2012: The Year of Right-Wing Miracles

Last weak, news leaked that President Obama and Prime Minister Harper were secretly negotiating a step towards something I have long advocated: eliminated the border between Canada and the United States.

Our opposition, led by celebrity academic Michael Ignatieff, is confused - nay, wounded - that the government hasn't come clean with them on the secret negotiations.  Iggy asks, "Why does this government want to impose a secret agreement on Canadians without debate? What do they have to hide?"

Here's what's hiding in plain sight Iggy: a campaign platform.  A big idea.  A majority-making move from the government.  Canada is not a land of Maude Barlows, just because she reacts to the idea like its wheat gluten don't mean the rest of us are as allergic. 

Get ready, Iggy, for Campaign 2012.  Its polarizing.  Its a big idea.  And here's the fun-nest of all:

Obama will be campaigning FOR the deal.  You and your Obama-worshippers will not only be fighting Tories - you'll be spitting venom the great O's way.

No wait, there's something even more fun about Campaign 2012:

You.  Today, you were about a deal to ease border congestion in terms of our charter rights.  You lived there.  In Boston.  I'm not making this up.  You were not so worried about your own charter rights and you weren't just crossing the border - you were setting roots in that evil, charter-usurping land.  If Beantown works for you, how come I'm not allowed a hassle free visit?

No leader in the history of the Liberal party is as badly positioned to play the hysterical, anti-Yank card than Iggy Ignatief.

Big Idea.  Obama's backing.  Iggy's inauthenticity.  We's in grand slam country now.

Miracles of Science, The Al-Quaeda Edition

Like any organization in a globalized, competitive landscape, Al-Quaeda devotes an important part of its budget to advancing science and technology.  Medical innovation is a cornerstone of Al-Quaeda's mission and its ambition in that field rivals the Mayo Clinic.

News that Al-Quaeda is working diligently on yet another leap in human medical knowledge should surprise no one.  If the Nobel Prize in medicine weren't so biased in favour of life-promoting medicine and against death ennobling medicine, the devoted doctors of Al-Quaeda would be collecting them the way they collect body parts from failed and successful experiments.

Joining the Club that would Have Me as a Member: Blogging Tories

In my first act as a member of the Blogging Tories, let me welcome myself to the Blogging Tory family.  Getting selected as a Blogging Tory was a gruelling process like nothing I have experienced before.

I believe the hardest part of making the cut was the alien probe.  It seems, ever since wikiLeaks, our supreme leader Karplak of Planet 4 is mighty paranoid about us going off message. So he's ordered thought-control implants for his conservative army.  Aliens, it turns out, have no bedside manner.

The fitness tests were what you might expect: thirty push-ups under a minute and a 7 minute mile. 

We also had a house inspector who came to measure the density of Stephen Harper images in our house decoration.  Since his portrait hangs in basically everyone room, I scored high on that part of the test.

Parker/Spitzer - Diva duel

Today's gossip about trouble on CNN's 8 pm show, Parker-Spitzer, was fun to read.

I do watch the show if the opportunity presents itself.  I recommend everyone watch it.  And, sad for Ms. Parker, the reason to watch is Eliot Spitzer.

I can understand Kathleen Parker's nervous breadown.  She is a brainy babe used to having everyone's attention.  She has never before encountered a troglodyte diva like Eliot Spitzer before.  Spitzer has turned cro-magnon bad-looks into charisma.  He wears more eye-liner than Marylin Manson but still it is his bulging, blooming eyes that have your attention. 

Oh.  And Spitzer had very expensive sex with a hooker.  Of the kinky requests he made, keeping his socks on is the closest thing to normal about him.  That fact doesn't condemn him.  There he is, jutting his chin out like its the Titanic half-way cross the pond, smiling through it.  It becomes another check mark on the charisma charter.  Hutzpah ain't nothing.

Case in point.  The show cuts to commercial but teases us with a trailer for the next segment.  The "political panel" (read: seven shades of commie) are going to say pithy things about how crazy everybody off the island of Manhattan is.  The big line comes from some chick in funk-glasses, who says, "Republicans and Democrats are like my marriage.  I say, 'no sex until you start washing the dishes.'  So now no one in my house is getting laid and the dishes are piling up."

Anywhere, that's just a line.  With Spitzer it becomes an awesome, awkward silence.  You know his knee-jerk response to that joke would be, "what? your husband should have sex with a hooker.  Here are three numbers for him to call.  Tell him to tell the people who answer the numbers that Mr. TV sent him."

But he will stop himself.  You, in the privacy of your own home, can make the comeback for him and laugh a good belly full.