A: “Medical forms are complicated.”
Q: How come you don’t sound sick?
A: “How come you’re a jerk?”
Q: Didn’t I just see you at the movies?
A: “THIS INTERVIEW IS OVER.”
Pledge $7,500 or more: A dishonoured senator of your choice will personally do your taxes. I smell a refund!
Pledge $10,000 or more: Exclusive Senator for a Day package! Live the life of a crony, bagman, brown-noser, party loyalist (or some combination thereof) for a full twenty-four hours! We supply the business suit, the shiny shoes and the overwhelming air of disdain for our country’s institutions. You supply the gall to double-dip on your per diem and expenses.
Pledge $90,172: Welcome to the super-exclusive “Chief of Staff” level! Donate this amount to bail out one (1) over-entitled, utterly shameless senator, and you’ll enjoy the unmatched experience of losing your job, damaging your reputation, enduring a police investigation and regretting your decision for years to come. You’ll also get a Senate of Canada pen! (You can’t keep the pen.)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rob Ford addresses the media while mayor of Toronto:
Good morning. Yep, it’s me again. I’ve got another statement to make, and I’m glad you reporters could take time away from going through my garbage or however you pathetic jackals spend your day. Thanks for being here and I hope you all get tetanus.
As I’ve said, this has been a hard week for me. Possibly the hardest week a human person has ever endured, and I include Gandhi in that, and also Batman when he had to pretend to be the bad guy.
But I’ve got some big news—big, big news.
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve made all the possible mistakes. Some of these mistakes I’ve made many times. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not good at life. But recently I was talking about the (many) mistakes I’ve made and I said: “If there was a button I could push to change everything, I would. Unfortunately there is no button that exists.”
And that’s what gets me: Why doesn’t that button exist? Think about what we could do with a button that changes everything. Are you done thinking about it yet? Because I’m not.
[Closes eyes. Pantomimes shot-gunning a beer while wrestling a tiger.]
Listen up, Toronto: we’re going to build that button. I’m here to announce that, if I’m voted back in, I will ensure that this great city is the first in the whole entire world to have a button that erases bad things—a button that changes everything.
What can I tell you about this button? Well, I assume it’s going to be red, but I’m not Captain Kirk so I’ll leave that to the nerds. But it should definitely be red, okay? Possibly it should also blink. What matters most is that the button will be installed on my desk at City Hall. Don’t worry—I’ll make room for it. I can move the deep fryer over near the waterbed.
And then every now and then, when the time is right, I’ll push the button—and everything will change. Maybe I push it and you wind up being a millionaire or having cool sideburns. You never know. Maybe I push the button and—boom—everyone who’s ever worked at the Toronto Star gets some disease where their pancreas explodes.
I’m doing this for you, the taxpayer. Remember that Easy button they had at Staples? Like you, I believed it was real. I must have pushed that button, like, twenty times—and still I had to put on my own socks that day. You don’t get over that kind of disappointment.
Don’t get me wrong—this new button is not going to solve all our problems and make the future awesome. For example, sometimes I may not remember the events of the night before, to the point that I won’t know whether I need to push the button and change everything. So I’ll have to hire a guy to keep an eye on that. Button Guy, I’ll call him. Did I get into it last night? Do I need to push the button, Button Guy? And Button Guy gives me the nod or the head shake. Either way, I probably push the button just to be safe.
I’ll tell you one more thing: once we’ve got the button that changes everything, we’re not going to stop there. That’s not the Ford Nation way. We’re going to build more buttons. We’re going to build a button that picks up your garbage. A button that shovels your driveway. Buttons! Buttons! Buttons! It’ll be just like it was going to be with subways, except now with buttons. Maybe we’ll make a button that builds subways!
I can already hear the doubters. I can hear them saying, “Building a button that changes everything is impossible. It can’t be done.” But I want those doubters to listen to me very carefully.
My name is Rob Ford. I am your mayor. I drink to the point of stupor so often that I refer to them as “my drunken stupors.” I’ve been accused of sexual harassment, verbal harassment, pretty much all of the big harassments. I’m profane as hell. I’ve violated conflict-of-interest laws. Abused my power and position. The cops have been called to my house. I kicked citizens off a bus so it could pick up my football team. My driver is up on extortion charges. Oh, and by the way, I smoke crack cocaine. That’s my record as an elected official.
And you know what? I still have a 40 percent approval rating.
Don’t ever try to tell me what’s possible.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Federal election campaigns in Canada now bring an increased focus on the nature and content of so-called robo-calls—recorded messages that are blasted out to thousands of home phones.
After the 2011 campaign, Conservatives were accused of sending out misleading robocall messages meant to lure Liberal and New Democratic Party voters away from their proper polling stations. This obviously could not be true because Conservatives love democracy. They’re always talking about its origins as the coming together of two Greek words: kratos meaning “power,” and demos meaning “gimme.”
Sure, Stephen Harper prorogued Parliament to avoid an election and, sure, his party admitted lying to constituents in Montreal so they’d think their Liberal MP had quit and, yes, Conservatives confessed to violating election finance rules in the 2006 campaign but, on the other hand, awkward silence.
MPs were armed with talking points to defuse the scandal. They read:
We had absolutely nothing to do with any attempts to suppress voter turnout (wink).
Don’t actually wink when you say that first thing.
What matters for the future is that subverting the democratic will of Canadians isn’t going to be so easy now. Voters will be wary, so Conservative operatives will need to find more advanced ways to keep their opponents from the polls.
To the brainstormery!
1. Robo-collars: Disguised as elegant chokers, these collars deliver a painful electric shock to any member of the electorate who so much as daydreams about voting for an opposition party. They can also be configured between elections to function as an appetite suppressant or a way of making a conversation with Tony Clement seem pleasant by comparison.
2. Mass hypnosis: Many of us have attended performances where full-grown adults have fallen under the control of a cruel master bent on making them look foolish. Some of us have seen much the same thing at Conservative caucus meetings. There’s evidence that Harper started practising hypnosis in preparation for the 2015 campaign. Why do you think Rob Anders kept falling asleep? Keep your eyes on the pocket watch, Canada. You are getting very, very Conservative …
3. Sinister weather machines: Turnout is way down for elections. It won’t take much to coax even more people to stay away. For example, hurricane-force winds ought to be enough to make voters hunker down in Liberal-friendly Newfoundland. Same goes for four centimetres of snow in downtown Toronto.
But how to manipulate the weather? Cloud-seeding technology has advanced in recent years. Plus, Kate Bush had that neat storm-making contraption in her Cloudbusting video, and it’s probably sitting in Donald Suth
erland’s garage. (Young people: just Google it.) Alternatively, scientists at Conservative Labs are rumoured to be developing a proprietary system in which John Baird screams at the sky until it surrenders its moisture.
4. Actual robots: Robocalls are great, but these are even more effective. Picture the scene: it’s election day, a loyal Liberal supporter is putting on her coat to head to the polls and, whoa, where did her Roomba get that switchblade? Standoff.
5. Freaky Friday–style body switching: Across the country in too-close-to-call ridings, party volunteers are zapped into the bodies of opposition supporters for just long enough to vote Conservative and maybe get a tattoo of a shirtless Jason Kenney across a shoulder blade.
6. Criss-cross: Remember Strangers on a Train? You do my evil deed, I’ll do yours—and no one will ever suspect a thing. Air Canada would seem to be a good fit here. The airline can pepper voters with misleading calls and, in return, all the Conservatives need to do is put me on hold for two hours.
7. Moats: Sometimes the best modern tactic is the best ancient tactic. Just find an opposition-friendly polling station—then gather together some earth-moving equipment, a supply of water and a few crocodiles. All of a sudden, casting that ballot for the NDP doesn’t seem so important, does it, hippie? The best part is the deniability factor: those could be anyone’s crocodiles.
8. Offer a positive, compelling vision for the country and behave in a decent, civil manner so that you inspire the support of enough Canadians that party operatives don’t feel compelled to resort to dirty tricks: But that sounds like a lot of work.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Because of all the complex terminology, reading about the federal budget sure can be taxing. (Ladies and gentlemen, wordplay!) Luckily for you, I’ve compiled and refined a helpful guide that translates all that wonky budget lingo.
Austerity: During tough economic times, the federal government reduces the amount it spends, except in areas that reflect vital public trusts, like health care and snowmobiles.
Balance of Payments: The formal term for rushing out to buy a new pair of shoes after discovering your husband dropped $700 on a flat-screen TV.
Benchmark Bond: The little-known brother of the famous spy, he was killed in a tragic securitization mishap.
Canada Foundation for Innovation: Frankly, I’m not sure what this is—but I’m confident we can rule out Stephen Harper’s barber as a member.
Canada’s Economic Action Plan: The Conservative plan to create jobs apparently hinges on ensuring every single Canadian eventually stars in one of these TV ads.
Capital Tax: Compared to people in some other countries, Canadians do not pay tax—they pay TAX.
Closely Held Bank: A financial institution that just finished watching a horror movie.
Core Unemployment Rate: The rate of joblessness among Canada’s apple farmers.
Custom Tariff Measures: No sophisticated G7 country would be caught dead getting its tariff measures off the rack.
Debt-to-GDP ratio: Trying to make a bad thing sound better by comparing it to something more positive. Example: Canada’s tourism industry is expecting a strong summer after new lows were reported in the country’s Nickelback-to-bacon ratio.
Deflation: A rare and complex phenomenon currently seen acting on the career ambitions of Thomas Mulcair.
Dissaving: What people on vacation begin doing immediately after deplaning.
Family Trust: What you have yet to regain after investing your kid’s college fund in Pets.com.
Frictional Unemployment: The rate of joblessness among Canada’s prostitutes.
Income Testing: The act of swiping your debit card, entering your PIN and hoping to God there’s enough cash in your account.
International Association of Insurance Supervisors: A good organization to think about every time you begin to feel your job may be boring.
National Child Benefit: Secret name for my plan to abduct and forcibly confine The Wiggles.
Natural Rate of Unemployment: How Canada’s economy looks with its makeup off.
Overnight Financing Rate: The rate of interest charged for loans extended by smaller financial institutions, such as the Canadian Imperial Bank of That Guy Down at the Pool Hall, the One with a Hook for a Hand.
Per Capita: An up-and-coming defenceman in the Swedish elite league.
Prospectus: Based on my personal investing experience, I believe this is Latin for “Lose your money here!”
Protectionism: The act of covering your privates before informing your wife that you just blew the tax refund on a dirt bike.
Retiring Allowance Rollover: What senior-aged women feel pressured to occasionally give their Viagra-fuelled husbands.
Seasonal Adjustment: The exact moment in May when Finance officials, acting on instincts refined over thousands of years of relentless inbreeding, know it’s time to switch from long-sleeved polyester dress shirts to short-sleeved polyester dress shirts.
Self-dealing: What every young, budding economist dreads his mom will walk in on while he’s doing it.
Structural Unemployment: The rate of joblessness in Legoland.
Twenty-One-Year Deemed Disposition Rule: The formal global policy under which Billy Joel trades in for younger girlfriends.
Wealth Tax: This doesn’t really exist—but mentioning it every now and then keeps the poor folks quiet.
Zero-Rated Goods: The accounting designation for Adam Sandler’s last four movies.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Because the Conservatives are super-classy, they released a statement congratulating Justin Trudeau back when he won the Liberal leadership. Here it is (for real) in its entirety:
We congratulate Justin Trudeau on becoming Liberal leader.
Stephen Harper has an Economic Action Plan that has created 900,000 new jobs since the recession, the best job creation record in the G7. He’s lowered taxes, such as the GST, and increased support for families with measures like the Universal Child Care Benefit.
Justin Trudeau may have a famous last name, but in a time of global economic uncertainty, he doesn’t have the judgment or experience to be Prime Minister.
Go back and read it again. The Conservatives were very nuanced about it—but did you notice the statement wasn’t actually so much about congratulating Trudeau as it was about not doing that? Pretty sneaky, right? It’s like, “Hey, good for you, you terrible person who is awful and also smells.”
Then again, I guess Harper had reason to crow, given that—according to his statement—he has personally created 900,000 new jobs for Canadians since we had the recession he said we couldn’t have because we hadn’t already had it. That’s about 740 new jobs per day created by one man and his plan. Where does the guy find time to watch TV?
In the meantime, building on the gracious spirit of the Conservative response to Trudeau’s victory, let’s look at some messages of “congratulations” that Stephen Harper and his party have put away for special occasions to come:
April 21, 2017: “We congratulate Justin Bieber on winning Album of the Year at the 2017 Juno Awards.
“Stephen Harper plays piano and is awesome at it and could have been a super-huge big-time rock star if only he hadn’t selflessly decided to forever change Canada by lowering the GST somewhat and doing other ‘governmenty’ stuff. Additionally, it is a well-known fact that the best girls prize substance over style. Rather than being a ‘Belieber,’ they are more likely to be a fan of the person who recently concluded foreign-investment protection agreements with both Senegal and Tanzania. That’s right—they all want to be a ‘BeStever.’
“Justin Bieber may have 62 million Twitter followers, untold riches and the panting, wide-eyed affection of every girl in a training bra, but in a time of global uncertainty, Stephen Harper was totally popular in
high school no matter how it looks from his yearbook photo.
“PS: Velour was in at the time.”
June 25, 2018: “We congratulate Kim Campbell on the twenty-fifth anniversary of becoming the first female prime minister of Canada.
“Stephen Harper has been Prime Minister for 24.3 times as long as Kim Campbell. That’s way longer. For example, if Kim Campbell’s time as prime minister was a single song (probably a lame, sappy one), Stephen Harper’s tenure would at this point be an awesome double-concept album about a handsome rogue with perfect, unmoving hair who saves the world from aliens by outsmarting them with his brain thoughts, piano solos and foreign-investment protection agreements with minor African nations.
“Kim Campbell may have lady parts, but in a time of global uncertainty, let’s remember what’s important: 24.3. Haha, did she even unpack? Probably not.”
July 18, 2019: “We congratulate Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge on the birth of their third child.
“Unlike a helpless, parasitic baby, Stephen Harper has the ability to pour his own juice. He can do math, hum in the shower and tie his own shoes (when his personal assistant has a day off). One time in university, he helped a friend haul a sofa bed upstairs, and those things weigh about a million pounds. Your move, infant prince.
“The Queen’s great-grandchild may have a famous family, but in a time of global uncertainty, you know what’s really cute and adorable? The ability to personally create 900,000 jobs out of thin air. Also, that velour sweater from high school. Stephen Harper totally made that thing work.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
One reason to fear the future of Canadian politics is the increasingly brazen fundraising campaigns being run by the parties. In March 2014, for example, the Conservative Party launched a fundraising campaign as part of a strategy to win the 2015 federal election. Let’s read between the lines of the online appeal from the party’s then-executive director, Dimitri Soudas. His words are in bold.
The Future and Why We Should Avoid It Page 8
