Wednesday

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...

Sunday

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.

Thursday

Peter MacKay...



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

Wednesday

Hero worship

Autumn overtakes us coyotes with all the wit and subtlety of a drunken buncha city cowboys shooting varmints from the box of a careening half-ton. So, it seems, do the ripening fruits of the Cons' comfortable federal majority.

In the flush of their win (A flush that'll rattle through Canada's sclerotic political plumbing until something inevitably breaks... I digress), they've wasted no time ticking off citizens who didn't vote for 'em and items on their long-deferred bucket list: dusting and re-hanging old queen portraits at Foreign Affairs (Minister John Baird is apparently a fan of queens. We have no information if he's a fan of foreign affairs. The evidence is murky. And I've just digressed a second time in one paragraph.) Pushing an overreaching bill to throw money the country doesn't have at crime that doesn't exist. Hiring $90,000-a-day consultants to tell them how to save money. (Now they admit they don't actually know how...?) And oh, hey, doing their level best to rehabilitate John Diefenbaker.

F'rinstance by renaming icebreakers and public buildings, most lately Ottawa's old city hall, now a satellite office of Foreign Affairs, which for decades has lived up the block in the blasphemously-named Pearson building. For the kids who haven't blown us off for Twitter yet, Pearson was a Nobel Peace Prize winner and a diplomat as well as a liberal PM. Diefenbaker's diplomatic coups seem to have been confined to alternately boring and pissing off John F. Kennedy.

Yet vast mittsful of latter day ReformaTories have declared John Diefenbaker their personal hero. I suspect because they were in utero or in diapers in his heyday, so have no personal experience of the jowly old coot. They do not recall why his own embarrassed party belatedly kidney-punched him, kicking and screaming, into extended care.

Certain six-thousand-year-old coyotes were around. And we can tell you. He was a mean-spirited partisan, a quivering, glittering-eyed paranoid whose idea of a really great joke was to verbally acid-wash non-conservatives. His grip on reality was sweaty and tenuous. Many of his policies were logical looneytunes. Long after his best-by, he soldiered on in Parliament, resurrecting petty gripes best left in history's dustbin and hallucinating happier endings for himself.

Oh, ummm, wait... Sigh.

Saturday

I'm the kind of guy who makes Google poems

* I'm the kind of guy who thinks fotos made by fotografers might want to mean something.

* I'm the kind of guy who can say in 100 words what most say in twelve. By choice.

* I'm the kind of guy who likes to ask a lot of people questions for reviews and do my own research before I buy something so I know that I'm getting a quality product.

* I'm the kind of guy that knows the names of the store clerks where I stop and get my daily morning Diet Coke; I'm the kind of guy who will let you in front of me in traffic or in line at the store

* The itching is horrible, but I'm the kind of guy who doesn't seek medical treatment right away. It's not a macho thing.

* Look, I'm the kind of guy who loves to ridicule blatant Monster Hunter rip-offs.

* You have to remember, I'm the kind of guy who has to look that up.

* I'm the kind of guy who likes to sit in a greasy spoon and wonder, “Gee, should I have the T-bone steak or the jumbo rack of barbecued ribs with the side order of gravy fries?

* I'm the kind of guy who strongly believes in doing what you're passionate about to make money.

* I'm the kind of guy who just goes out and tries to catch as much as I can every day and make as much money as I can in every event, and then I sit back and see how that hand plays out.

* I'm the kind of guy who visits a gallery or museum and can't understand the people who see things in art. I just see it as art.

* I would tell you to just stop reading and listen to it, but I'm the kind of guy who likes to keep that sort of thing to myself..

* I'm the kind of guy who likes to take responsibility and I like the pressure.

* Like I said before, I'm the kind of guy who goes about my business and not try to think
about things like that or things that are out of my control too much.

* I'm the kind of guy who says things sometimes just to make myself laugh, but she would just catch me making jokes for me.

* I'm the kind of guy who does a lot of self-expression on my laptop

* I'm the kind of guy who takes pictures of himself.

* I'm the kind of guy who's constantly trying to improve myself by reading up on whatever I can.

* I'm the kind of guy who likes to have my hands in the nitty-gritty and keeping stealthy until having things really, really ready, but I recently reached the point where I realized that I needed to flip the coin and get out of the office

* I'm the kind of guy who… Will wake up to kill a mosquito in the middle of the night, but won't wake up and open the door for someone ringing the doorbell in the morning.

* I'm the kind of guy who fixes stuff only when it stops working, or when its broken.

* On the other hand, I'm the kind of guy who changes my devices every year

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