Saturday, January 31, 2009

The Canadian Cat Meat Marketing Board

This is the single most outrageous and upsetting thing that has ever happened to me. I am filled with outrage. My simple lunch of prunes in oatmeal, tea, and scotch, sits uneaten. I have no appetite for food, and can only tolerate liquids. My right foot is shaking, and no amount of massage with sandalwood scented massage oil and the talented fingers of Sonjia DeSade can soothe my righteous, er, leftard, outrage. Oh, how my ire is irked. Even my adorable house cat, Mister Whiskers, has fled to the sanctuary of his perch at the top of the front room curtains.

Throughout the internet, scolds are critical of that Kinsella guy for being a two faced pundit for making fun of some protected group. He is exposing them to hatred and should be hauled up by the HRC except that he is a member of the aristocracy. But the real issue is the hatred directed at legitimate consumers of cat meat. Just because our evil heteronormative Christian Canadians did not eat cat, somehow it is wrong. Well, let us realize that just because the white racists do not eat cat that does not mean that anyone who eats cat is wrong, or bad, or not to be given handouts.

Lots of people do eat cat. They also eat dog, goldfish, and gum from the underside of library tables. It is wrong to judge people based on the standards of other cultures, especially if that culture is somehow white, christian, heteronormative, or values the work ethic. So when someone suggests that eating house cat, or dog, or worms, is wrong, well, like that restaurant guy that wants to have his employees wash their hands after they get feces on their fingers, they are racists.

It is time for the Liberal party to rally behind the forces of political correctness and embrace diversity and listen to the voices. Liberals, listen to the voices. Eating cat is not 'wrong'. Just because the racists who pay taxes disapprove is no reason to not seize this opportunity to undermine western culture. I call upon those who are political brothers, sisters, and othersexuals of Kinsella to support his right to say whatever he wants without responsibility, and to extend that fundamental human right to all members of designated groups, so that those that pay taxes can learn to shut up and celebrate freedoms for some but not all. This is the politically correct way.

A large bureaucracy is called for. Jobs for activists, devoid of the evils of ability. Hiring based on race, color, or creed. Renumeration divorced from accountability. This entity shall be called the Canadian Cat Meat Marketing Board, and it shall have its finger in every pie. From organic cat meat producers, to sustainable cat meat cat food producers, to research grants to ivory tower pencil pushers who produce nothing, all taxspenders shall wallow in the funding, and the evil racists who grumble about the squandering of resources shall be pushed deeper into oblivion through socialist taxation.

Support the Canadian Cat Meat Marketing Board. Jobs for activists. Taxes for everyone else.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

xpd Mitchieville, DustMyBroom, The London Fog

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Friday, January 30, 2009

Rhythm, Sound, and Compensation

I move several long plane rides away from London after living there for almost three decades, and what should happen next?

Fenris Badwulf, he whom literary history will record as Canada's signature satirist of the first quarter of the 21st century, moves to town.

Then, you guys get a Kathy Shaidle and Salim Mansur chat.

I suppose that next month I'll find out, say, that Billy Beck is doing lights for a one-time-only-ever Talk Talk reunion show at the Aeolian Hall. That would be about right.

London, why persecutest thou me?

At least Rhythm & Sound with Tikiman were playing here in Wellington last night... that went a long way to making up for missing the talk.

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Tuesday, January 27, 2009

A 50-year history of public education

Teaching Math In 1970

A logger sells a truck-load of timber for $1000.
His cost of production is 4/5 of the selling price.
What is his profit?

Teaching Math In 1980

A logger sells a truck-load of timber for $1000.
His cost of production is 4/5 of the selling price, or $800.
What is his profit?

Teaching Math In 1990

A logger sells a truck-load of timber for $1000.
His cost of production is $800.
Did he make a profit?

Teaching Math In 2000

A logger sells a truck-load of timber for $1000.
His cost of production is $800 and his profit is $200.
Your assignment: Underline the number 200.

Teaching Math In 2009

A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is totally selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands.

He does this so he can make a profit of $200. What do you think of this way of making a living?

Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers. If you are upset about the plight of the animals in question counselling will be available)

Teaching Math 2018

أ المسجل تبيع حموله شاحنة من الخشب من دولار . صاحب تكلفة الانتاج من > ! الثمن . ما هو الربح له

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Forest City Institute: Speaking Out For Free Speech 2009

In response to the launch of an investigation by the Human Rights Commission, letter carriers and inside postal workers in Cornwall, Ontario have been warned to stop exchanging their traditional greeting "Merci Seigneur pour la belle journee (Thank you Lord for the beautiful day)" or face suspension without pay.

Are Canadian freedoms being crushed in the name of human rights? Kathy Shaidle, “Five Feet of Fury” blogger and co-author of The Tyranny of Nice and Salim Mansur, Sun Media columnist and Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Western Ontario to find out how at the Forest City Institute’s Speaking Out For Free Speech 2009, Thursday January 29th, 7:00 to 9:00 pm at the Westmount Public Library.

Tickets are $10 or $5 for students and seniors. Kathy Shaidle's new book The Tyranny of Nice will also be available for sale and signing. Contact the Forest City Institute for additional information.

Kathy Shaidle was a guest on Jim Chapman’s show on AM980 CFPL on Tuesday, January 27th at 11:30 a.m. and will appear on CHRW 94.9 on “Just Right” with Bob Metz on Thursday, January 29th, from 11:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m.

[Link to Cornwall story via Edward Michael George]

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Sunday, January 25, 2009

The old slum of London

Of course, the old slum of London is gone. It has been gentrified, the old slum dwellers have moved on, and a new slum has been built. The new slum is no longer called the new slum, but the slum, and most of the old timers that remember the old slum when it was just the slum, or later, when the new slum was built and the slum it replaced was then called the old slum, are few on the ground. But me, I remember.

My Dad was born in London. He told me stories about the parts of town you did not go to back in the day. Back when he was a kid, the old slum was the slum, and the new slum was just a dream in a social planners mind. Back when my dad was just a kid getting through the depression the old slum of London was just called the slum, and had a bad reputation. Bad people lived there. They lived short, unhappy, brutal lives. They killed each other, they fought over bootleg whiskey, women, and gambling. There were no adequate social programs then, so social problems were much worse than now, because now we have inadequate social programs.

The old Stiffcock house is still standing. I walked past it on my way to Adelaide street. That is where the Stiffcock boys lived, back in the day. Peter Stiffcock was the worst. He was always getting into fights at school. Nobody could figure out why. Without a school lunch program, dyslexia tutoring, or a special needs facilitator, who could bring the necessary skill set and caring attitude to help a boy like Peter Stiffcock? Peter's acting out soon led him into bad company. Instead of job opportunities, he had a job. Instead of a school curriculum that focused on his needs, he graduated with a high school diploma.

The grisly murders that happened next door. The house, known to native Londoners as that house, was abandoned for some time. Nobody who lived in town would live there. Each room seemed to have been the site of some dismemberment or blasphemy. And the locals, the natives of London, shunned the place. No amount of scrubbing or even the putting down of new carpets could erase the lingering horror of the three murders committed there on the full moon of October. And there were more murders in the slum, in the houses there, the old slum of London. Some said it was because of prohibition. But that is never the case. Linking criminals to crime is racism, and we do not do that now. We blame people who do not commit crime for crime, and the real criminals are people who do not want to spend money on social services, not criminals. The hand that holds the knife is not the hand that holds the knife, but the hand that works and wants to keep ahold of its wages. Most of the murders in London were committed in the old slum. That is what my dad told me. And the house right next door to the old Stiffcock house was where the worst were committed. It was empty for years, but now students from Western live there. Nobody has told them about the stains that are under the carpet, or they think a cat has scratched up the doorway moulding, and not an ax murderer working off the last of his rage over inadequate social spending.

Then, there was the Aldridge gang. It was prohibition in London, and the center of the bootleg booze industry was in the old slum. People would go there for whiskey and rum. There were fights, conflict over being marginalized and unaccepted by society. Names were often mentioned, names like Shotgun Bob, and Shotgun Bob ran with the Aldridge gang. Back then, the justice system was disfunctional. Criminals were sent to the hangman, and the rope ended their criminal careers after only one murder. Unlike our modern system which lets killers out on bail to kill a few more times before they are given a university education in social work or linguistics, and then released to kill again. The old slum of London was where the murderers usually lived, and where their loved ones would live on, mourning for the murderer sent to the gallows for only one crime. And those killers all seemed to have connections to the Aldridge gang, and the corner store that Old Man Aldridge ran, where he sold bootleg whiskey along with milk and butter. And Shotgun Bob was his weekend clerk. Too bad modern social theory had not been applied back then, maybe being out on bail for one murder would have taught Shotgun Bob the lesson in social responsibility he needed to know, rather than ending his life at the end of the hangmans rope for his first murder and, sadly, last.

Students live in the house where the triple murder occured. After all these years, the smell is gone. The old Stiffcock house is still standing. The couple that lives there are raising a family. The old corner store is closed, and the trees have grown new bark over the bullet holes and the nicks from the axe swinging frenzy. Trees can do that. But the ancient trees of the Forest City should be listened to. Trees are wise, and those who turn to trees for advice (along with listening to shrubs, vegetables, and bunny rabbits) all cry out for more social spending. There are lessons to be learnt from the old slum of London. How to prevent unfortunates like Peter Stiffcock from being made fun of in school. How to rehabilitate men like Shotgun Bob so that he has longer gaps of time between murders, robberies, and car jackings. Ways to reach out to the people who made up the Aldridge gang, or at least give them brochures so they know that there are programs available to address their need for a smoking cessation course, or a body image awareness care giver, or a safe place to bottle bootleg gin.

Next time you walk through the old slum of London, let the trees speak to you, and listen to their wisdom, their words that justify increased social spending.

I, Fenris Badwulf, with a tear in my eye, wrote this.

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Saturday, January 24, 2009

Obama and Kool

Take 12 years of Georges and add 8 years of Clintons, and what do you get?

George Clinton!

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Thursday, January 22, 2009

Air Defences of London

It is a sad day indeed when you come to understand the shocking lack of air defences of London, the true capital of Upper Canada. Years of uneasy peace, in the undeclared war on poverty, racism, sexism, and inadequate social spending, have not led to the required build up of the infrastructure needed to defend London from our foreign enemies, in particular that great enemy of all things progressive, the United States. So, leaders of London, where are our defences for the inevitable attack of the great Satan, the capitalists of the US of A?

A city of the importance of London, a likely target for terrorflieger demands a minimum garrison of 200 heavy guns of the 88mm type. Given that eighteen guns make up a Flak Abeitlung, twelve of these formations are the required minimum of weapons required to give any enemy a bloody nose. These guns will be arrainged in a ring around the city, with a few special Abeitlung for point defence of strategic targets within the city: these being the GM plant, city hall, and party headquarters.

Flak Towers. London leadership should be demanding the immediate construction of a Flak Tower * within the confines of the city. That great white elephant, Storybrook Gardens, can be used as a site for these mighty monuments of peaceful co-existance. This fortification can also serve as headquarters for London Air Defence.

City Hall should be underground. This strategic target is already on alot of terrorists (and by terrorists I do not mean terrorists, but the real terrorists ... international capitalism) target file. What better way to bring the mighty city to it's knees than by cutting off the head? So, city leadership should demand that city hall be re-located into a deep bunker. Overhead protection should be at least five meters of reinforced concrete. The structure should have its own electricity generator, and be able to purify its own air in the (inevitable) event of poison gas attack.

Where are these fortresses, the guns, and the bunkers? I begin to doubt the loyalty of the current leadership to the principles of progressive politics. Surely the evil Americans will turn to violence to defend their fading empire, even as Obama works to destroy the rotten monolith from within. So London demands defensive preparations. We need a ring of heavy guns, a flak tower, and a fortress for city hall. Borrow all the money, and borrow it now.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this

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Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Regional Rivals of the Hegemony of London

Let us not kid ourselves that the happy future of London, the capital of the Upper Canadians is not without some challenges and obstacles. As the video clip demonstrates, Hollywood knows that fantasy can depict fiction, and the future Feudal London is no exception. Yes, there are those out there that would see London reduced to a vassal state, subservient and ground beneath the sandals of an occupying army. They might not be the Mysterons, but they will have guys like the evil un-dead Captain Black working for them (Captain Black sure does resemble a Republican, does he not?)

The towns of Chatham, Strathroy, Stratford, and Woodstock are all obligated by treaty and custom to send yearly tribute to Mighty London. Wagons of potatoes, carrots, cabbages, and peas find their way into the bursting larders of the citizens of London, clerks, soldiers, smiths, and clerics. Prize horses, champion cattle, and pigs ready for their fate as bacon and ham, will be taken by the subject peoples to their destiny in the Supreme City of the Upper Canadians ... London. Most of these lesser tribes, clans, chieftans, states, and barons, will smile as they hand over their allotment of tribute. But some will grumble, be disaffected, and prefer the sour red wine of unhappiness, to the bran muffin of subjugation to a higher power.

Like the Mysterons, the enemies of London will come in darkness and with cunning. London will be able to defeat any enemy in daylight. The legions of London, spearmen and halberdiers on foot, archers, crossbowmen, and mailed knights on horse, can crush any enemy in a fair fight. But the drinkers of the vinegar of envy of Mighty London will not fight fair. Our forces will be ambushed. Our soldiers will be seduced by busty maids with drink and cheap dope, even while a poisoned dagger or plate of turned chicken is prepared.

Are you prepared to prepare London for its feudal future? Those who support the Kingdom of the Middle Saxons will find a place at the dinner hall to feast. Those that resist will sleep outside the walls, in the snow. And the lesser tribes will send tribute, or London will send its legions to crush their lowly ambitions. Where will you be in twenty years? Happy as you shovel manure in your green future? Smiling as you don your hauberk and heft your battle ax as you go forth to secure the rights of your King, Duke, or Earl? Filled with joy as you wait in line for your fresh baked loaf of bread from the communal kitchens? Indeed, in a world without oil, where the greenies have their way, you will be happy, or you will be compost. And that compost will grow crops to feed the people of London, capital of the Upper Canadians.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

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Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Toronto, London is not

Toronto, that creation of the Imperial power of the English empire, is the usurper of the seat of government of the province of the Upper Canadians. Chosen merely for its military distance and defendability from the quarrelsome and warlike Americans, it has benefited out of proportion from the tax coffers and spending initiatives of governments past and present. This is unfair, and it has given over London to a lack of the cultural high points of Toronto.

Toronto, not London, is where the satraps and minions of the provincial government live, work and play. And because of this, London is underserved by prostitutes, lacks whore houses, and does not celebrate public displays of sexual congress. As many Toronto residents will share with you, it is common to go out into ones front yard to find used condoms, limp and drippy, draped over garden fences, tied to car antennae, or simply left in the grass to compost. During festivals celebrating sexual lifestyles disapproved of by both Catholic pope and Calvinist Orangemen, it is not unusual to interrupt happy sodomites or panderers having their way with all orifices, or same in groups of more than two.

Multiculturalism is less here. Where are the outraged Half-Canadians, demanding their allotment of bread and circuses? Their demands for free food, free education, free legal representation, special needs in prison and special demands during pagan festivals, are but squeeks here in the real capital of Upper Canada. London lacks the public transit of Toronto, and thereby lacks the refreshing experience of public urination, knife fights, and the odd shooting of passing by innocents. How else are our oppressed citizens, both legal and non-legal, to express their outrage over past insults and lack of social spending? Without yellow liquid squooshing around the booted feet of London citizens as they go to work to earn taxes to pay for socialist social services sector satraps, how can white guilt be soothed with the balm of spending the wealth of the working class?

London stands as a red bastion in a sea of blue. It is embarassing to note that the non-Conservative representatives have failed in the securing of pork barrel spending projects. How can these people call themselves Bolsheviks, One-Worlders, and Speakers for Animals? Where are the soaring apartment buildings filled with needy welfare people? Where are the no go 'hoods for the white taxpayers? Where are the flower strewn shrines to slain Bloods and Crips? Our non-Conservative representatives have failed to bring multi-culturalism to London, and if London is to be the replacement capital of the Upper Canadians, it must have these things. For surely, Toronto is on some peaceful terrorist organization's list of places to be made into rubble, and when that happens, will not the capital be moved back to London?

London, mighty London. This city has many of the facilities needed to assume the mantle of Supreme City. There are hotels, convention centers, a rail way station, and cloverleaf connections to the 401. The time is short, you of the current leadership. Make haste and prepare the city for it's destiny of leadership.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

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Monday, January 19, 2009

The Kingdom of the Middle Saxons

As Global Warming continues to chill our economy, we look up from our unnaturally warm winter environment, and we can look forward to a happier, better future, where all energy produced is sustainable. The last time we had a sustainable energy supply was back in the happy days of the Middle Ages, when we lived in harmony with the earth, where the horse was the primary source of motive power. Indeed, we are soon to return to the environmentally friendly Middle Ages, and embrace the highest form of progressive socialism, Feudalism.

London, mighty London, was situated on this, the Thames, to be the capital of the province of Upper Canada. From this position commanding the navigable to cargo canoe and fluvial trireme, London would dominate both the county, but the kingdom, and the kingdoms beyond. Unlike the Lower Canadians, the Upper Canadians situated their capital in the midst of a vast, lush agricultural area. And with agricultural surplus comes power, wealth, and influence. Just like in the happy days of the Middle Ages. Indeed, London of the future, that pleasant future without white privilege, oil based industry, air conditioning and bath water, will be the true capital, first city, of the province of Ontario. If the Romans ruled, and not the Middle Saxons, the ruler would certainly be a senator of pro-praetorian rank. Here, in the walled city will sit the king, pro-consul, or imperator, to dispense justice, dispatch armies of peacekeepers, or receive delegations laden with tribute.

Ramparts of Stone, and men of steel. London's supremacy in this coming age of Noveaux-Feudalism will not come without a price. Mighty walls must surround the city to protect it from raiders, bandits, wolves in spring and winter, bears in the spring and fall, and rabid skunks in the heat of summer. Lesser powers will be envious of the mighty city, and send chainmail clad soldiery against us. From the Highlands of Haliburton will come blue painted Muskokaoids, from the lesser city of Toronto will come Nigoons, and from across the lake to the south will sweep treacherous Yankees, who pick their noses and chew on tobacco. But London, the capital of the Kingdom of the Middle Saxons, breeds a better strain of men. They are fed well in their youth, they learn the arts of environmentally conflict resolution: the horse, the lance, the mace, and the sword; and they march to crush the twisted half-humans who dare to defy the wise social policy of the King who has his throne in London.

A Brighter World Tomorrow. Yes, when the modern economy collapses, and capitalism gives way to the perfection of Socialist Feudalism, we can look forward to the horse taking the place of the car, and your back to take the place of your snow blower, and then you can say, yes, I am happier under feudalism. I despise central heating, and I think the progressives did us a favor in undermining our culture, economy, and way of life. You will be cold in winter, to fight Global Warming. Hurrah for the Kingdom of the Middle Saxons, for as you gaze upon the shining ramparts of Mighty London, you gaze upon the capital, the center, the collective adminstrative apex. Here is where the taxes go. Here is where the taxgatherers, the highest form of taxspender, gather to horde and count, and supervise lessers to the forging of more and better weapons.

Other improvements. All progressive Feudal states had a state religion. It will not be Christianity this time, so let us search for a suitable replacement. I suggest the cult of Set, the Snake God. And the walls for London project are required as well. And we should lay in a supply of wrought iron and charcoal for making peacekeeper tools. You might want to train your young boys to use the longbow, because if you do not, those Nigoons from Toronto will.

I love London, in the Kingdom of the Middle Saxons.

Fenris Badwulf

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Sunday, January 11, 2009

"London, Ontario - the Musical!"

"London 2009" - Frank le Fou


Succumbing yet again to prophetic visions of rusting metal trees and emaciated white elephants, this is the latest installment of Frank le Fou's "diss-topian" folk-rock opera London, Ontario - the Musical!

Previous installments, with various collaborators, under a variety of aliases, include:

"The Outdated Systems to Blame" - Frank le Fou


"Whatever Happened to Storybook Gardens?" - Fender Newton Wright and the Poppy Seeds


"3% & Rising" - Frank le Fou


"I Won't Ever Laugh Again at New Orleans" - Frank le Fou


"Pothole City" - Frank le Fou


"Piccadilly Park (Where Are Your Children Going to Play?)" - The Meadowlillies


"Helpless in London" - The Can Con Artist Conspiracy


"Waiting for a Train" - Frank le Fou


"Downtown London What a Mess" - Frank le Fou


"The Forest City's Sinking" - The Forest City 5


"London is Crumbling Down" - the Diplomatts


Update: Le Fou has stated that he refuses to allow London, Ontario - the Musical to be staged in London "until such a time as there is an adequate venue to do so." In other words, he is holding out for a . . .

"Performing Arts Center".


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True Tales of Nuance And Complexity


If you are not supporting Israel in the current campaign against Hamas, you are supporting Hamas against Israel.

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Friday, January 9, 2009

The London Dating Scene

Letchard Wolfdick is a progressive activist active in progressive causes. If anyone is helping themselves to handouts to help raise awareness about the homeless, the oppressed, the downtrodden, and anyone else cute and cuddly, you can find Letchard's voice to be heard and his hands grasping for a stipend, dividend, or honorarium. In addition to his exceptional taxspender status, Letchard is also an active participant in London's internet, voice mail, and companion ad dating scene. Here are a few tips for the lovelorn for an old hand at romance, Letchard Wolfdick:

1) You do not need that expensive soap that the doctor perscribes you when you get crabs. You can save money and build self esteem by buying that flea shampoo that you can get in the dog food store. And it has a refreshing pine scent that Ladies adore.

2) The cloth that comes with your new pair of glasses can be used to polish your glass eye. No need to spend money on those expensive cloths that your prosthetician pushes on you. And having a shiny glass eye is a real hit with the Ladies, who abhor seeing men with a smudged or streaked glass eye.

3) You want to make a good first impression on that first date, so keep a few safety pins in the pocket of your coveralls incase you pop a button.

Letchards Dating Tip: If you get pepper sprayed in your car, you can use tomato juice to clean the interior.

I, Fenris Badwulf brought this to You, The People of London.

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Canada's Disproportionalistic Shame: Speaking Out Against Section 279

As Canadians in these times of disproportionate war and asymmetrically successful international strife, we cannot let ourselves off the hook. Nor can we afford to blindly be on our own side. Now is the time to speak out against disproportionalism in all its forms.

Consider, just as one small pebble in the edifice of hate that is our legal system, the hideous, disproportionalistic aberration that is our kidnapping legislation. This shameful section, Section 279 of Canada's unfair, unbalanced penal code, reads as follows:

(2) Every one who, without lawful authority, confines, imprisons or forcibly seizes another person is guilty of

(a) an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding ten years; or

(b) an offence punishable on summary conviction and liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding eighteen months.
In case your need to fit the world into “good guys” and “bad guys” has blinded you, and the hideous unfairness and lack of proportion here don’t jump out at you like a phone call warning you that your arsenal and its civilian minders are about to be bombed, just try to put yourself in the shoes of the people involved. Resist the naive temptation to pick one side or another. Stop and think about how you would feel if you were involved. Consider the implications of this single shameful law on your own life for one brief moment.

If you were to kidnap your neighbour for just one week, you could spend up to ten years in prison. Federal prison. On the one hand, there is you, a lone individual. On the other hand, there is the entire apparatus of the Canadian state. On the one hand, there is one week of the other person's life; on the other, ten lost years of your own.

Let's do the math on that one, and see if it makes any sense, or even measures up to the most elementary proportions of fairness when you start to break it down and look at what the two sides are doing to each other. We have seven days of imprisonment on the one side, and THREE THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED AND FIFTY on the other. That is a ratio of 521.5 to 1. Even the ancient Assyrians would never dream of exacting such a harsh price from a rebelling city.

Whatever the complexities, it goes without saying that no one approves of kidnapping. But no amount of spin can make this absurd gulf disappear, or diminish the pain on both sides. Navigating these complexities is a difficult task, one that requires humility, a big heart, and a willingness to compromise. I have faith that progressive Canadians are up to the task of reforming our legal system to bring it back in line with world opinion and elementary proportionalism. It is time to speak out for justice. It is time to repeal section 279.

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Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Time for a group hug

With a little prompting from equity policy guardians, the Ontario president of CUPE, Sid Ryan, has promised to apologize to members of the "Jewish community or Israelis" who were offended by his suggestion that targeting terrorists in Gaza is analogous to Nazi book burnings. He of course stands by his demand to ban Israeli academics who fail to condemn the Israeli reprisal from teaching or speaking at universities in the province.

The Ontario president of the Canadian Union of Public Employees says a Nazi reference he used to justify criticism of Israel was "a poor choice of analogy."

Sid Ryan made the comment Wednesday after a trustee with the Toronto District School Board called on his board to disavow the union's proposal to ban Israeli academics from the province's post-secondary schools.

"The example I gave was inappropriate and left people with the impression I was trying to compare the people of Israel with the Nazis," Ryan said.

[..] Ryan offered the apology in a followup phone call shortly after reiterating that he would not withdraw any of his comments on the CUPE proposal regarding Israeli professors.

The union president was responding to a motion proposed by school board trustee Josh Matlow Wednesday that requires CUPE members to comply with the school board's equity policies and staff directions regarding the Middle East.
Obviously, it is up to the academics to decide the verdict.

cp: The Broom

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Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream, it is diversity

"Allah wackbar" being shouted by a mob in the streets of Toronto.



Hmmm. Sure, Jews are targets for torture and murder overseas, but what if these demons come to roost here in Toronto, the city of Light? Which way will the Toronto Leafs fans go?

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Wishing you a "Helpless" New Year from The Can Con Artist Conspiracy

"Helpless in London" by The Can Con Artist Conspiracy


Apparently this little number was recorded just before Frank passed out on the floor for the last time of 2008.
"Helpless in London"
Words: Hippy Sympathizer & Frank le Fou
Music: Can Con Artist Conspiracy

There is a town in south Ontario
With lead in the water to spare.
Watch out for the ‘coons and skunks
If your neighbour misses garbage day this year.

Gangland shootings behind the bars,
Cost of living on the rise,
Vacant buildings crumble to the ground,
Diminishing shadows on our downtown.

Leave us, helpless, helpless, helpless.
Mayor, can you hear me now?
The chains are locked and tied across the door;
Nobody goes downtown no more.
Why waste talent? Recycle!!!

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Monday, January 5, 2009

Brian Eno: Taking The Golan Heights (By Strategy)

Perhaps his brains are old and scrambled?

"...And I'll come running to tie your suicide bomb."

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Saturday, January 3, 2009

Rare Blake manuscript

Recently unearthed drafts of William Blake's Songs of Experience have revealed a puzzling version of his poem "London" (originally published in 1794). In the annotations he explains that the original poem, cryptically titled "2009",came to him as a waking dream of an absurd futuristic place which was very flat and "overrun by a lot of carriages without horses".


I wander through each crumbling street,
Near where the dried up Thames did flow,
On the surface beneath my feet,
Sinkholes causing traffic to slow.

In each cry of every councilor,
In each activist’s cry of fear,
In each by-law or closed chamber,
The same socialist schemes I hear:

How the city workers cry,
Every day of leave appals;
The hapless taxpayer's sighs
Running down J L C walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
How unruly students curse;
Gun shots and coke mixed with beer,
The world of the Free Press gets worse.

1791 - London

Feeling the original vision was too ridiculous to publish, Blake famously wrote of his contemporary London instead.

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