Olympic Rings & Scientific Circles

Does anybody out there give a rat’s ass about the Olympics these days? I mean, the actual athletic events - where steroid cheats and German laboratory freaks compete for shiny chunks of bling to dangle from their thick necks? The Olympic Torch is currently on a world-wide tour - like fellow flamer Elton John - and every day we hear of protests against it. The torch has its own security team traveling with it. That alone should tell you that this thing is out of control. Torches don’t need bodyguards. I have an old flashlight here that comes and goes as it pleases and none of the neighbours seem to give a damn.

Of course, the problem is China, and - as problems go - this one’s a real motherfucker. Someone once told Napoleon that China was a "sleeping giant" and the little Frenchman replied, "Let her sleep. When she awakes, she will move the world." Well, she is awake these days, folks. And she’s quite a scamp - trampling on human rights, ignoring the environment, and attempting, for some reason, to add a little dash of lead to everything she manufactures. There are huge problems in dealing with China, and going there to compete in athletic games that are increasingly irrelevant won’t do a damn thing to address these concerns. Let the Olympics die. Who cares if some mutant Jose Canseco look-alike can lift a school bus over his fat empty head? Not me.

Okay, 2008 is depressing. Let’s go to 1860. A reader in Kansas City sent me this link recently. In my novel Busted Flush, I speculated that my hero Willy Burns might have recorded Abe Lincoln’s voice at Gettysburg in 1863, an act that would have trumped old Tom Edison’s ace and made quite a splash in scientific circles (not that I have ever been in such a circle). Many people assumed that the notion was just a figment of my imagination, but it was in fact based on my discovery that Edouard-Leon Scott sold phonautographs as early as 1858, for research purposes, and may have recorded voices in the process - even though he didn’t have the capability of playing the sound back. This new evidence supports that claim. Also, history notes that Scott did indeed visit Lincoln in the White House earlier in 1863 and allegedly recorded the Great Emancipator at that time, in the interest of posterity. If anyone stumbles upon that particular cylinder, give me a shout. I’ll trade you my ‘86 Ford F150 for it, straight up.

I’ll end this with a challenge. I’ve been arguing with my cousin whether or not George W. Bush is the worst American president ever. I say he is. In fact, if the Three Stooges had ever been elected co-presidents, my pick would still be Dubya. If Mike Harris had been elected prez, my pick would still be the current occupant, although that contest would be a little tighter. So who’s the worst? The dithering Buchanan? A despicable Andrew Johnson? Or dopey old Warren G. Harding? I say it’s Dubya in a romp. Anyone who can provide evidence proving otherwise gets a crack at the F150.

Roger this, the dodo, Tasmanians

Samuel Johnson once mentioned that patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel. And the sainted one, Bob Dylan, borrowing freely from ol' Sam, once sang,

Patrotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings,
Steal a little and they'll throw you in jail,
Steal a lot and they'll make you king

I was thinking of these two fellows yesterday as I was watching Roger Clemens wrap himself in the American flag as he stood before congress, under oath, lying his weasel heart out. Scoundrel is too kind a word for this guy. In the course of protecting his vision of himself as the greatest pitcher of all time, he proceeded to throw his friend, Andy Pettitte, onto the burning bonfire of the Rocket's own reputation and then - for good measure - he heaved his wife on there too. Who knows - he may have run over a few orphans with his Hummer when he left. Aside from a few Republican congressmen with their heads rooted firmly up their asses, there is no doubt now that Clemens cheated constantly and now seems to be willing to lie just as vociferously about that cheating. And when he says he doesn't care about the Hall of Fame...that's another lie. I'm hoping that he will get in the Hall of Fame - by buying a ticket.

In local news...there was a Diane Finley sighting this week! Our local MP - who many had thought had gone the way of the dodo bird, actually showed up in this area. Doing her usual Roy Orbison thing, and handing out money, but not nearly as much as was needed for the town. She also spouted off a little about Caledonia, where Finley sightings have been as rare as rocking horse shit. One wonders just why she would show up now...perhaps looking for her shadow to see how much winter is left? Or maybe - just maybe she's here because of the rumoured (and ill-advised) election we might have this spring. Shoring up the old profile, you know? Tell you what - if this do-nothing tinhorn gets elected next time around, I'm moving to Tasmania.

Speaking of Caledonia, I have a good buddy who teaches high school there and by all accounts, he is one of the best teachers ever in that facility. Sorry, I should say he used to teach high school there. Right now, he's cooling his heels at home because he's been charged with assaulting a student. Now I don't know the details of this particular case but I have a pretty good idea that, as assaults go, I've had sneezes that were more violent. Again, I can not speak to this case directly but I have several friends who are teachers and I have learned that things are different these days. Back in the day, we often got into trouble because we were trouble. And when it happened, the last people we wanted to know about it were our parents. But kids have changed over the years. Apparently, they are now perfect little darlings and and as such never ever require discipline. So, if ever they are disciplined, of course they run home to Mommy and Daddy, who - knowing that their children are perfect little darlings - have no recourse but to blame the teacher. Sounds like a fun system to me. By the way, I'm also told that Grade 2 kids now routinely tell their teachers to fuck off. I'm guessing that's the teacher's fault too.

If I had ever said that to one of my teachers, and my Dad found out, I would not have gone home. I would've moved to Tasmania.

Da Gouge

Okay, let's talk about gas. No - not the stuff spewing out of Roger Clemens these days. I'm talking about the fuel you buy at the pumps. Buy is actually too harsh a word - they're practically giving the stuff away of late. (that would be sarcasm)

A year ago, crude oil was about 60 bucks a barrel. Now it's around 100 dollars. All the gas and oil we use in Canada comes from Canada...most of it these days from the tar sands in Alberta. When oil was 60 bucks, the folks out in the tar sands were making lots of money on a barrel of crude. Which means they are making a shitload of money now on that same barrel. (I'm assuming that their production costs haven't gone up 80% in the last 12 months) The price rises when the world price goes up - due to political unrest, war, weather (our gas skyrocketed because there was a hurricane in the Gulf Of Mexico? Oh - that makes perfect sense)

So why - exactly - are the producers obligated to gouge us at the pumps? The answer - they are required to sell oil to Canadians for the world market price.

Says who?

35% of the cost of a litre of gas is tax. Presently, that's roughly 40 cents on a litre. Apparently our government has lots of money these days. They just did us the incredible favour of lopping a percentage point off the GST. I know this because I saw that little finance guy who looks like a grown-up Beaver Cleaver babbling on about it on TV. As wonderful as that gesture was (I mist up even now) - why don't they do us a real service? Why don't we have a party - or a leader of a party - who will step forward and admit what's true? The oil companies - many of them foreign-owned - and the government - are getting stinking rich at the gas pumps. You ever wonder why we can buy Canadian gas in the States cheaper than we can buy it here? I do.

You wanna be the next prime minister of Canada? Tell the voters you'll freeze gas at 75 cents a litre. Everybody's still gonna get rich at that price. So if you see Stephan Dion (has anybody seen that guy lately?)...tell him. You can tell Jack Layton, but he rides a bike and he'll just look at you like a monkey looking at the inside of a watch. You can tell Puddn'Head Harper but he's already prime minister and he's busy freaking out over what he's gonna do when the Americans kick that clown George Dubya Bush to the curb and elect Barack Obama. Puddn'Head has never actually seen a black man in person before.

But I digress. This is the solution. Gas prices are the biggest scam in our country today. And we are still in large part a rural nation. We need our vehicles and we need fuel to drive them.

You are welcome.

If I could just figure out a way to tap into Roger Clemens - I could drive free for a year.

Weasels To The Left Of Me, Cheaters To The Right

And I’m standing on the border between.

Before we get to the Mitchell Report, let’s have a look in the mirror first. We had a real hall of fame week here in the Great White North. Unfortunately, that would be the slimeball hall of fame. Robert Picton, Conrad Black, Brian Mulroney. These guys, among them, don’t have enough redeemable qualities to make a compost heap.

Regarding the concerns that Picton was convicted of second degree instead of first - and therefore eligible for earlier release - forget about it. While it is unfathomable that he was not convicted of first, he ain’t getting parole. Not in 25 years, not in 100. Not gonna happen.

As for Conrad, Lord Black of CrossBooger, he was arrogant to the end. There’s something fascinating about a guy who can hold that pose when he’s convicted, sentenced, and looking in general like the pompous boob he’s always been. We’ll see if he can hold that pose when he’s on his hands and knees, scrubbing toilets with the homeys down in that Florida prison. Yo Conny, bring the Saniflush.

And then there’s our ex-prime minister. Myron Baloney. Just looking at his smarmy, slimy countenance, while he delivered his version of events to Ottawa this week, makes a man want to hurl. The bad news - he’s gonna walk on this thing because 1) The guy accusing him, Carl Schreiber, is damn near as despicable as Brian himself (no mean feat) and 2) Nobody will be able to prove any real ‘wrongdoing’. It’s perfectly okay for a prime minister to accept a few hundred grand in cash in a hotel room, for services to be rendered (they have a name for women who commit such acts) and it’s perfectly okay for him to ‘forget’ to pay tax on that money for a few years. One thing won’t change though - Mulroney is still the classless cretin he’s always been, from the days he was cheating to get through university to the times he kissed Ronald Reagan’s ass from here to Tipperary.

Speaking of cheating, it was shocking to learn this week that baseball has a steroid problem. Well, if you are shocked at that, I’ve some real bad news for you regarding Santa Claus. The Mitchell Report made quite a splash - exposing, in particular, Roger Clemens to be the ‘roider we always suspected him to be. However, it’s too bad that the report had to rely predominantly on two informers from the New York teams. The commission had little leverage because it did not have subpoena power, and because of that it got virtually no cooperation from the players. Read the report - even the players named still refused to speak to the accusations when given a chance. All of them. If you’re innocent, aren’t you gonna want to tell your side? In the end, though, the report is flawed because of all the players who are NOT named. No stars at all from Boston, Chicago, St. Louis, Seattle, L.A., Milwaukee, Kansas City, etc. etc. etc. Nobody on those teams ever did 'roids? Gimme a break. A lot of guys breathing easier these days because of that. While overall, the report is a good thing for baseball, the problem remains the same as it is with the Olympics - the cheaters are always gonna be one step ahead of the testers.

Thoughts On Shopping

The festive season is fast approaching and I am already giddy just thinking about malls and shopping and such. Okay, that would be sarcasm. But seriously, I hope that everyone gets what they deserve this year. Especially Brian Mulroney and Barry Bonds.

I do have a suggestion for a new event this Christmas though. I propose that we find the guy who invented the debit card and give him a good old-fashioned horse-whipping. The debit card is like Coors Light and Paris Hilton - there is no conceivable reason for its popularity. It slows things down, folks. It really slows things down when the person in front of you in line is attempting to swipe her Air Miles card through the gizmo, thinking it is her debit card. (that actually happened to me recently). The other day I was in an Avondale and the pimply-faced kid in front of me was attempting - in vain - to pay for a bottle of pop with his card. A bottle of pop! If you don't have enough cash on you to buy a Pepsi - stay home. Your folks probably have pop in the fridge. No doubt they used a debit card to pay for it.

I think there should be a "Cash Only" register at the supermarket. That would work out really well for me cuz I'd be the only guy using it. It might start a groundswell - people using cash to pay for stuff. What a concept! But let's consider this public flogging proposal. We could do it in Central Park. All we need is a horsewhip...and the guy who invented the damn card. We could make it an annual event, sing carols, hoist a few, maybe throw in some tar and feathers next year. And it would serve as a warning to the next smart-ass card inventor out there.

I'm signing books next Saturday (Dec. 1) at Waterfront Books, 214 Chestnut Street in Dunnville. 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. There will be books for sale so...um, bring your debit cards.

Damn.

Holy Smokes Redux

Some eagle-eyed readers have politely (ahem) pointed out to me that I erred in the previous post when I stated that the smoke shop in question was on public property. My crack investigative squad tells me that the readers are correct. At least one of the sites - and maybe more - was indeed on private property. Mea culpa.

Thus far, nobody has come forward with any evidence to argue my claim that the OPP in Caledonia is incompetent...or that Fantino has his head up his ass.

Keystone Cops, Fatuous Fantino, A-Rod to Dunnville

The OPP proved once again that there is no limit to their incompetence, putting the run on a Caledonia man this week for selling cigarettes along a public road while allowing 'others' to continue selling smokes a short distance away. Two-tier justice is alive and well and thriving in Haldimand County. I keep waiting for one of these cops to break ranks, to come forward and admit that he or she is embarassed to be part of this sham, that he or she is ashamed to be collecting all that over-time while sitting on their asses and looking the other way. Ain't gonna happen. Hey, maybe Diane Finley will don her fake nose and glasses and drive through town again. That oughta help.

Speaking of cops, OPP head honcho Julian Fantino made the news this week, with some babble-speak about the cost of the Caledonia stand-off. Apparently Fantino blames Gary McHale for a large portion of this, ignoring the fact that his make-believe police force is the real problem. Spec columnist Susan Clairmont - not the sharpest tool in the shed - appears to agree with Fantino, who has proved himself to be a tinhorn and a huge disappointment to the people of Caledonia. He's recently written - or printed - a book about his life and his great deeds. That's all we need - another work of fiction.

The underwhelming attention A-Rod is receiving means he might very well start next season with the famed Rolling Thunder of Dunnville - my old club. With him at third, they're a cinch to win the league. But not the title, of course.

The chicken-raising season is now over. The birds have...um...gone to live on a farm in the country. Yeah, that's it.