Going Down is Going Up

On July 29, the Ottawa Citizen reported that a shocked couple complained about three books they discovered on the Ottawa Public Libraries "on order" list. [Citizen Article]

It's not clear who the couple are nor whether they wanted their complaint to be publicized.

This means it is an open question: Are they misguided prudes who don't realize that calls for censorship increase readership and that librarians are freedom-of-speech, anti-book-banning zealots who will hear their complaint as a reason to order even more sex manuals? Or is this couple a pair of devious sex manual publicists?

Whoever they are, I hope they complain about my book when I finally get around to writing it. Even if they don't, I'm grateful to them for making me realize I need to drop my working title: the meaningful little book of life with Jesus.

Get out your library card and click these links to get on the reservation list:

• The Going Down Guide
• The Sex Instruction Manual : Essential Information and Techniques for Optimum Performance
• The anal sex positions guide : the best positions for easy, exciting, mind-blowing pleasure
• The little book on meaning : why we crave it, how we create it
• A Meaningful Life
• A spectator's guide to Jesus : an introduction to the man from Nazareth

Hello Dolly

I wish that I had bought this doll that Gabe, over at Fish on Fridays, made and was selling at Urban Art in Minto Park on July 18th.

It would have made a great pincushion.

Judge: O'Brien Not Guilty

Us: Still Not a Good Mayor, Either...

The mayor of Ottawa remains in office, this morning found not guilty of influence peddling.

I admit that I would not have looked a gift verdict in the mouth, if the guy had happened to go down on this. But the trial has always been little more than a sideshow in the three-ring circus that is Larry O'Brien's mayoralty.

His Nibs seems to view leading a city of a million-plus as an ideal entry-level training position. You know, the kind most businesses give to summer students.

I probably do a disservice to students working their first summer jobs when I say this, but the mayor has, for the past three years or so, been remarkably similar to the overconfident, underprepared greenies who overestimate their clout, intelligence and value to the organization because they lack smarts to see how truly dreadful they are. Except that he, unlike most of them, does not seem to be learning from experience. Although, fueled by near-pathological hubris, he persists in thinking he has.

He's always made the mistake of thinking that private-sector thinking will solve the city's problems. News Flash: the public sector is here to do the important things that the private sector cannot or will not touch. The common good is often unprofitable as hell. There's a reason why the public and private sectors are separated. They're different.

What concerns me most now is that the man will mistake the verdict as complete vindication of his worth as mayor, and carry out his threat to run again in 2010. If the election turns out the same clueless types that gullibly swallowed his uninformed campaign promises the last time around, we're in trouble.

Ottawa would have its very own long-running Lastmanesque burlesque. The mind reels.

Ottawa River Crash: What They're Hiding

In the past couple of days, humorous speculation on this very blog has stumbled uncomfortably close to the truth. Ummm. Confession, here. Somebody's been a very bad dog. Again.

It all started earlier this week, when I realized I had only days to remove a, ummm, surplus military vehicle, acquired more or less on the up-and-up in the 1960s, from the sorta disused garage where I stored it (maybe a little less on the up-and-up) at Rockliffe Air Base. Which sadly, is closing July 31.

I just want to say that back in the 60s, I definitely scooped the cream puff. The low-flying lemons went to the US Air Force and the Smithsonian Institute. In fact, for some reason I strangely can't remember, they thought the thing never flew that well. Heh. It's come in really handy. I mean, how the hell do you think I keep evading Temporary Mayor DT's coyote posse?

It's been parked most of this summer - convertible, y'know, and all this rain. But when I started it up and backed it out that night, headed toward a new rented garage in in the west end, it totally purred. It ran so well, I scooted it up to eight or ten thousand feet and started honking up the Ottawa River in the dark. Much like the local Canada geese.

Up there, I am afraid, my natural semi-mythical exuberance got the better of me. When I remembered the parachute flare in the glove box, it just seemed natural to light it off the cigarette lighter and toss it over the side.

Big mistake.

Sigh. You know most of the rest of it. 911 calls. Constabulary and flashing lights and rescue boats and divers and stuff, all over the place. Then the beefy guys with sunglasses and black suits showed up. You know, the ones with inexplicable military license plates on their black Suburbans, and little radar scanners on top. I rather think the cops were politely asked to lay off for reasons of, ummm, national security.

It's all glossed over now, but I'm pretty sure they haven't stopped looking for me. Forty-five years, and they're still cranky about losing their saucer. Some people never know when to give up. Don't tell, 'kay?

Breaking News: Ottawa River crash debris recovered

Turns out it was just a weather balloon. Nothing to see here. Please move on.