Sunday, September 21, 2008

Cotton & Peggy


The brilliant Chris Kelly at the Huffington Post has nailed the McCain thing:

John McCain doesn't actually believe anything. He's just belligerent. And he's not a conservative, or a liberal, or a maverick, or a Hutterite, or anything much, philosophically, one way or the other. He's just the 2000 Year Old Prick.

And this was before McCain picked Palin.

It finally occurred to me what we have in this odd couple: war hero-cum-prick Cotton Hill and his daughter-in-law Peggy, from King of the Hill.

Palin of the Day: Gold Wing



Saturday, September 20, 2008

Ritz Cracker


"Please stay and enjoy yourselves, but I have to warn you, the 10 o'clock show can get pretty blue. Oh, and try the veal."


Just when I think that Canadians might be wary of giving a majority to Harper, along comes the Canada's latest stand-up comedy sensation, Llyodminster's own Gerry Ritz, Minister of Food Humour. This listeriosis thing at the Maple Leaf plant that's killed a dozen or so people? Well, when you really think about it, it really is very funny, isn't it? Ritz riffed that the failure in the food safety system was causing the government a death of a thousand cuts "or should I say the death of a thousand cold cuts."

After the guffaws died down, when told that one death was in Prince Edward Island, the Ritzster hit it out of the park: “please tell me it's [Liberal agriculture critic] Wayne Easter" (who represents one of the ridings in Canada's toy province).

Ba-dum!

Last week, Harper moved swiftly to bring the hammer down on the guanofacient puffin and the wise-ass tiny Tory who dissed the father of a soldier killed in Afghanistan. With Ritz, he's decided to let it pass, saying that the remarks were part of a private conversation. But since when is a conference call with members of the Canadian Food Inspection Agency deemed private?

What this shows is exactly why Harper has garnered such a reputation as a controlling tightass. It has occurred to more than one person that he needs to be Minister of Everything because his caucus, generally speaking, lives in the shallow end of the talent pool. In one sense, this is not surprising. Just as Americans are awakening to the realization that if you elect people who tell you that government is useless, you end up with useless people in government, so too the Tories are short on people who actually want government to work. Thus we get a cabinet with such noteworthy lightweights as Gordon O'Connor, Bev Oda, Gary Lunn, Rona Ambrose, and of course, matinee meat puppet Maxime "my gal's rack is bigger than yours" Bernier. Even the unlucky-in-love Peter MacKay looks positively Prime Ministerial compared to these mopes. (MacKay enjoys the unique distinction of being one of the only men to have been dumped by his girlfriend not for another man, but for another political party.) Even jet-skier and rollerblader extraordinaire Stockwell Day, who thought the Niagara River runs from north to south and (to steal a line from Warren Kinsella) that the Flintstones was a documentary, has become a model of gravitas in comparison. So threadbare is the Team Tory bench that the only person Harper could find to replace Bernier as foreign affairs minister was David Emerson, who won his seat in the last election running as a Liberal, and is, sensibly, not running again. As for Gerry Ritz, here's a poli sci pop quiz for you. Until he made a name for himself in comedy yesterday, how many of you could say you knew who Gerry Ritz was? Enough said.

The Bernier mess illustrated one of Harper's big challenges: to find enough Quebec names to add to his cabinet. Hence the concerted effort by Harper to make nice with Quebec's soft and hard nationalists. To hear Harper speak now to them, you'd think that an Alberta firewaller and a Pequiste from the Saguenay were two peas in a pod. Unfortunately, this is, as it was when Joe Clark and then Brian Mulroney pursued it as a strategy, a marriage of political convenience rather than any real sharing of core values, a classic case of the-enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend.

I am old enough to remember back to a time when Conservatives were widely regarded in Quebec as largely unsympathetic to French Canada, if not outright anti-French. When the Liberals dominated Quebec federally under Trudeau, there was little room for a federal conservative party in Quebec. Small-c conservative opinion in French Canada did not gravitate to the Tories, and was largely consigned to rural Quebec and largely represented by the Union Nationale provincially (or should I say "nationally"?) and the Creditistes federally. It was only after these parties disappeared that the Tories were able to make inroads in Quebec, culminating in Mulroney's strong showing in Quebec in the 80s, when the PCs (as they were then) had the help of sovereignist PQ pavement pounders and door knockers. Then there was the Meech Lake fiasco, followed not long afterward by the splintering of the Tories. The Quebec-Alberta marriage under Mulroney ended in bitter divorce.

One of the animating impulses for the Reform party was outrage at what was seen as catering to the whining of Quebec for special status. Think back to the referendum campaign when Preston Manning persistently pressed Chretien to accept that a 50%+1 vote for sovereignty was enough of a threshold to permit Quebec to leave Canada. If one didn't know any better, one might have thought that Manning was just as happy to see the back of Quebec, and that if a yes vote in the referendum came along, well, then, sunrise, sunset. Quebec's more statist model and less-than-fundamentalist social tolerance were always anathema to the likes of Manning and Harper. If, as Harper once said, "Canada is a Northern European welfare state in the worst sense of the term," Quebec would certainly have seemed even more so.

So it was amusing to see Harper taking advantage of every opportunity to kiss Quebec's wet spot, reminding them that it was he who stood up in the Commons and passed a resolution that recognizes them as a "nation," something mistakenly thought by a lot of nervous federalists to be the third rail of politics involving Quebec. Given the vitriolic response that the phrase "distinct society" evoked in the Rest of Canada in the time of Meech, this must make Conservative hair stand on end in certain quarters of Not-Quebec. However, as Chantal Hebert of the Star notes, Harper has come to realize that by simply uttering the sentiment that Quebec is a nation (a far more loaded term than distinct society, imho), he has sucked most of the oxygen out of the sovereignist project. Support for PQ-style sovereignty-association or independence in Quebec is at its lowest in recent memory, which means that the Bloc Quebecois stands increasingly exposed as clapped out. Bloc head Gilles Duceppe, I suspect, has nightmares starring Stephen Harper speaking in French and drawing cheers. It must gall him to see an Albertan come into town and pick off disaffected nationalists. Maybe he should try something bold, like propose that Canada is a nation. After all, he has a tidy Canadian MP's pension to worry about.

Some indication of how eager Harper is to stroke Quebec is his recent bizarre announcement that he will enshrine the practice of alternating French and English-speaking chairs of the CRTC. However, since the creation of the CRTC, the chairs have alternated between English and French speakers with one exception, when Konrad von Finkelstein (I'm betting he's not a francophone) succeeded English-speaking Charles Dalfen. Who was the nefarious PM who snubbed French Canada when its turn came? Hint: His name rhymes with Bleeven Darker.

Interesting political appeal: "Elect me: it's the only way to stop me from screwing you again."


Sunday, September 14, 2008

Harper Valley SFA


Although the American election is the more fascinating and consequential, we also have an election here in Canada. The once sulky doughboy of Canadian politics, Stephen Harper has transformed himself, if you believe the laughable ads showing him in a blue sweater, into Mr. Rogers.

[Stephen Harper has dropped in for a visit with Mr. and Mrs. Sensible Shoes in Potemkin, Alberta. Sitting on the edge of the settee, diabetic music dripping in the background, and forcing a gluey rictus, he intones: "I think families are just about the keenest things there can be. I have a family, you know. Sometimes we sit around and play cards." Shit-eating voice comes over: "Stephen Harper. Not a resentful block of wood. A leader."]

When I saw the first fuzzy Harper ad in the pre-election days, what immediately flashed to mind was the image of Boris Yeltsin boogalooing his way to re-election in the mid-90s, with the help of hired hands from the U.S. There he was, in shirtsleeves, up on stage with some pop tart, shaking his booty and all eight of his fingers, sweating, letting his inner lumpkin out, doing his version of Clinton-plays-the-sax. Not surprisingly, he won (as did Bill). Both saw how merging politics and showbiz could work to change the channel and divert the electorate. Of course, Boris didn't need to change channels; he controlled all of them in the shiny new Russian plutocracy.

We have, in Canada, the mirror image of the political situation as it stood in the 90s. This time, instead of the right being fractured, it is the centre-left. One sure sign that the Conservatives are thriving is the spectacle of the NDP leader going around saying he should be seriously considered for the post of Prime Minister, something that looks like a bit of a long shot for Jack Layton. This situation is made possible only because Stephane Dion has been unable to connect with enough Canadians, if recent polls are any indication.

This is a pity in a way. Dion is much loved by anglophone federalists in the Liberal party for his part in challenging Lucien Bouchard in the years following the referendum, keeping Bouchard and his successor Bernard "Red Rag" Landry, on the defensive. In the process, though, he cemented a reputation in much of Quebec as a vendu, and to this day, he is widely loathed in his home province. It certainly says something about his courage that he has persisted in the face of so much ill will in Quebec, never bowing. Nevertheless, he has not, over the two years he has had to prepare the Liberals for an election, connected with Quebec enough to stave off the likelihood of a big harvest of seats for Harper in Quebec ["J'ai une famille. C'est vrai."] If this happens, we are into a Tory majority. Only the spectacle of spittle-flecked Reform Party hyenas being let out of their cages to howl about abortion and the triple-E Senate, and accuse people of supporting child porn, as happened in the 2004 election, will be enough to forestall a Tory majority.

The events of the last week have not done much to dampen such fears. The puffin taking a crap on Dion was straight out of the dying days of the Ontario Tories' Common Sense Devolution in 03. Harper had to step in and apologize for both the crapping puffin and for the sleazy imputation by one of his zeal-bots that criticism from the father of a soldier killed in Afghanistan was to be taken with a grain of salt because the dad was a Liberal supporter, so what does he know? Anyway, the perverse effect of these "gaffes" is to burnish Harper's self-styled reputation as a decisive leader. In fact, it is certainly easy to imagine this crop of Tories staging examples of Harper riding herd on his collection of mouth breathers, reassuring voters in the centre that he has banished the fanatics. Having a reputation as a control freak works for him here.

The meltdown of the American financial system will also help Harper appeal to nervous voters, who are not likely to migrate to Stephane Dion's Green Shift, let alone to Jack Layton. However, that could easily change if there are any more serious reverses in the economy and Harper looks as powerless as any of the other party leaders to do anything about them.

All in all, a bad news week if you think a Harper majority is bad news.

As for the American contest, the ongoing self-inflicted soiling of John McCain's name is, if nothing else, grist for many a playwright or novelist. Oliver Stone would be a fool not to do a McCain picture, say, in eighteen months. By that time, he will have been in the political wilderness for a while, or he is President. As it stands now, there is a frisson of fear among many nervous Democrats that McCain will repeat what Poppy Bush did to Dukakis, create fake controversies over hot-button social issues to distract from larger issues.

It is chilling to reflect on the Repugnicans' propensity to nominate tickets with one quite apparently capable person and one complete loon, and if I were the producer of the Andy Griffiths Show, I'd sue the bastards for ripping off the Andy/Barney Fife dynamic. W's daddy did it with Dan I-Can't-Spell-Potato Quayle. In W's case, the genius idea was to put the "genius" in the Naval Observatory and the idiot in the White House. With the McCain-Palin ticket, it is truly hard to decide who is supposed to be the leader, and who the clown. Is it the guy who vetted her for all of fifteen minutes, or the woman who, until she is reprogrammed by Dr. McCain-enstein, will go on saying the same patently false things? Instead of the intrepid leader of the Alaskan National Guard being with her troops in Iraq, we get Sarah being able to step over the Iraq-Kuwaiti border so that she could say she was in Iraq. That would be as far as she got.

The Obama campaign, to its credit, is fighting back in the ad war, but every time they have to respond to McCain, instead of making McCain respond to them, they let McCain define the campaign. The question then becomes, if McCain sets the agenda of the campaign, do you let McCain continue to act like the snivelling sell-out he has become, and let the American people judge what they see, and hope they will be as revolted as you are? It's a big risk.

In any event, one hopes that come election day, all Americans will look around them and see what has happened to them over the last eight years of extremist Repugs running the store.

Palins of the Day: I know I have fallen behind, so I will make up for it with a few:

Suvie, Wiper, Flit.


Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Never Did No Wanderin'


Via Harry Shearer's Le Show, we find that the Times (the UK one, not the NY one) reported that Track Palin is so named because he was born during, you guessed it, track season. Had he been born during basketball season, he was to have been named Hoop. Sister Piper Palin, whose middle name is Indy, was named after a snowmobile. I am not making this up. 


Earlier today the Washington Post reported:


Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin has billed taxpayers for 312 nights spent in her own home during her first 19 months in office, charging a "per diem" allowance intended to cover meals and incidental expenses while traveling on state business.


Palin of the Day for today, then? Mooch.


Palin of the Day


Perhaps you were as taken as I was by the arrival of Sarah Palin, pistol-packin', moose-dressin', bear-guttin', snowmobilin' hockey mama from Alaska, and her bizarrely named brood:

• Track, (named presumably after her favourite sport in high school. Presumably he is grateful that mom didn't excel in Tiddly-Winks.)
• Piper
• Willow
• Bristol
• Trig (named after her favourite subject in school? I'm betting not.)

The alliterative pair Track and Trig are the boys. Track, we are told, enlisted in the army last September 11, and he is shipping out to Eye-Raq on September 11 this year. What an incredible coincidence. Trig is still a baby, born in April this year, and has Down Syndrome. He (along with the rest of his sibs) featured prominently as a prop throughout the Republican convention, clasped up against a baby blanket held throughout by 17-year-old sister Bristol.

Bristol, of course, made her own news when it was announced that she took time out from her busy high school life last spring, perhaps to celebrate the arrival of Trig, to get impregnated by boyfriend and hockey yahoo Levi Johnston, who was then duly packed off to St. Paul for display at the convention, like livestock at the state fair. Johnston thus goes down in history as the first human ape ever to be brought to a Republican convention expressly because of his proficiency in underage insemination. Like I say, kind of like the Royal Winter Fair we have up here. Anyway, if Bristol is to follow in Mom’s snowmobile bootsteps and name the child after her favourite high school sport, can we look forward to a bouncing baby Boink? Just askin'. (update on baby-naming rationale in next post)

Bristol, we are informed, made the choice to marry Levi and have little Boink, something that Mom Sarah, should she ascend to the presidency, would try to deny every other family (choice, that is).

Sarah, according to Wikipedia, "eloped" with her high school sweetheart Todd at the tender age of 24. Frankly, I suspect a typo. How one "elopes" at 24 is a mystery that will have to be deferred to a later meditation. For now, look for a new feature, to be posted daily or nearly so, called Palin of the Day, in which we feature the names of the rest of the mythological Palin clan.

Today’s Palin of the Day: Strep.