eyed.

I promise to be more diligent in the future.

Quebec Dehors!

The veil has been lifted from my eyes and like the song says, was blind,
but now, I see...

Quebecers have it too damn good in Canada to ever willingly leave! A net benefitter of Federal Transfer payments, the province will continue to hold the sword of Damocles over Canada's head as long as it can. The minority, those hardcore sovereignists who favour outright independence --Parizeau comes to mind --can at least be admired for their willingness to cross the Rubicon. I think most soft-sovereignists, who are in the majority, secretly dread the prospect of going it alone. That doesn't stop them from leaving that tantalizing possibility on the table. And every once in a while they make the right noises and rattle the cages in what has become a particularly clever democratic con. Separatism is a chimera, a bluff that has somehow lasted 40 years.

As the only "viable Federalist alternative" the Liberals (both the provincial and federal varieties) also benefit from this shell-game, vowing to defend Quebec's interests in the Federation (read: allow Quebec to continue to take out more than they put into the Federation) even as they raise the specter of the unholy alliance of separatists and those scary Western Conservative-Reform-Alliance freaks who don't represent mainstream Canada. They are right about the Conservatives being freaks, but so what... At this point, I'd vote for the freaks over the crooks.

I think the secret of the separatists' success is to just keep coming up with clever ways of making us believe their impotent little threat is real, while reassuring Quebecers that a vote for sovereignist candidate is really a vote for a voice for Quebec --seemingly contradictory messages.

Every 15 years or so they have taken to holding a referendum (preferably immediately adjacent to another constitutional humiliation), just to remind us they have us by the short-and-curlies. The referendum question is just ambiguous enough that people don't really understand what they are voting for.... Theirs is a policy of uncertaintly, and their domain is a land of bright futures, emotional appeals, and promises never realized.

Ultimately, the separatists devour their leaders as eagerly as they acclaim each successive saviour as they arrive on the scene. We've gone through two supposedly separatist premiers who were too milquetoast to bite the bullet and re-referendum since Parizeau went down in flames a decade ago.

Now, no matter how badly Federalists cock things up in the coming months and years, I predict that Quebecers will not go all in on a clear question in the next Referendum, tentatively scheduled for October 2010. When all the smoke clears, everything will be the same as it ever was, and the litany of grievances can continue.

The man that Ghazi Algosaibi, the Saudi cabinet minister, described as "the dismantler of sovereign nations and destabilizer of whole regions" wrote about the bizarre little polity right across the Ottawa river in a recent issue of The Western Standard.

You oughtta read it, there are some very juicy bits!

At this point, I'm starting to wonder how soon it will be before someone outside Quebec decides to start an expulsionist movement.

Andre Boisclair should be treated humanely by Quebecers -- as in put down like the Humane Society puts down stray dogs.

Two Things:

ONE

John Ivison makes a good point in last Wednesday's column:

One suspects that Gomery's relatively measured language was in part dictated by
his desire not to give the sovereigntists too much ammunition. Regardless, in
the short term, his report should help the Bloc sweep away many of the remaining
Liberal seats outside the federalist salient of Montreal at the next election.
Martin may have escaped censure yesterday, but a near wipeout in Quebec could
leave his hopes of a majority government in tatters. He could still eke out a minority government but, in that event, his life
expectancy as leader would be similar to that of a fruit fly.
For the rest of the country, Gomery has presented a challenge: Are you prepared
to hold your politicians accountable when a judge finds members of the ruling
party were running an elaborate kickback scheme in order to fund that party?
If we are not, we can hardly blame Quebecers if they decide they want no part of
it.

TWO

Maybe we should not want any part of a Province that seems to so maliciously predisposed to take offence at
anything.

Memo to Quebecers outraged by the conduct of the GG: One of your two major political parties wants to elect a guy who, by his own admission, liked to snort the occasional line of coke into his head while he was a Minister of the crown,both commiting a crime and indirectly supporting the activities of Les Hells. The GG made some jokes about it. Deal with it.

The real joke here is a party that would actually consider having this piece of crap for a leader. Pathetic

PQ, please pick this guy as your leader!

November 2, 2005
Gov. Gen. blasted for coke joke

SAGUENAY, Que. (CP) - Andre Boisclair, the front-runner in the Parti Quebecois
leadership campaign, says he is upset by comments made about him by Gov. Gen.
Michaelle Jean.
Jean referred to Boisclair in a speech she gave at the annual Parliamentary
Press Gallery dinner on Oct. 22. In her speech, Jean cracked several jokes about
Boisclair, including one that played on the dual meaning of the word coke, and
saying that Boisclair always follows the party "line."
The event was broadcast on a cable television network.
In mid-September, Boisclair admitted to using cocaine in the 1990s while he was
a minister in the cabinet of the provincial government. But he has revealed few
details.
Speaking prior to a debate between PQ leadership hopefuls on Wednesday,
Boisclair said he was shocked at Jean's behaviour before the 600 invited guests,
including Prime Minister Paul Martin.
"The images speak for themselves and everyone who saw those images understand
that they're out of place," Boisclair said.
"Mrs. Jean was not participating in a private event. Mrs. Jean was participating
in a public event, televised, taped."
Jean's speech, in which she also joked the only reason she was appointed to her
vice-regal post is because she is "hot," has drawn the ire of other PQ members.
Interim party leader Louise Harel and the party's intergovernmental affair
critic Jonathan Valois both criticized Jean's comments as inappropriate earlier
this week.
Boisclair's past has been an issue in the leadership campaign and it was again
before and after Wednesday's debate.
Four of his rivals stated publicly before the debate that the former cabinet
minister should come clean about his past.
"I invite him to stop running away and to answer the questions. He answers or he
withdraws," Pierre Dubuc told reporters. "We can't continue like this."
Another candidate, Jean Ouimet, expressed concerns about what other revelations
about Boisclair's past might come out during an election campaign against the
Liberals.
Boisclair's main rivals, Pauline Marois and Richard Legendre, were not among the
group.
Following the debate Boisclair was confronted with the question yet again at a
news conference.
He told reporters he did cocaine "a few times."
When pressed for more details on the time frame of his use, he replied "seven or
eight years ago."
"Listen, I made a mistake and I regret it very much. But it's a mistake of the
past. A long time ago. I never had a dependence problem," he said.
Boisclair also declined to say who supplied him with the drug and became visibly
frustrated when a reporter asked him if that person had ties to organized crime.
"Honestly, do we ask Jean Charest where he bought his pot from? If the person
who sold him pot had links to criminals," Boisclair said before cutting the news
conference short.

Pure douchebaggery!

Gomery

Here is the comment I would have written on the Canada.com sound off board, if only I had not been at work....

Bravo Allan Cutler!

Remember folks, one honest man helped start the avalanche... More than ever,
Canadians should see the value of a strong public service, governed by ethics
and in the public interest, and politically neutral. The alternative is more
unethical scumbag bureaucrats like Chuck Guité. Guité facilitated the operation of a
parallel unaccountable bureaucracy run by PMO for the benefit of filthy bastards
like the sorry parade of Quebec operatives and politicos that we saw at the
Gomery inquiry.

Even after 13 years of uninterrupted Liberal Government, it is worth the effort
for public servants to remind themselves that they while may work for the
Government, but they don't work for the LIBERALS.

The Liberals are finished in Quebec for a while, I think.

If people are looking for real reasons to fret about the Middle East, I submit for your consideration:

Exhibit A: The first stirrings of civil war in Iraq, and perhaps eventually, in the islamic world between Shia and Sunni

An increasingly Bellicose Iran

Iran has a long term strategic interest in supporting the Shia majority in Iraq, particularly once the yanks are gone, against the Sunni insurgency. However, just about every other neighbouring arab nation is Sunni. Will Iraq be the battleground for islam's version of the Thirty Years' War? With recent sectarian violence, are we witnessing a prelude to the start of a major war within islam?

Duceppe calls for the creation of an army for Quebec. OK, to do what, exactly? In the last two centuries, Quebec Nationalists never saw a conflict they weren't ready to denounce as British or American imperialist aggression... and we all know how things turned out for them the last couple of times Quebecers took up arms...

W's brother cynically uses his skillful handling of Hurricane to crap all over whiny incompetent douchbags from nearby state

From Saint Petersburg times, by way of Cox and Forkum:

Gov. Jeb Bush praised Florida emergency management officials on Monday while
blasting the efforts of Louisiana officials during Hurricane Katrina.
Bush said Florida responded successfully in the aftermath of Hurricane Wilma
because the state relied on the expertise of local emergency managers. He said
relying on federal emergency officials can be a fatal blunder.
"Our system is a bottoms-up system," Bush said. "In the case of Louisiana it was
left to the federal government to fill a void and the consequences are there for
the rest of the world to see."
"This is the model for how to respond to hurricanes," Bush said of Florida.
"Compare this to what happened a month and a half ago in other parts of the
country."

Happy Saint Crispin's day

On Today's date, 590 years ago, King Harry's English whipped some French monkey ass at the battle of Agincourt:

This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian":
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

William Shakespeare's Henry V

Randomosity

I watched the first part of CBC's Trudeau II, which has gotta be the cheesiest and nonsensical title for a this TV movie they could come up with. It's actually a prequel to the Trudeau movie they did with Colm Fiore a while back. That one covered his years in public life. This one covers the years he spent going to university, and his time as a lawyer and left-wing intellectual. From what I can gather from this movie, Trudeau spent most of the war acting petulant and supercilious with authority figures, whining about conscription, and being cold and distant to his girlfriend while Canadian boys were fighting the krauts across France, Belgium and Holland. I note he also spent some time growing a really stupid looking amish beard, traveling the world so that he could hang out in chinese opium dens getting high and learn some yoga. His time bouncing from university to university studying whatever caught his fancy is also mentioned in passing. A disconcerting picture of this Liberal icon emerges: that of a thoroughly unsympathetic provocateur and dilettante --a term he actually uses in conversation with another character when talking about himself.

I'm not sure where the creators of this telepic were going... Are we meant to grind our teeth over the injustice of Trudeau being denied a Rhode Scholarship, knowing as we do what the future had in store for the man? Are we meant to laugh along with the ineffectual "silk stocking socialists" of the Quebec intelligentsia (another term used in the movie) as they mock the hidebound establishment and ossified clergy that propped each other up in the Duplessis years? The main character in this biopic is nervy, restless, unfocussed, moving from one incident to the next without any sense of who he is or what he wants to accomplish

By the end of the first part of the miniseries, I felt pretty ambivalent about the Trudeau character as rather unsympathetically portrayed -- by two different actors, mind you -- and yet, I'm not sure that was the intent of the producers. While the film is far from a hagiography, the several messianic references are too blatant to miss. Not knowing much about Trudeau's life before his meteoric ascent to the pinacle of Federal politics, I can only assume that things will pick up for the guy in the next instalment, which covers the late fifties and sixties, and that the writer and director will get to the point.

Earlier, I watched the Parliamentary Press Gallery Gala on CPAC. That's the annual dinner where the GG, PM, and leaders of the other party give speeches poking fun at themselves and each other. A dorky Canadian roast, I guess is the best way to describe it. I think this kind of thing should be required viewing for voters. At times entertaining, even gratifying, but most importantly, illuminating. A PM normally bereft of eloquence sheds his nervous manner and aggravating stammer to crack a few funny and surprisingly self-depracating and self-aware jokes at his own expense. A stiff cold-fish of a Leader of the Opposition emerges as a witty and genial guy with a knack for mimickry. Even the NDP boss came across as a funny guy, singing a clever little medley of songs about his party's lamentable recent tendencies towards whoredom.

If people could see more of the lighter side of these three blowhards, and if each of them were just a little more natural and frank about their opinions with the electorate... if they could only be themselves a bit more, speak a little more plainly, and pay a little less heed to their handlers and spinners, we might start to have decent voter turnouts in this country.

The Secret Past of Gil Grissom Uncovered

With Cronenberg's A History of Violence coming out in theatres, I found myself thinking about the idea of people re-inventing themselves.

Do many people realize that the bearded, somewhat heavyset, hard-of-hearing shift supervisor with the sardonic gaze on the CBS hit CSI is none other than the star of two of the coolest flicks of the 1980s?

A few years ago, a friend turned me onto Michael Mann's 1986 movie Manhunter, a stylish adaptation of Thomas Harris' novel "Red Dragon", later to be re-adapted in 1992 by Brett Ratner as a "prequel" to Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal. William Petersen, who stars as Will Graham (a role played ably by Edward Norton in the Ratner version), blew me away with his intensity and the compact physicality he brought to the part of the deeply damaged FBI profiler investigating a series of grisly murders.

One year earlier, Petersen played the lead in William Friedkin's To Live And Die IN L.A., a gritty crime drama about a Secret Service agent's obsession with the counterfeiter who killed his partner. I just saw both movies again quite recently and, notwithstanding the dated 1980s soudtracks of each flick, I am amazed at how well both films have aged.

I'm equally amazed that after back-to-back star-making performances like that, Petersen simply disappeared. Here we had a charsmatic, athletic (Petersen went to Idaho State University on a football scholarship), and genuinely talented actor whose career seemed to have real "heat", as they say in the business. Indeed, a role that would have cemented his status as a Hollywood A-lister, a part in Oliver Stone's Platoon, was offered to him.... and he turned it down.

So what did Petersen take on instead? A part in that well known 1987 made-for-TV opus Long Gone. Never heard of it you say? Indeed. And from that point on, no one heard much about Petersen, either. At least until 2000, when he appeared in The Contender, and began playing Grissom on CSI. The rest, as they say, is history

This is an interesting case of someone forsaking stardom only to have it thrust upon him anyway - A man on the cusp of stardom gave it all up, it turns out, because he didn't want to spend too much time away from his family... and ended up getting a second shot.

Good for him!

Politique

My "priviledged" position as a someone "in the know" on certain policy trends currently making waves in the Government prevents me from commenting at length on what I have observed in the past couple of weeks.

But that don't mean I can't hop up on my soapbox to talk politics for a minute or two...

First off, the Dingwall thing. I gotta wonder why they can't just cut the guy loose sans severance. From what I gather, this guy is a second-rate Cape Breton political hack, grown fat through his abilities to exploit the patronage culture that pervades Atlantic Canada (yeah, I said it). A thoroughly unremarkable MP and mediocre cabinet minister under the Chretien regime, I doubt he is in tight with the Martinites. Why the kid glove treatment? Paul Martin didn't hesitate to sack several other Chretien appointees when it suited him, including another former bag-man, Alfonso Gagliano. Does this guy know where the bodies are buried?

Next, Pete McKay. I like the guy, don't get me wrong, but I wonder if he made the right decision in staying with the Federal Conservatives instead of jumping to the Nova Scotia Tories. Full disclosure: we lived on the same floor of one of those awful downtown Ottawa apartment buildings a couple of years ago --the kind that Edward Norton referred to as a filing cabinet for young professionals and old ladies in The Fight Club. Back then, when I asked the then-deputy-leader of the PCs what he thought of the Alliance, he scoffed "Regional Protest Party! No vision for the whole country." If he pulled a Jean Charest, he could be premier of Nova Scotia within weeks, if not months. Instead, he will continue to be second-banana in a perenial second-place party that has stalled out in the polls and appears to desperately need a shot in the arm. It's looking bad on the right side of the political spectrum in Canada right now, folks. Don't believe me? Ask THIS GUY. Maybe Elmer's boy, with visions of a Mulroney-style renaissance (OK, maybe not quite Mulroney style!), is taking the long view and biding his time as his party languishes in the political wilderness.

Finally, pizza. What is the deal with Liberals and controversial pizza? First we had Judy Sgro's problems with the pizzaman, and now, it is outrage over a certain Minister's famous $136 pizza. If this trend continues, stay tuned for a kinky panzerotti sex-scandal to complete the italian-food-scandal trifecta...

Cognitive dissonance

I'm increasingly blown away by human imaginativeness, creativitiy, and our odd ability to brainwash ourselves into holding contradictory viewpoints.

Take for example, these good folks at a recent peace rally in San Fran. You or I could never hope to convince them that the people they are making common cause with view them with disgust and contempt, and some would gladly butcher them like pigs given half a chance. Whereas the state they oppose actually accepts and tolerates their lifestyle choice.

Reminds me a bit of folks who trumpet a woman's right to choose and then lament the demographic timebomb that is ticking away right now, threatening our social safety net. Uh, anyone see the correlation? No babies now means no one to pay mom and pop's hefty medical and pension costs in two or three decades. Immigrants, you say? Ah, yes, lets go abroad and recruit an underclass of young labourers to support our aging baby-boomers and pay increasingly greater amounts into pension plans that will be depleted by the time they are old enough to use them. How very progressive of you!

September 2005 MTP Grads and sweatlodge survivors 

Sweatlodge - Good for what ails ya! 

Near Mont Tremblant - The lake we swam in after our sweatlodge 

SWEATLODGE

Just spent a week in St-Donat, in the wilds of northern Quebec, on a work-related retreat. It was actually the final course of the four-year management trainee program, designed to help with participants' transitions into permanent positions within the Public Service of Canada.

It was one of those-touchy feely courses, all about getting back to nature and getting in touch with your inner self. Normally, I don't go in for that kind of stuff, but I had an upbeat attitude going into the course, and was determined to get something useful out of it. If nothing else, it offered me a week away from work --just what the doctor ordered.

I knew that the course integrated elements of traditional first nations teachings, and having already taken an aboriginal awareness course three years ago, I was interested to see how the "native" angle was going to play out.

As it turned out, I had a truly amazing experience on the third day of the course, when I participated in a Algonquin sweatlodge, led by a local elder. I made an entry in my journal shortly after the "sweat", which I am transcribing here now:

I went for a run this morning. Needed a bit of a kickstart for the day and it felt good to breath some fresh mountain air into my lungs. After a hearty breakfast, we headed out to the site and split into several groups. While the women left to perform some traditional duties (gathering pine bows for the sacred area, and other stuff like that) the men broke into two units. The first group built the lodge out of birch poles and heavy tarps, the second group, the one I was in, built the sacred fire.

After gathering the "grandfathers", thirty-three football-sized stones, in a pile in the middle of the pit, we began piling the logs with care, building a sort of wood wall around them. I reflected on the fact that these stones represented our ancestors, and that their presence inside the lodge would symbolize the idea that our ancestors were in there with us. Denis, the Mohawk warrior and drug addict-turned spiritual guide, spoke to us as we worked, providing us with many fascinating teachings. I really enjoyed the morning we spent together, even though I was thinking about the coming ordeal the whole time.

After lunch, we made our final preparations for the sweat. My own preparation had begun two days before, as I had been thinking and writing alot leading up to moment I would enter the lodge's embrace. Having already gone through a sweatlodge ceremony three years before, I knew what to expect. Most of the others didn't, and it showed in the worried expressions on their faces. We stripped down to bathing suits and bandanas, which all men are required to wear for the ceremony, and walked down to the lodge, towels in hand. After purification with burnt sage, I made an offering of tobacco to the fire next to the lodge that we had built that morning, and that was now a roaring blaze heating the stones until they glowed. I also consigned a roll of birch bark upon which I had written some personal things to the flames. Then, I said a short prayer, crossed myself, and crawled through the small opening.

The heat of that small space is almost unbearable when you first enter. I greeted the ancestors ("Mushums") and crawled over my colleagues to get to my spot near the pit in the centre. A sweatlodge is not very roomy --maybe five feet high and 10 feet in diameter. I was one of the last to come in, and the enclosed space was packed with over twenty people, and pitch black.

To my dismay, I realized that I would be sitting nearest to the stones, so I wrapped my towel around my bare legs and tried to stay as far from the pit in the middle of the lodge as I could. Dominque, the Algonquin elder, spoke a few words, some of which none of us understood because they were in Algonquin, and handed us his medecine pouch, and a couple of other sacred objects. I myself held my own medicine pouch clenched tightly in my left hand. Then, one by one, ten stones, glowing red-hot, were handled into the lodge using a metal shovel and placed in the centre of the pit. With each stone, the temperature rose, and already, some people were gasping and chuckling nervously as we greeted them with the cry of "Kwe Mushum!" or "hello Grandfather!". Then, the flap of the door came down, and the dark, hot space was plunged into darkness.

Almost immediately, two individuals spoke up, asking to be let out of the lodge. Once the shaken participants had made their hasty exit, we settled in for a good sweat. I was actually quite surprised, but at least the sudden departures had made a bit of room for the rst of us, and I took the opportunity to slink to the back of the lodge, away from the glow of the mushums, where I rested my back against the warm canvas of the already-stuffy tent.

The first of the four "doors" was hard on me --a sweat is broken into four doors of varying lengths, between which the lodge is opened, aired out, and more stones are brought in. I felt, to my suprise, a fair bit of anxiety. It took me several minutes to get control of my breathing. From the sounds around me, I could tell, however, that other participants were going through the same struggle I was, and that gave me comfort. Gradually, I felt my chest begin to loosen as I grew accustomed to the suffocating heat. Dominique's words were a faint drone to me, but somehow, I felt like I was taking them in, and taking comfort in them, too. I gripped my medicine pouch ever more tightly as the sweat poured off my body. Water was poured onto the rocks, making them hiss, and causing a great cloud of steam that made the lodge even hotter. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Dominique cried "DOOR!" and light flooded into the dark space as an opening appeared in the side of the lodge and some of the heat escaped. This was the end of the first door.

Then, the exodus. Alot of my colleagues had been shocked by the heat, and disconcerted by the darkness. I'm sure that more than a couple of them also had a bit of difficulty in dealing with what was happening inside that lodge and inside of them--something indescribeable that you could say was of a spiritual nature. Unlike my first lodge three years ago, those who elected to tough it out for the next door stayed inside the lodge... no smokebreaks on this job!

The second door, which brought ten more grandfathers into the lodge to join the ten that were already keeping us company, was also a terrible ordeal, and I realized at some point that I was weeping. I could also feel something raw inside me being scraped away, scoured away in that heat. I guess I was taking care of some stuff that needed to be taken care of... and that realization made me want to tough it out all the more. Dominique began chanting, and soon, many of us had joined him, singing in a language we didn't know, but feeling the meaning all the same. Others were moaning and a few cried out in anguish, probably suffering more, emotionally, if not physically and mentally, than they ever had before. Dominique spoke to us of his life, his beliefs, and the teachings of his fathers. He used a spruce branch to douse us with water, then he doused the grandfathers, and the dreaded steam engulfed us again. Then, just as before, at the moment I was ready to pack it in, the door flung open, and light flooded in.

By the beginning of the third door, when eight more mushums made their presence known, I felt as weak as a kitten. I drank a cedar potion between doors, and didn't mind the taste at all. If the natives say this stuff is good for ya, well... I needed all the help I could get! I was in pain, inside and out, but this was a good kind of pain, a cleansing pain. I though about the suffering of Jesus Christ, and the legion of martyrs who suffered in his name. I tried to imagine their torment, and all things considered, supposed that mine simply wasn't that bad after all. In the healing heat, I think I may just have seen my ancestors. For a minute, I felt like my grandfathers and other people I care about were in there with me, and the thought brought me comfort. I also took solace in the fact that I was with my colleagues, and that we had the support of people outside the lodge, who responded to our cries of "tabac!" by echoing the shout. Tabac was something we had been told to shout when we felt like we could not hold on anymore, and surprisingly enough, hearing the word shouted back to us outside the lodge was a real tonic.

The final five stones joined us in the lodge, which, after several more departures, was starting to get positively roomy. There were only about a dozen of us left when the fourth door began. I had annointed myself with bear grease, which felt great, between the third and fourth door, and I found that this stage, while difficult, was not nearly as hard as the first three had been. As I held hands with the persons to the left and right of me, I started to feel peaceful and even a bit euphoric. Sweat was now bubbling out of my skin and pouring to the floor of pine branches in audible drips as I listened to Dominique's teachings, and as he painted a vivid image of a vision, I saw it all.

To everyone's surprise, at the end of the fourth door, Dominique announced a "warrior" door, and as the flap came back down, he doused us and the thirty-three grandfathers with cedar water,which opened up my lungs and felt wonderful. I was now leaning unselfconsciously on Abder, who was sitting to my right, for support. We both grinned as the door came up a final time, and laughed with relief, bringing the ordeal to a satisfying conclusion. I had squeezed my medecine bag so tight that sweat had soaked it through, and was now pouring through the bottom. The palm of my hand was stained brown from the leather.

As I crawled out of the lodge, I embraced the elder and thanked him for being with us in the lodge. My feeling of euphoria was dampened a bit, when I saw the faces of some of my colleagues who had fled before the end, and now regretted their hasty decision. But, as we were told, we had all been there together, and those outside had allowed those within to stay there by their support and their presence, which had given us strength. I found out that at the very end, they had been physically embracing the outside of the lodge to give us their energy. Truly, a generous act.

After sitting by the sacred fire for a few minutes in quiet contemplation, I went down to the lake to bathe in the cool waters. My skin felt like that of a newborn. Water never felt so good to me. I was reinvigorated, revitalized, and content.

On the way back past the lodge, I thanked Dennis, who had tended the sacred fire throughout the afternoon, for all of his teachings. He smiled at me. I was calm, content, and serene. What an incredible gift we had shared.


Later, we discussed the length of the sweatlodge. No one was sure. According to one of my colleagues who had stayed outside and had their watch with them, the whole thing lasted three hours. I wouldn't have been surprised if someone had told me it had lasted 30 minutes --or 13 hours for that matter. Inside the lodge, time did not seem to exist. It was only when we emerged, like newborns out of mother earth's womb, that the strange wonderful dream ended, and we went back to being what we were: Ottawa bureaucrats on a retreat in the wilds of Northern Quebec

Ottawa. August 28, 2005 --In an epic battle destined for the ages, FRESHMAKERS battled back to claim a 15-14 victory, in the Thursday night Tier 5 consolation semi-final. This "battle for the bottom" match cemented the team's status as a force to be reckoned with among the fitness-challenged elite of Ottawa's Ultimate community.  

Miscellaneous Musings

Does anyone miss "regular" CBC programming? As far as I'm concerned, the lockout can continue... at least until Ron and Don are due back in the Coach's Corner and I can no longer find anything online to fill the void that Rex Murphy's "Point of View" has left.

*******

Normally, all the best content at Steyn Online comes from Mark himself, but this week there is a particularly thought provoking, if somewhat vitriolic letter entitled THE FICTION OF THE 'PALESTINIAN' IDENTITY from some Aussie guy, I think, in the Mark's Mailbox section of the site. Check it out, and consider the critical role of the media and media-savvy agitators in framing the issues of our day.

*****

Sometimes it is fascinating to watch someone's worldview completely transform before your eyes. Precious few witnessed the online transmogrification of some of the most dogged pro-WOT bloggers, who went from amiable mountain bike enthusiasts writing about their favourite trails, to online activists and campaigning with the fervour of evangelists. But the change is there, laid bare for all to see. Recorded in their sites' archives. Go to your favourite "right-wing wacko" sites and compare the postings from August 2001 to those from September and October 2001, if ya don't believe me.

Matt Welch quotes Orwell, and his issues with the Pacifists of his day:

Pacifism is a psychological curiosity rather than a political movement. Some of
the extremer pacifists, starting out with a complete renunciation of violence,
have ended by warmly championing Hitler and even toying with antisemitism. This
is interesting, but it is not important. 'Pure' pacifism, which is a by-product
of naval power, can only appeal to people in very sheltered positions. Moreover,
being negative and irresponsible, it does not inspire much devotion.
On the relationship between intellectuals and patriotism:
England is perhaps the only great country whose intellectuals are ashamed of
their own nationality. In left-wing circles it is always felt that there is
something slightly disgraceful in being an Englishman and that it is a duty to
snigger at every English institution, from horse racing to suet puddings. It is
a strange fact, but it is unquestionably true that almost any English
intellectual would feel more ashamed of standing to attention during 'God save
the King' than of stealing from a poor box. All through the critical years many
left-wingers were chipping away at English morale, trying to spread an outlook
that was sometimes squashily pacifist, sometimes violently pro-Russian, but
always anti-British. ... If you were an intellectual you sniggered at the Union
Jack and regarded physical courage as barbarous. ... Patriotism and intelligence
will have to come together again. It is the fact that we are fighting a war, and
a very peculiar kind of war, that may make this possible.

Parallels can be drawn... I'm just saying....

I'm trying to wrap my head around the whole Iraq thing...

I'm willing to accept the necessity of bringing the enterprise to a successful conclusion on the U.S.'s terms, for all the good that will do --as a Canadian, my support or opposition means exactly jack squat to American pollsters and politicos. But I can't help but notice the glaring inability of the Bush administration to provide a solid rationale that will connect with the American public for their ongoing presence there.

The whole "honouring the sacrifice of those who have already fallen" set of talking points does not seem to be getting across as a justification for continuing the struggle, notwithstanding the protestations of die-hard hawks. Ever since David Frum, an Iraq war supporter if ever there was one, posted an article critical of the administration's current approach to selling (and conducting)the war on August 23, 2005, his online diary has been deluged with readers who share his frustration. The current concern of the neo-cons is that Bush is losing the Public Opinion war in the U.S. to Cindy Sheehan, Michael Moore and their ilk through simple inertia. This is a fight they cannot afford to lose.

Articles like this can provoke an angry reaction from jingoistic chest-thumpers, insensed that some of the right-wing intelligensia appear to be flagging in their support of Bush, but they should also provoke some soul-searching and reflection.

Why is the Bush White House struggling to get a positive message across? Some may think that is because there is nothing positive to report on, but a quick survey of several Warblogs and soldierblogs written by those on the ground in that country paint a compelling picture of some very significant achievements amidst the the litany of setbacks and deterioration that the media has been deluging us with.

Still, there is no denying that we have a mixed bag of good news/bad news/very bad news coming out of Mesopotamia. To me, the increasingly prominent role of Iran in the sectarian violence is particularly troubling. Also, there does not appear to be a long term plan and set of clearly defined objectives --at least none that I can see --just a rather arbitrary timetable for achieving democratic government in what currently appears to be a very unstable country. It remains the task of Bush, Condi, and company to convince the U.S. public to stay the course in a place where everything seems to be falling apart.

As someone in the communication biz, I watch with interest, waiting to see whether or not the Bush administration can come up with a rationale and "storyline" that will convice Americans that what they are doing in Iraq is worth doing, and that the sacrifice of American blood and treasure will pay dividends in the long run.

What happens next in Iraq will set the tone for the prosecution of the War on Terror --or whatever they are currently calling the struggle against radical islamism-- for years to come. Everything hangs in the balance...

He comes from Atlantic Canada...

He is a person of colour...

He works for the CBC...

His contributions to Canadian culture are too numerous to mention...

Ladies and gentlemen of the PMO, for your consideration, Newfoundland's own Raj Binder for Governor General in 2009!

Ever since the CBC went on strike, I have been surfing the web to get info on news and current events...

America needs to know!

concerning the Supreme Court:
The Supreme Court is a lifetime appointment, and America needs to know whether
___JOHN ROBERTS___ supports the GOP's secret plan of a Rush Limbaugh Jesus army
of unwanted, unquestioning fetus zombies programmed to urinate on the Korans of
Guantanamo detainees.

New Spokesperson for the Taliban urges immediate withdrawal of U.S. troops from Afghanistan:

In her first statement since leaving Crawford, Cindy Sheehan speaks at a "Support Our Troops" rally:

Allah ordered us ... to purify Muslim land of all
non-believers,... We are surprised this question is coming from Americans....
American history does not distinguish between civilians and military, and not
even women and children. They are the ones who used the bombs against
Nagasaki.... America does not have a religion that will prevent it from
destroying all people.... We believe that the biggest thieves in the world and
the terrorists are the Americans... We are sure of Allah's victory and our
victory against the Americans and the Jews as promised by the prophet peace be
upon him....We predict a black day for America and the end of the United States
as United States.

Oops... wrong quote. That was noted philanthropist Osama Bin Laden, going off topic, I believe, on one of those taped rants sent to Al Jazeera following the capture of anAl Qaeda operative in the mountains of Waziristan. By the way, I think the enemy combatant was subsequently sent to Guantanamo, where he was urinated upon and disposed off down a toilet during one of the Koran shortages which has plagued the facility.

Here is what the latest standard bearer for the peace movement actually said on Hardball with Chris Matthews:

MATTHEWS: All right. If your son had been killed in Afghanistan, would you have a different feeling?

SHEEHAN: I don't think so, Chris, because I believe that Afghanistan is almost the same thing. We're fighting terrorism. Or terrorists, we're saying. But they're not contained in a country. This is an ideology and not an enemy. And we know that Iraq, Iraq had no terrorism. They were no threat to the United States of America.


MATTHEWS: But Afghanistan was harboring, the Taliban was harboring al-Qaida which is the group that attacked us on 9/11.

SHEEHAN: Well then we should have gone after al-Qaida and maybe not after the country of Afghanistan.

MATTHEWS: But that's where they were being harbored. That's where they were headquartered. Shouldn't we go after their headquarters? Doesn't that make sense?

SHEEHAN: Well, but there were a lot of innocent people killed in that invasion, too. ... But I'm seeing that we're sending our ground troops in to invade countries where the entire country wasn't the problem. Especially Iraq. Iraq was no problem. And why do we send in invading armies to march into Afghanistan when we're looking for a select group of people in that country?

So I believe that our troops should be brought home out of both places where we're obviously not having any success in Afghanistan. Osama bin Laden is still on the loose and that's who they told us was responsible for 9/11.

Yeah... like Homer Simpson told Bart: If something is hard, it isn't worth doing.... now lets all have a big ol' swig of moonbat juice.

TV Crack

My addiction has gotten worse. Within the last three weeks, I bought seasons 1-3 and watched them back to back to back over 14 days. During lunch hour at work, I surf the web for info on season five. I obsess over the minutia of each episode. I find myself wondering whether CTU is part of the CIA, or whether it is part of the Defense Department, for crissake.

As far as I'm concerned, 24 is the coolest thing on TV.

I don't know whether it is because Keifer Sutherland is so perfectly suited to play Jack Bauer, or because, season after season, he is surrounded by the best supporting cast I have ever seen, or because every season, the producers and writers have raised the stakes time and time again with graver threats and more adrenaline-pumping drama... but I can't get enough.

Sure, the show has its flaws. What show doesn't? Increasingly, they have begun playing fast and loose with the real-time factor, so that by season 4, characters can get anywhere in southern California within minutes. Some of the plot twists have been pretty damn lame (the infamous amnesia subplot and the cougar from season 2 springs immediately to mind), and the revolving-door of characters who appear suddenly and are liquidated just as quickly can be irritating at times.

But come to think of it, the fact that no character is indispensible might be one of the show's greatest strengths. this trend was established in the finale of season 1, which featured one of the most daring endings I have ever seen. You really never know who is gonna get there ticket punched. I was particularly struck by the demise of so many significant characters in season 3, including one of my favourites, played by Paul Schulze (Father Intintola from the Sopranos). The way that guy went out was so shocking, I could barely believe what I had just seen.

With Jack Bauer "dead" at the end of season 4, I can hardly wait to see what happens in Season 5. I'll be glued to the boob tube for that season premier. I guarantee it.

Recent discoveries:

Gitmo Authorities fear mass conversion of radical islamists to wicca! Thanks, J.K. Rowling

Clever mulitculturalism satire by Iowahawk by way of LGF.

On the day that we find out that we have, in our new Governor General, "more of the same", the last of a breed has gone to his rest, and this nation will never see his like:

SMOKY SMITH, V.C. Dead at 91.

VORSICHT! BISSIGER SCHWEIN!

BERLIN (AP) — Coming across a 100-kilogram wild animal with bug eyes, a big snout and pointy ears is nothing unusual in many Berlin neighbourhoods.

Up to 7,000 wild pigs inhabit the forests in and around the leafy city and often make themselves at home in residential areas. The result: uprooted gardens, frightened pets and annoyed homeowners.

Marlis Goetze has lived in Eichkamp, one of the most pig-invaded neighbourhoods, for over 12 years. She often takes her golden retriever for a walk in the bordering forest, and says there are lots of the swine lingering around town.

“I am still in shock, I just saw a huge boar in the woods,” Goetze said, making quick steps while leaving the forest with her dog. Often the boars come as close as three metres, she said.

Authorities get some 4,000 complaint calls a year about wild pigs ravaging backyards, tearing up fences and eating their way through vegetable gardens, with onions a particular favourite of the pigs. Learning to tolerate the frequent visitors is part of being a Berliner.

“When you live here you kind of get used to the piggies,” said wild pig victim Peter Bebiolka. Last year three boars dug up his yard and turned it upside down.

“I had to plant new grass but my lawn is still full of humps,” he said. “You can feel the humps when you walk across the yard.”

In the anti-pig camp are Hans and Gila Ruge, a couple who has lived in Eichkamp for decades. “It is absolutely annoying, they come and eat what they can find in my garden,” Hans Ruge said.

This year the pigs — who prefer to ravage yards at night and in groups as large as 15 or 20 — broke into the Ruges’ garden three times. They can easily get in by digging into the ground and pushing up the edge of the fence with their snouts. “Every time they steal my potatoes and eat my onions,” Ruge said.

Derk Ehlert, the city’s administration wildlife expert, says people shouldn’t be afraid of the pigs despite their size. “Wild pigs are extremely peaceful, and only aggressive when they fear their own life is at stake,” Ehlert said.

Sows with piglets can often be more aggressive than boars. While the boars will often be content with a strong push with their snouts, an attacking sow may bite.

Ehlert said the growing population meant that a record high of 2,700 pigs were killed by hunters and cars last year — 1,683 killed during hunting season, while 900 more died in other incidents such as being hit by cars or being shot by city-hired hunters after they cause disruptions such as blocking traffic.

Residents can call for assistance getting a pig out of their yards, but regulations require that city workers must first try to shoo the pig back into the forest. Only when the pig won’t go peacefully or becomes aggressive can deadly force be used.

The biggest mistake people make, Ehlert said, is feeding them. “Home owners often leave their garbage out for days. And sometimes, they even purposely feed the pigs because they think the pigs are so skinny,” Ehlert said.

Feeding wild animals, which makes them lose their fear of people, can draw a fine of thousands of dollars, Ehlert said.

Reports of injuries to people are rare, although several years ago, a sow wandered onto a school playground and aggressively pushed one of the kids, who fell but wasn’t hurt, he said.

“There’s wild pigs all over Berlin but they are very calm and almost never aggressive,” said Marc Franusch, spokesman for the Berlin city forestry department.

“Just don’t monkey with them.”

Shocking news! Soldiers' job is to kill people!

My jaw hung open as I read a recent Globe and Mail Article that quoted statements made by General Rick Hillier, Canada's recently appointed Chief of Defence Staff (Top General):

"We are going to Afghanistan to actually take down the folks that are trying to blow up men and women," Gen. Hillier said.

He also gave a blunt assessment of the role of the Canadian Forces, which he said are designed to protect Canadian interests at home and abroad.

"We're not the public service of Canada, we're not just another department. We are the Canadian Forces, and our job is to be able to kill people," Gen. Hillier said.

Naturally, condemnation was swift in coming. Maude Barlow, Chairwoman of the Council of Canadians and my own personal favourite idiot, responded:

"I'm feeling it's time for people to be as calm as possible. . . . I would love Canada to play a thoughtful, moderating position in this," she said, denouncing Gen. Hillier's comments as "very aggressive."

Naturally -- because when you are going up against the head-hackers and woman-stoners of the Taliban, a gang of thugs who blew up a couple of Canadian soldiers the last time we sent our troops over, it is important to be "thoughtful and moderate". Al-Qaida leader Osama bin Laden was equally thoughtful when he declared Canada a "legitimate target" in March 2004.

Newfoundland-born Hillier, who earned the crossed-swords on his shoulder straps as an armoured officer in the Eighth Canadian Hussars and Royal Canadian Dragoons, is not one to mince words, characterizing the enemy --and that is what they are, THE ENEMY -- as "detestable murderers and scumbags".

This will shock those who think that Canadian soldiers are trained to hand out lollipops, but when I was on basic infantry training in 1994 --a year that saw Canadian soldiers deployed on several peacekeeping missions in the former Yugoslavia and elsewhere -- they were teaching us that the role of the Infantry is to close with and destroy the enemy. To the best of my knowledge, they are still teaching that very same thing.

The General, described as a soldier's soldier, may have shocked some of the Ottawa establishment with his blunt language, but he he is a man who knows what his job is.

--Stephen Staples, a military analyst at the Ottawa-based, left-leaning Polaris Institute, found Gen. Hillier's comments "rather alarming."

"Are we seeing an Americanization of the Canadian Forces?" Mr. Staples asked.

But other prominent lefties seemed to be cool with it. Jack Layton's reaction:

"Controlled anger, given what's happened, is an appropriate response," NDP Leader Jack Layton said. "We have a very committed, level-headed head of our armed forces, who isn't afraid to express the passion that underlies the mission that front-line personnel are going to be taking on.

"A bit of strong language in the circumstances, I don't find that to be wrong."

Jack Layton said that? What the hell is going on? OK, by this point in the article, I'm grinning. In another G&B article, Hillier is quoted again:

"We're not going to let those radical murderers and killers rob from others and certainly we're not going to let them rob from Canada," he said.

He pointed out that during the Second World War, Canadian soldiers did not shy away from fighting the Nazis.

"Did they say, 'No we might be attacked over here if we actually stand up against those despicable murderers and bastards?' No, they did not," Gen. Hillier said..

One question: Where have they been hiding this guy?

I KEED! I KEED!!! 

Triumph the Insult Comic Dog and Eminem bury the hatchet

Eminmem's Ass Like That video has confirmed my suspicion that Marshall Mathers III continues to be a master of image manipulation. About a year ago, he was ridiculed for panicking and shoving a bodyguard in front of him when Triumph ambushed him at the MTV music awards --A video of the incident is available here.

It was later explained that Eminem's momentary discombobulation was supposedly because he was unfamiliar with the puppet-dog's shtick. Fast-forward several months, Eminem has now co-opted (exploited?) the popular character's persona for a hit single and featured the real Triumph in the Crank-Yankers inspired video.

The media-savvy Detroit rapper has walked a fine line over the last half-decade, jousting with the media over accusations of homophobia and mysogyny while juggling three distinct personas on each of his albums: There is Eminem, the main character --a mainstream rapper with real street-cred who relishes his beefs with Benzino of The Source magazine, and Irv Gotti's Murder Inc; there is Marshall Mathers, (Eminem's real name)--the doting father and troubled-man persona who tends towards introspection in some of the artist's more thoughtful songs... and then there is Slim Shady, the juvenile, puerile, vulgar, and borderline-insane dark persona whose every utterance seems calculated to shock. Each of these personalities appears distinct and fully-formed, as far as I can tell, differing in their style of rapping as much as their respective songs differ in their content.

A glance at some of the lyrics on "Ass like that" would seem to set it clearly in the Slim Shady catalogue. But for this song, Eminem has adopted yet another alter-ego: His former tormentor, Triumph the Insult Comic Dog.

I think the reason this song works so well is that Triumph (Robert Smigel's alter-ego) and Slim Shady are cut from the same cloth: They are characters whose outlandish and offensive statements are somehow mitigated by the fact that they are cartoons -- a rubber cigar-chewing puppet and a grotesque parody of a mentally-deranged sociopathic gangster-wannabe: both are so completely absurd and over-the-top that no one can take them seriously.

Throughout the song, Eminem does a pretty-passable imitation of Triumph's distinctive accent and uses many of the acerbic canine's trademark phrases like "I KEED! I KEED!" --one catchphrase that could easily apply to Slim.

In one verse of the song, he raps:

If I offend I'm sorry, please, please forgive
For I am Triumph, the puppet dog, I am a mere puppet
I can get away with anything I sing, you will love it

and in another verse:

I am Triumph, Britney Spears has shoulders like a man
And I can say that and you'll laugh cuz that is a puppet on my hand

Eminem reveals a deep understanding and complicity with the puppet. He knows how to dissociate himself from all the controversy he has churned up, claiming that people who get offended don't "get" the joke: Slim Shady, like Triumph is definitely NOT to be taken seriously. When it comes to Triumph, Eminem gets the joke, because it is the same joke he has been playing on everyone for years.