Male Waxing London

Vic Toews: "You're Either a Card-Carrying Tory or a Child Pornographer"

"The time has come," the LOLrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of why I'm Right, which makes you wrong-
'bout damn near everything--
And why we Cons are boiling mad--
And avow that pigs have wings..."

Ottawa Openfile: come unHenged...?

I think I've been admirably patient for a species not noted for its impulse control. But now that we've hit the second week of February flatfooted, it behooves me to ask: What the hell happened to Openfile's OttawaHenge photo contest? The one Trevor Pritchard announced on November 30, with a cash prize, and everythin'?

In the spirit of full disclosure, or possibly enlightened self-interest, I confess that some coyotes are not entirely disinterested in the outcome. Okay, I entered it. The idea of a sunset shining straight down the Sparks Street Mall tickled my semi-mythical fancy.

Also in the spirit of full disclosure, or possibly enlightened self-interest, I will note that I did my trademark lurk at the appointed hour, both of the days in the original contest period when an actual sun visibly set. Having taught numerous Fall Continuing Ed workshops in lurking, I think I might've noticed if anybody else had been doing so avec camera. They weren't.

Again in the spirit of full disclosure, or possibly enlightened self-interest, I confess that this turn of events had me rubbing my paws together in highly unseemly anticipation-slash-glee. I figured my entry had really decent odds, me being the only critter on two or four legs that was there to paw a shutter release.

But, noooooooooo... Mr. Pritchard, the morning of the first deadline, posted that sunsetty goodness had been lacking, so the deadline would change. He did not come out and state outright that there might've been only one entry. Loosey-goosey contest design ain't my problem, but I figured, oh what the heck. Maybe he doesn't run a lot of these. He didn't really post any rules -- ummm, other than the deadline -- so maybe he feels okay about changing contest rules - such as they are - after they're already out there.

Fourth Dwarf asked a buncha pointed questions about this on December 13. Since then, when we've run across one another in a back alley (we're both avid dumpster divers, for different reasons...) I've raised what passes for a querying eyebrow on a coyote, and asked, "Seen anything on an OttawaHenge winner yet?" Each time, he's shaken his head and grimaced, "No". Then we commence to scuffling over the pickin's. Woohoo!

But it's a little weird, ya know? Not the scuffling; the black-hole-like lack of a winner for a contest which was announced with a certain hoopla November 30, even if it was extended. The event's maestro may not have run many contests. I dunno - but the lack of caveats and conditions beyond the entry date was notable. But it seems to me that not setting ground rules beyond an entry deadline does not allow one to move the goalposts - twice - without making a token effort to broadcast who won the damn thing at some point. Sure I feel like the rug got pulled out from underneath me. But I'm a fair coyote. Somebody should win, even if it ain't moi. However badly my id may be pissed, you may surmise that my rambunctiously healthy doggy ego can probably take it.

When the Short Guy, always gimlet-eyed about such things, started asking questions in December, a comment from Mr. Pritchard thanked Dwarfy for noticing the contest. The lad also sidestepped 4D's questions with a degree of native talent which suggests that if this Openfile gig doesn't work out, he's still got lucrative career options writing non-reply reply scripts for federal ministers... but I digress.

Except that on this very blog, Trevor said, and I quote, "...we'll definitely be announcing a winner in January."

That's unequivocal. I believe that Trev, and Openfile, will want to make good on it. Now that we've landed flatfooted in the second week of February, 'n all. Possibly before Valentine's Day...

Chinese democracy, one fiction at a time...

That nuanced thrash-metal philosopher, Axl Rose, famously spent a decade trying to spit-glue together his Chinese Democracy album, an assault on the fictional nature of that concept.

Predictably, it was banned in China, spiritual home of the Staged One-Party-State News Event. North Korea may beg to differ, but I digress.

Here in Canada, between: the PM gettin' his freak on over heavy-handed message control, such that even most senior ministers are only allowed to read canned statements lashed together by half-smart li'l ReformaTory twerps in the PMO's rapidly-expanding Stephen Harper Information Torquing machine (The acronym says it all. But I digress again. To make up for not doing it last post, Ms. Zoom, ma'am...); Other ReformaTory twerps ginning up SunTV as a de facto party organ (heh...); And Immigration Minister Jason Kenney ordering his hapless civil servants to cobble up a, ummm, very special, immigration affirmation ceremony for his very special pals over at that self-same party organ, "And make it snappy!", we might seem to be well on our way toward a solidly domestic version of the Chinese democracy that it took Axl 10 years just to wrap his heavy-me(n)tal bandanna around and write about.

In maybe only a little more than half the time.

An overpowered media vehicle is doing its very best to impose a series of fictions about the current government's deeds, and the country as a whole, upon the mass consciousness. Those fictions, swallowed, would supplant something beautiful, real, and far more inconvenient and messy for current government inclinations.

The hilarity, for the rest of us, comes when that vehicle - inevitably - fishtails violently, busts loose, and screeches, upside-down, into the ditch. Witness the yuks when some StunTV (news?)weasel's brave statement, "Lets do it! We can fake the oath!" was dredged into the actual sunlight. Despite the best efforts of the PM and his gang to make the (real) media lie down, roll over, and beg, they apparently ain't cowed to the point where everybody can look away and ignore authoritarian absurdity.

In the spirit of fairness and balance, I should point out that the immigration minister has disavowed all knowledge. Cool. This has all sortsa well-worn precedent, established by both the fictional Secretary of the Impossible Mission Forces and the possibly-fictional minister's all-too-real spin doctors. Whenever a fiction-based scam goes sideways, the offishul playbook says to pile more fiction onto that sucker like crazy, then hoof somebody who isn't you under the bus. And self-righteously pretend to all and sundry that that little PMO-approved set piece dealt with it completely.

People, repeat after the coyote: "Repetition does not make an untrue thing, right!". Remembering that grouchy semi-mythical coyotes was born with their long pointy noses, where the minister appears to be growing his... as he speaks.

Clement: "Ignore anyone who says I have porked!"

Tony C. Repeatedly busted for inane utterances in defense of a whole string of dodgy, ideology-driven government doofinesses, and porking on the public dime. Again, today, from the looks of it. Yet still fighting a valiant rearguard action against anything resembling reality. Ya gotta admire his sheer, pigheaded tenacity. It's as if he's trying to hypnotize an entire country into not seeing what's as plain as the nose on your face...

The face of classical federalism

You may have noticed the term, "classical federalism" starting to spark up serious mouth-flappin' among the chattering classes. Us coyotes have sensitive sharp schnozzes, and their collective, wonkish halitosis has certainly caught our reluctant attention. Our reluctant peevish attention. It's cold out, dammit! Can't a doggy wrap his fuzzy-ass tail around his sensitive sharp schnozz, doze, and ignore them jerks 'til spring? I digress. Shocking, I know.

Anyway, prime ministerial academic mentor/frenemy/apologist-in-chief Tom Flannagan started shilling it hard again a couple of days ago. There's pushback from other wonks, but it likely won't scuff, let alone dent, the near-fatal lack of self-doubt that afflicts the minds of just about everybody from the Calgary School of political thought.

What Flannagan likes, the PM likes. And neither of 'em really very much seems to like Canada as it stands. Both of 'em really want to fix that li'l problem, so that they - and few others - will finally be able to stand the place.

You know. Turn off the taps for stuff they don't like: standardized national health care, all of that wimpy-ass social advocacy crap, cooperative domestic policy, informed foreign policy, peacekeeping, any actual research that debunks their long-held fantasies of what is Right and Proper.

And turn 'em on for the stuff over which current ReformaTories do become highly-aroused: inappropriate (read: big-ass, yet unsuited to Canadian needs) new fighter jets that deliver far less than promised; legislation demanding a "more robust" (read: big-ass) penitentiary system conveniently not paid for by the feds; a "more robust" (read: big-ass) military that can be sent against anybody of the PM disapproves, based, apparently on his dyspeptic gut feeling; pumped-up military jingoism swathed in drag as popular culture, anon anon anon.

Things, in other words, that drive a federation in a far less cooperative, more mean-spirited direction. In the Canadian context, this type of federalism is not so much "classical" as "radical".* But spray-painting it "classical", lends it a thin, flakey, spurious coat of historical precedent - an attempt to pickpocket a little gravitas, highly, deceptively convenient to those who shill it. Much like a low-buck quickie paint job, meant to blind one to the deep mechanical faults of a seriously crappy automobile being curbsided by an ummm, slightly less than ethical used-car hawker.

Go figure.

* Unlike certain natural resources ministers, we're far too classy to allege without solid evidence that they are, in fact, foreign-funded. But they sure seem un-Canadian to us... heh.

Foreign interests

Last week, the federal natural resources minister, Joe Oliver, came out all rabid attack-doggy on "radical foreign elements" set on infiltrating and hijacking the Northern Gateway pipeline hearings to bring up environmental issues. Some kafuffle, huh?

Northern Gateway would be, if you've had your head buried in the, ummm, sands, these last weeks, a really big pipe for pumping great wads of sludge from the Athabasca tar sands, through some of BC's most pristine remaining wilderness to the west coast, where megatankers (...none, we hope, named Exxon Valdez...) would bug out for China with it.

It's the government's, ummm, better alternative to the now-shelved Keystone XL project, another big-jeezuz pipeline that was designed to pump that self-same sludge through some of Nebraska's most pristine wilderness, and thence to the refineries of Texas et.al. Are you starting to see a theme? And what could possibly go wrong?

Yesterday, in another vaguely-fawning Peter Mansbridge interview, the PM appeared to cool the hot oil cauldrons. Although we should remember that: A) This is a guy who's all about appearance over reality; and: B) He'd have to have approved Oliver's frothy yappin' in the first place. There's a definite strategic messaging advantage in that kind of thing: He looks about as reasonable as he's capable of of - which ain't very - as he sweetly opines that "Canada shouldn't be one giant national park for the northern half of North America."

This is pretty much standard operating procedure. The Prime Minister's Office tells the useful idiots on the back benches and in the ministers' thrones to say the really dumb/incendiary crap, so he can later look prime ministerial while he pours heavy oil on troubled waters.

The troubled waters in this case, though, are in the Athabasca River. As an Alberta doggy, I can vouch for its beauty if you ever get that far north. Not to mention the Beaufort Sea, where it empties. You know. The Arctic Ocean. Where, notwithstanding all those, well-enforced environmental regulations, increasing masses of escaping toxic aromatics seem likely to eventually ooze from the giant settling ponds surrounding a growing bunch of heavy oil mines - pretty much owned by, ummm, foreign elements.

One is China. Judging by the monumentally appalling way that country's government treats its own environment in the name of economic gain, I don't imagine they'd give a rat's ass about screwing up Canada - good - to feed their own strategic oil wants. Ditto the U.S. of A.

If Joe Oliver thinks I'm some kind of dangerous radical for considering that environmental concerns deserve a serious airing in any discussion of the tar sands, let him. He's kind of heavily biased. And kind of wrong. In his own way as much as a fossil as the animals from which all that evil-smelling goo in Athabasca came from. Hey! Maybe he's so defensive about the tar sands because he's related!

Way I see it, Canada being one giant national park may indeed be dreaming in technicolour. But it shouldn't be one giant black national toxic waste dump, either.

Mister Sloppy wishes you all a Joyous HannuKwanzaChristmas...

Mister Sloppy has asked me to convey to you a heartfelt "Merry Christmas!" Given his extensive rap sheet, ummm, history (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), we can only suggest that this sort of unbidden friendliness on his part suggests - strongly - that if you are anyone who carries a wallet, you should check your pants. Just to, ummm, confirm that said wallet is still in 'em.

Now that I consider that advice further, you should probably check your pants anyway. Just to confirm that you are still in 'em...

Mister Sloppy is that good.

Merry Christmas, everybody. And a happy New Year. May your holiday season be pantsful and free of evil-genius larceny. Unless, of course, you're into that.

Not just Il, but dead...

I know we're not supposed to speak, ummm, Il of the dead. Heh.

But i felt kind of inspired. So, here you go. I wasted untold minutes on this. It was very therapeutic.

Now, if you need me, I'll be in the fallout shelter...

Ottawahenge or Ottawagate?

Here's something odd...

On November 30, Trevor Pritchard over at Ottawa.openfile announced a photo contest for photos of the sun setting on Sparks Street to be taken between then and December 5. The prize for the winner would be $75 and a featured spot on their blog.

Early on December 5, Pritchard announced the contest deadline would be extended to December 9 because of cloudy weather.

Later on December 5, our own Coyote posted a photo of the sun setting on Sparks Street taken that day titled "A line runs through it". Coyote's photo shows no clouds in the sky and also shows no other photographers stationed on Sparks Street poised to capture the magic moment.

On December 12, Pritchard announced the deadline would be further extended to midnight on Jan. 13, 2012 because the weather has blanketed the downtown with overcast skies for most of the past two weeks but the sun will be back to setting in the perfect position on January 10.

Pritchard says Openfile has "a desperate need to give away $75", but I wonder how desperate they really are.

We all know Coyote won't actually take the money because it would mean revealing personal information like where he does his banking. But he'd love the attention.

Paging Councillor Bubbles

From the Agenda for next week’s meeting of the City of Ottawa’s Transportation Committee:

COUNCILLORS’ ITEMS

Councillor Tierney

5. ABANDONED SHOPPING CARTS ON CITY PROPERTY - MOTION

CITY WIDE

WHEREAS shopping carts from malls create a hazard and an eyesore when taken off store property and left on City property; and

WHEREAS, there have been numerous reports to 3-1-1 and Councillor’s offices in this regard resulting in the City spending countless hours and resources returning shopping carts to their respective stores; and

WHEREAS the Municipality of Mississauga currently has an existing Shopping Cart By-Law which the City of Ottawa could reference as a template;

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED that the Transportation Committee direct staff to prepare a report for Q1 2012 to examine the costs and benefits of the City establishing a program to retrieve store carts from City property, including the option to bring them to the closest City yard for storage until such time as the respective store owner claims and picks up the carts, and establish a fee for the release of the carts to help offset the costs of the program.

Peter MacKay, still? Oh, what the heck...

Gregg: "Artifice is the kryptonite of public life..."

"We may all have the right to our opinions but we do not have the right to our own facts..."

More about that here in today's Great Gray Globe...

Ottawa - the place to run to

Great news for tourism in Ottawa today. Richard Lee McNair, formerly one of the top 15 fugitives wanted by US Marshalls, has praised Ottawa as one of the best places to be when on the run. [Citizen: American fugitive fell in love with Ottawa, new book reveals]

This is great news because the City can really use a new tourist demographic. We've cornered the regional market for grade eight students doing the annual tour of Parliament and visit to the Museum of Science and Technology, but let's face it, junior high school enrollment is not increasing.

Meanwhile, with the upcoming passage of the Omnibus Crime Bill and its mandatory minimum sentences, we should be seeing a huge upswing in fugitives from justice.

I'm wondering about attractions we can hold out for them. McNair rode the O-train, toured Carleton U, strolled Dow's Lake and the Rideau Canal and went for early morning jogs. It doesn't seem like museums and government buildings were a draw for him.

Any thoughts on what features of our fair town we can advertise or develop further to bolster this new tourist cohort?

[Update: I'm afraid news like this is not going to help.]

Peter Kent: Lost in the Ozone

Here I was, duct tape wadded round my snout to bung yet another frothy yowl on the political class. Although. Truthfully, dignifyin' 'em with the epithet "class" twists the facts awful hard. Screw it. Twisting fact has become their standard operating procedure.

Ergo I rant. Bear with me.

Back in Alberta, even now, remain fans of a last-century band of psychedelic rockabilly space cowboys called Commander Cody And His Lost Planet Airmen.

They're an acquired taste. And perhaps better known for other songs. But us coyotes wish to dedicate Lost in the Ozone Again to alleged federal environment minister Peter Kent.

Who didn't seem to be an idiot back when he read the news on TV. Shows what half-assed-decent research and scripting departments can do for a guy... and, whoopsy, there's my tradmark digression. Blink and ya miss it.

As a news person, Kent was about getting facts right. Now that he's federal environment minister, and so a front-row sock-puppet for the Stephen Harper Information Torquing machine, not so much.

Pete is lately pinned in the high beams of an expert advisor's memo that, ummm, pretty much negates his excuse for axing half of Environment Canada's critical ozone monitoring system. He says both parts are the same, so he'll cut one. Since Kent has so far not proven that he even knows what the hell ozone* is, this does not comfort. Especially since the actual, ummm, expert, is adamant there's no duplication: both form halves of a coherent whole.

Coherent? Can't have that! Whenever Harper Government spin faceplants against reality, the first instinct is to kill it, and the messenger, to remove any threat to his beeyootiful conservative ideomythology. It's Statistics Canada and the long form census all over again. Harperites don't seem to care how bush-league lame they look while they put the boots into reality. And citizens. And really, the whole planet.

* For the science-illiterate among our federal ministers, ozone is a type of oxygen molecule in the high atmosphere, that reflects a whole lot of the ultraviolet rays in raw sunlight. Which prevents people and other living things from suffering multiple horrible cancers whilst frying and dying from solar radiation. At least on my planet...

Ode to beavers

Who could ever forget the Elgin Street Irregulars' historic, heady foray into the (very likely lucrative, if we'd ever actually winched our notoriously incoherent act together...) BeaverBalls™ biz?

Yup, we've long reserved a warm spot for Castor canadensis and his charming, if strange, habits. Such as (allegedly) eating his own testicles when threatened.

So, it is with a certain, ummm, proprietorial disdain that we tee off to trash conservatory senator Nicole Eaton's (ev)ill-conceived proposal to replace Our Illustrious National Rodent with some polar bear.

If beavers were ever to actually chew off their own business to spit at somebody, they might wish to begin with Ms. Eaton.

Her cover story is that the Beav is a "dentally defective rat". We need barely slow down to point out that slagging rats places her in the position of badmouthing many sitting members of her party, before hitting the gas to note that the more plausible reason for her libel of our furry pal is that, while he's claimed squatters' rights to the national identity for centuries, he was only officially installed in 1975. Under, you guessed it, Pierre Trudeau's Liberals.

It takes no genius to see that the focus of the Harper Government™®© since gaining its coveted strong stable majority™®© ain't so much the stupid economy as tearing down, stomping, burning, shooting and pissing on any and all things liberal. And calling it nation building. ™®©.

So despite the senator's cutesy persiflage, we can, ummm, probably agree that this is one more case of these guys' systematic scorched-liberal policy, as they try to replace all those inconvenient decades of collective national memory with (yet more) crap, artfully spin-doctored from the whole cloth.

Do I have to stoop to quoting literary classics, like some intellectually-bankrupt Ottawa Citizen columnist? Yes? Crap. Okay:

"If all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed—if all records told the same tale—then the lie passed into history and became truth. 'Who controls the past' ran the Party slogan, 'controls the future: who controls the present controls the past."

You already know the book. Oh, never mind. I digress

Base image: Wikimedia Commons

Try to occupy *this*

Most mainstream news media (and current perversions thereof... but dear me, I digress...) can't seem to wrap their collective consciousness around Occupy Wall Street and its offshoots.

As OWS went globally local this past weekend, they're finally trying to get to it — but news TV's hair and teeth types continue to deride and whinge over what they see as Occupy's deal breaker: no focused definition, agenda, leader or spokesperson.

Thing is, media and other big-organization complaints are more about fossilized reporting conventions than Occupy's relevance.

See, sometime mid-late last century, many media honchos and theorist types actually fretted about balancing news coverage (so quaint!) in the screaming dive toward daily deadlines. The only way they saw to do that real fast was to pigeonhole every story into a prefab template. One US network news president famously wanted to stereotype every item as a black hat/white hat Old West shootout. Somewhat more thoughtful types — well, okay, media theorists* — felt you might run to maybe a half-dozen prefabs. Still amounts to fillin' blanks with dates, names, a few telling details. Voila! News story! Like any sausage machine, it works adequately as long as you don't get all hung up on finesse.

But to get names and telling details in nanoseconds, which is all anybody on a 24 hour news cycle budgets for anymore, ya gotta have easily-contacted traditional organizations with official spokesthingies, cued to bark out bullet-point "positions" in predigested clips.

It's why many news items are tiny, dumb cartoons. It's also why many are spun to hell by the groups that can pour money into blendering up self-serving bullet points like so much liquid pig shit tasty frozen martinis and firehosing 'em at reporters.

So, the major objectors to Occupy Wall Street's style: people in news who want fast chicken nuggets to slot into a standard story; and people and groups holding some traditional form of power, who seek potshot targets with which to neutralize — or better yet, blacken and bury — a movement and retake what they see as the agenda. To occupy Occupy, as it were.

I'm pretty sure that OWS' amorphous squishiness is as frustrating to old media as its very tangible if unfocused discontent is to business-as-usual forms of power. This rabble ain't so easily cartooned or contained, when you can't find rabble-rousers or messages to pinpoint bomb. Could explain why Occupiers are covering their own revolution rather well in diffuse outlets like Flickr, Twitter, Facebook anonanon. Unhindered by convention, they get it. Anti-antisocial media at its best!

Coyote News, though we sometimes fly with the turkey vultures, is cool with it. Because it really, really pisses off political types desperately seeking some easy in, to either smear or co-opt the whole thing. And our embarrassing, illegitimate cousins at Fox and Sun, ummm, News. Did we mention them? Kinda flailing at the whole discrediting thing. Snicker...

* You, my doggybloggy reader, are of course so interested in this stuff that you will read further, maybe something like Making News (Gaye Tuchman); Deciding What's News (Theodore Gans), or Discovering the News (Michael Schudson). Because you're not the type to take your entire daily news/info/bloggossity hit on a smartphone in that two-minute lineup for your latte. You're better than the mere latte-rati...

In the blood.

Repeating a Harper Majority Government (™,®,but especially ©...) mantra that already glitters with either the polish of hard wear or that sparkly Twilight vampire crap, the federal anti-labour minister has ordered Air Canada's flight attendants' union straight to a procedurally-sketchy Industrial Relations Board arbitration tomorrow. Do Not Strike. Do Not Pass Go. Definitely Do Not Collect $200.

She opines (again) that these people must not be allowed to hurt the economy. Probably better than when she opined that "cancer is sexy," huh?

"These people" took a 15 per cent pay cut back in the day when Air Canada was hurting, and are still starting out at a monthly wage that barely covers a so-so one-bedroom apartment in downtown Ottawa, never mind the food and utilities. Forget cable. Even basic.

But, hey! If you could afford that hookup, the new retrosoap Pan Am's success would prove that the job's glamour still totally makes up for the poverty, obscene shifts, and antediluvian management. Right?

Apparently it's okay for these people to hurt, as long as "the economy", usually limned as some kind of shadowy, all-powerful, yet strangely fragile third person, does not. This quasi-person must be protected with the kind of dumb, short-term union-shafting tactics that, down the line, inevitably will lead to bunch of (here's an economic term, for, ummm, trained economists...) pent-up demand. From labour.

It has apparently not yet dawned on too many Harper Majority Government (™,®,but especially ©...) types that the economy is made up of individuals. Like, say, flight attendants. And that if you pull this shit enough, they'll eventually get pissed enough to come back at ya.

About the first time Lisa Raitt started dropping legislative howitzer rounds on any union that even smelled like it might be thinking about a strike, she began to tell interviewers that she grew up in an old-school union family in Nova Scotia, that her affinity with labour was "in the blood".

Was it really only this past June that she could still pull that one straight-faced? At the time, the great grey Glob said she was "an awkward foil for critics portraying the Conservative government as an enemy of Canada’s labour movement."

To establish that article's background (and to launch my now-trademark digression, a full nine paragraphs late in my books...) one must note that its top photo is of Ms. Raitt, sportin' what looks, to my jaundiced yellow eye, suspiciously like a blue sweater, and, ummm, cuddling an expedient kitten.

In retrospect, that should have been the only tell that we really needed, to give context to her poker-faced claims to blue-collar cred...

The struggle continues

This week, there's a new tear in the fabric of downtown Ottawa.

Zoom writes about it here. I don't have anything to add to that very fine obituary, except to think that Elmaks, of Swap Box Ottawa fame, deserves to be recognized one more time in our blog space, as well as Zoom's. And in a lot more places as well.

RIP, Elmaks. Thank you. The struggle continues... and the rest of us will remember you well.

Peter MacKay...

...Never a man to back away from a Challenger...