Jailhouse Rock

I haven't blogged in a while but I think I'd better take the opportunity to do so now because I might be losing computer access.

I think I'm going to jail.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should state that it won't be the first time (although it will be the first time in a while). I might also add that the previous arrests were for minor infractions - acts of youthful exuberance mostly - although I did serve a couple months once as a result of rassling match with a fat cop who was determined to prevent me from attending a summer soiree at Beaver Ullman's place.

But this time is different. This time I think I've landed in really big shit. You see - I have a Canadian flag flying on my front porch. That's right. A Canadian flag. Right here in the middle of - well, in the middle of Canada - but never mind that. The fact is I'm a criminal. A desperado. I am not fit to live among proper human beings.

I know this because just a few short days ago, a couple dozen OPP officers arrested a man trying to erect a Canadian flag in Caledonia. Which is also in the middle of Canada - but never mind that. I'm not sure under which specific section of the criminal code the man was charged but I'm guessing it reads something like this -

"Under the laws of the Dominion, no man shall erect a Canadian flag whereby such erection shall result in the pissing-off of Indians"

Yeah - that's probably how it reads. Don't get me wrong - the Indians should be pissed off. But not about this. They should be pissed off that the federal government refuses to rule on the many land claims they have across this country. It's been decades and decades and nothing has happened. I'd be pissed off too. Undoubtedly some of the claims are legitimate, and undoubtedly some are not. Why won't the feds address this? Puddn'Head Harper - not the brightest bulb in the tanning bed - won't even discuss the matter. Diane Finley - so dim she makes Puddn'Head look like a fucking laser - is not interested either. Will Michael Ignatieff - if he survives those moronic attack ads and becomes PM - do anything? It seems doubtful.

The solution? I don't know - but making the people in Caledonia suffer for the impasse is not working and worse than that - it's not right. If the Indians want action, I have a suggestion. There's a street in Ottawa named Sussex Drive. Blockade that street and I guarantee you'll get some attention. Maybe even somebody will start to listen. Right now Harper is very good at pretending that you don't exist. He won't be able to do that if you're sitting on his front lawn every morning when he wakes up.

Because I have a feeling that preventing Canadians from flying Canadian flags - anywhere in our nation - is not the answer. I'm gonna keep flying mine. If the cops come and get me, so be it. I just hope that Beaver isn't planning another shindig this weekend. Broke my heart to miss the last one.

Mother's Little Helper

As the biggest Yankee fan in the dominion, I feel obligated to comment on the shocking (!) news that Alex Rodriguez used steroids a few years back. I think we should take a shortcut in the future and try to identify the players who HAVEN'T used roids. Because it looks as if most of the league was juicing at one time. As for A-Rod - there are many reasons to feel sorry for this over-paid superstar (I know - how to you feel sorry for a guy knocking down $27 million a year?) First of all - it appears that the guy is so insecure that one wonders how he gets out of bed in the morning. Secondly - he had to date Madonna. Enuff said about that. But the real reason I feel sorry for him? He got ripped off. A-Rod is a much better ballplayer than Sammy (I no speak English)Sosa and Mark (um, I don't want to talk about the past) McGwire, and he's at least as good as SwollenHead Barry Bonds. However - when these three bozos started doing steroids, they jumped from 40 homers a year to 65, 70 and more. Poor A-Rod - he must've gotten the inferior juice because he never made it to 60. He should find that dealer and beat a refund out of him. Then go home and frost his hair.

While A-Rod was composing his insecure apology, Michael Phelps was getting over the news that Kellogg was no longer his endorsement homey. This because of a photo of the Olympic swimmer surfaced - a cellphone pic of him apparently trying to suck the bottom out of a bong. (by the way, somebody should shove a box of corn flakes up the photographer's nose - what a weasel). Now I really don't think that marijuana has ever been considered a performance enhancing drug, but I guess its use is a bad example for the youth of today. Strange how just Olympic athletes are held to this standard. If the owners of the various NFL teams learned that the ONLY vice their players had was a propensity for smoking a little boo, they'd fall to their knees and thank the ghost of Vince Lombardi. Besides, who says that pot is bad for athletic performance? I recall the 1960 Olympics, when Cheech and Chong took home 27 medals between them.

One more item. A few days ago, a chimpanzee in Connecticut attacked a woman, seriously injuring her. The chimp's owner later admitted to giving the animal the anti-anxiety drug Xanax. The chimp was shot and killed after the attack. There's something not right about that. These other guys took the drugs willingly. The poor chimp was nothing but a pawn in the game.

At least he didn't have to date Madonna.

The Afghan Question

As we move into a new year - one that promises to be extremely interesting on the Canadian political front - it's time we ask some serious questions about this country's goals with regards to the conflict in Afghanistan. If our goal is to offer up the lives of brave Canadian soldiers while not affecting the situation there in the least - then I say we're doing a hell of a job.

Hopefully that's not our goal.

If a country takes the extreme step of going to war, then that country has to know just what the hell it is trying to accomplish. Canada knew what the goal was in WW11, they knew what the goal was in WW1. They were turf wars - you win the ground, eventually you win the war. No such situation exists in Afghanistan. Turf doesn't exist. In fact, our troops rarely get to fight at all. They move around the country, chasing an invisible and cowardly enemy, and hope to hell they don't drive over an IED. This isn't about turf, it isn't about changing a political regime. It's guerrilla warfare, and the guerrillas hold all the cards. The British couldn't beat the Afghans in the 19th century, the Russians couldn't beat them in the 20th. Nothing has changed in the 21st.

To make matters worse, we're trying to prop up a government that's so corrupt it would look right at home in Illinois. Dexter Filkins of the New York Times recently described the current regime thusly -

“Kept afloat by billions of dollars in American and other foreign aid, the government of Afghanistan is shot through with corruption and graft. From the lowliest traffic policeman to the family of President Hamid Karzai himself, the state built on the ruins of the Taliban government seven years ago now often seems to exist for little more than the enrichment of those who run it.”

And our soldiers are fighting for this? Isn't it time for posturing jackasses like Peter McKay and Puddn'head Harper to either identify our goals there OR bring the troops home? Or maybe they have decided that the Canadian casualty rate is "acceptable". If George W. Bush had concentrated on the Afghan situation after 9/11 - instead of spending hundreds of billions in Iraq - then Canada would not have to be there today. Dubya, of course, will be heading back to his pretend ranch in Texas in a couple weeks.

Our troops will still be in Afghanistan. And nothing about that situation is pretend.

A Dog's Breakfast, Ottawa Style

I was home last night, thinking I was viewing a hilarious new episode of Monty Python, when I suddenly realized that I was in fact watching the shenanigans of our elected leaders on Parliament Hill. What a bunch of kooks. Apparently it was discovered that the Conservatives, under Prime Minister Stephen "Puddn'head" Harper, have been acting like a bunch of sneaky sons-of-bitches. The Liberals, the NDP and the Bloc, upon learning of this outrage, have responded by acting like a bunch of sneaky sons-of-bitches. And today poor Michaelle Jean - who surely didn't sign up for this shit - has the unfortunate task of sorting it all out. Rumour has it she's seeking an easier gig - like running GM or Chrysler, for instance.

I have to say that this three party coalition has got everybody's shorts in a knot. Petitions are flying around like bullets at Plaxico Burress' birthday party. I think everybody should relax. This mighty coalition - if successful - will remain intact for about 12 minutes. As soon as Jack Layton spots another shiny object to chase - and keep in mind it was Smiling Jack who put Harper in power to begin with - that will be the end of it. Maybe he'll decide that Brian Burke or Celine Dion should get a shot at being PM. Or perhaps even his wife - Olivia Newton Chow.

Even more panic surrounds the involvement of the separtists(!) Surely they are, at long last, planning to disassemble the country. Let's get this straight - the separtist movement in Quebec is like the brain tissue in Julian Fantino's head - it might exist but it's dormant and it's gonna stay that way. The average citizen of La Belle Province doesn't want out. And they particularly don't want out at a time when the world's economy is plummeting like a skydiver without a chute.

As for the Liberals, why are they doing this to Dion? He thought he had escaped and now they pull this on him? Those sneaky sons-of...okay, we already established that. If this thing goes through, Stephane will have to suck it up, be PM for a few months and then vanish into the wilderness. Where he might just find Mr. Harper stumbling around.

You have to wonder where this concept came from. Let's see - a devious, duplicitous, right wing leader who has led the country into a recession while fighting an unwinnable war is sent into exile? Nope, drawing a blank. But gee - maybe Dubya has a spare room for Puddn'head down in Crawford.

There is one thing missing in all this though. As the GOP flamed out last month south of the border, they brought in Sarah Palin to throw gasoline on the fire. We need our own version of this. Someone just like Sarah - sassy, flashy, all mavericky, with an expensive wardrobe and the intelligence of a Haldimand County fencepost.

Come on home, Belinda Stronach. Your country needs you.

Puddn'head's Folly

Well, Election Day draws near and it's looking as if it's gonna be Much Ado About Nothing. Puddn'head Harper has rolled the dice, hoping - apparently in vain - for a majority and wasting taxpayers' time and money in the process. Nothing will change. Harper is still George Bush-Lite, Dion has failed to capture the nation's attention and Jack Layton is an annoying energizer bunny, running around like a chicken with no head, making all kinds of promises he knows he'll never have to keep because he knows he's never gonna be prime minister. Keep in mind that he's the guy who put Harper in power to begin with, when he brought down the Liberal government back in '06. It's time for a name change for the NDP leader - just substitute "Ass" for Layton and be done with it.

Harper continues to be the classic wolf in sheep's clothing, biding his time for a majority in the house so he can show his true colors. But you should consider this - he recently stated that Canadian troops will remain in Afghanistan until 2011. Why this arbitrary date? Aren't we at war there? Is Puddn'head saying we will win by then? Of course not. The war is not winnable. Canada is there as part of NATO, even though most of the other NATO countries are not pulling their weight. The need to be there - of course - is due to Dubya not finishing the job after 9/11. Harper is kissing Dubya's ass at a time when nobody else on the political landscape will even agree to have their picture taken with that bogus cowboy fuckstick. And the cost of this ass-kissing? Many more dead Canadian men and women - our brave soldiers who are fighting for a war with no goal, no objective. Until 2011. Cuz Puddn'head says so.

Which brings us to Haldimand/Norfolk...my bailiwick. Diane Finley is the MP for this area and - as representatives go - this women is like a fart in a tornado. I don't care who you vote for - Liberal, NDP, Independent, Green or Plaid - but if you vote for this woman, you'll get exactly what you deserve. And it won't be much. Finley has been absent on the Caledonia front from the get-go, even though land claims are a federal issue. She has turned her back on the riding from the start, preferring to stay in Ottawa with her attack dog/bully husband, who serves at the bidding of ol' Puddn'head himself. The woman is a joke. I don't know if anyone can help this riding but I do know this - we cannot reward this do-nothing blithering shrew with another term.

No way. No how.

Mr. Zimmerman comes to Hamilton

Hooked up with an old acquaintance Wednesday night in a hockey arena in Hamilton. Bob Dylan rolled into town on his tour bus and delighted, dismayed and confused fans for a couple hours before lamming it for the wilds of Ohio.

It's strange - I'm somebody who's been accused of never listening to anybody and yet I realize I've been listening to Bob Dylan for about 40 years. Yikes. Leonard Cohen called Dylan the greatest lyrical genius of the past 500 years. George Harrison said that a hundred years from now, the only music from our time that will survive is Dylan's. And the guy beside me at the concert, smoking a spliff the size of a fucking cohiba, said - "Yo, Bobby!"

I gotta agree with all of them.

Dylan has been touring constantly for a lot of years now and he blew his voice to pieces about a decade ago. He now sounds like Tom Waits gargling with kerosene. The thing is - the guy is not a good singer. He's a GREAT singer. Listen to Slow Train Coming sometime. Nobody else - not Sinatra, Bennett or Ella Fitzgerald - could sing those songs. His enunciation - which has always been a moveable feast - these days falls somewhere between Buckwheat from the Little Rascals and a punch drunk boxer. If you know the lyrics you're okay. If not, you're screwed. His arrangements are quirky too - one of the great things about seeing Dylan is to listen to the first 30 seconds of a song and ask, "What the fuck is that?" and then go, "Oh, it's Just Like A Woman, which on Wednesday night was sung in Al Pacino's over-the-top actor's staccato. Scent Of A Woman meets Bob from Hibbing.

But that's just Bobby being Bobby. He has always confounded people. There were those there Wednesday night who wanted nothing more in all the world than for Dylan to strap on his old Martin acoustic and trill "Blowing In The Wind" like he did back in the day. But my theory is this - there are certain artists out there, of a certain age, who fear one thing more than any other. And that one thing is becoming a musty, irrelevant golden oldie act.

That ain't never gonna happen with this guy.

CB Open '08

It is my reluctant duty to report on the second annual CB Open, held this Wednesday past at the revered old course at Dunnville, Ontario, along the banks of the rolling Grand River. The tournament - named for a feisty banty rooster who roamed this area last year - is fast becoming the most prestigious 9-hole event in the golfing world.

The course - designed by Tom Dodgson in 1922 - was in reasonably good shape, in spite of the torrential rains which have plagued the area all summer long. As it turned out, the rains also contributed to the outcome of the tournament. The reigning champs - Liz "Tigeress" MacDonald and your humble blogger - both possess golf games that are every bit as detailed and precision-ed as the work of a diamond cutter. The overly wet conditions played havoc with this precision and allowed Sue "The Next One" Vail and Mark "Burrowing Owl" Plug to usurp the champs and steal away the title. It was an unpopular victory, as was evident by the hisses and boos from the grandstands surrounding the old course. Ms. Vail carried the day for the winning squad, playing perhaps her best game of the year. Mr. Plug shot his age over 9 holes, a result that would have made him extremely happy...had it happened in 1992.

All the golfers retired to a private estate on Lake Erie, accompanied by Lori Plug, the tournament's convener. Refreshments were served and many of the world's problems solved. Ms. MacDonald and Mr. Smith were amazingly gracious in defeat - both growing more witty and charming with each libation.

And they both agree - Susie and Marky are going down next year.