Democracy in Action!!!
Choosing my Canada here.
Since I am one of those “undecided” Canadians, I thought I’d spend a little time subjecting you to a thought exercise. This election has been on my mind for months and I’m no closer today to deciding who I’m going to vote for than I was in August. So, right here, right now, on this blog, I’m going to piece together my profoundly ill-informed thought process, let the chips fall where they may, or whatever, and decided on my vote for all to see. In the end it won’t matter, because my vote is just one more dull scream in the vacuum of principle that is Canadian politics. Thrills!
I will examine, in order: the parties, the party leaders, my riding, and my local candidates. First one to score a point wins.
THE PARTIES
The NDP
I’ve never much cared for the NDP. They’ve strayed a long way from their roots, in my opinion, which is to be the party representing rural Canadians and the working man, as per the commie CCF under Tommy Douglas, with a strong base in the Prairies. They are now the party of Toronto hipsters and environmental activists, and the Barenaked Ladies. Too often they are the de facto selection for centrists who can’t endorse the Liberals. The NDP will never win anything until they learn that those same Toronto hipsters will grow up to be Liberal supporters one day, and that they are not who their voter base should be. Get back to the farmers, the unions, and the working man, NDP, and I’ll consider giving you a shot. Also, be less socialist.
Les Conservateurs
I’m like every other Easterner: I’m not scared to death of these guys winning a term, but…I dunno. The amount of actual damage to social causes will be minimal, given that any right-wing social policy they enact will run the risk of torpedoing a good portion of their support in Ontario and Quebec. They won’t be able to mess up anything too badly if they want to get re-elected on their beloved fixed election date four years from tomorrow. And I’m not so sure I buy much of the Leftist panic out there: that Stephen Harper’s goal is to sell off Canada “wholesale” to the United States (or make us a 51st state; choose your hyperbole), that he’ll send troops to Iraq and Iran and put missiles in the sky to watch over us, that Western cowboys will run wild in the streets of Ottawa lassoing same-sex couples and hog-tying them down, etc. Granted, they do scare me a little (their recent gag order on their SoCon candidates being a good example, though I can understand the strategic motive here), but this is mitigated by a gut feeling that their administration will be fairly benign; the Senate is all Liberal (hence the CPC’s push for an elected one), and everyone east of Flin Flon and west of Fredericton is tenatively waving their vote over the ballot box waiting for Harper to take off his Stetson hat. To varying degrees, they will be politically punished for every inch they move towards the right. They know this (though it suprises me that they haven’t given up on same-sex, to be honest). In any case, I’m not in love with this party, and fear them slightly, but I hope and expect them to show my fears to be unfounded.
The Liberals
Where to begin. I don’t give a shit about Gomery. After being in power so long, I’m surprised they only swindled so little. I don’t think of them as any more corrupt as any other notional party would be after ruling the roost for thirteen years. These are politicians, remember, and it wasn’t so much money anyway. Unfortunately, though I’m not willing to crucify them for AdScam, there is no reason whatsoever to support this party, except for a stated preference for the bland sameness of empty platitudes, of high-profile Cabinet ministers with no qualifications, of “Choose your Canada”. It makes no sense to talk about left-versus-right in the context of the Liberals, because that would imply the existence of principles with lifetimes longer than the duration of the election campaign at hand. There is nothing I like about this Liberal Party.
Le Bloc Quebecois
Voting for this party would be a tribute paid to the concepts of (in no particular order): deceit of the public, false populism, the ruler complex, naked ambition disguised as a will to serve, revisionist history, racism, abuse of Parliamentary structures, governmental acts of illegality, patronage and nepotism, infighting, tying party stance to polls, fanatic regionalism, disregard for Aboriginal people, and outright contempt for the will of a theoretical maximum of 50% – 1 of the population of Quebec (3,784,319 people, as of this writing). Also: moral bankruptcy, as well as a good chance of the other kind. You would have to be a dupe or a fool, or held against your will, or espouse a general nihilism and hatred for all of humankind, to vote for this party.
The Greens
I thought this party had a chance to be something, but I have read far too much bad stuff about this gang lately. Gross ineptitude, a crass leader, mismanaged funds, no apparent platform. Pass.
Conclusion?
All look same.
THE LEADERS
Paul Martin – LIB
A swine. Seeing him stand over a crowd like a buzzard, his vacant eyes burning themselves on your retina every time he looks at the camera a certain way, the nervous laughter, the lengthy speeches composed entirely of bromides, his lame jokes and predictable gambits. This is a man trying to survive, and his campaign has been a sad farce. Example: he throws out a campaign promise to alter the Constitution without telling anyone (incl. his own party!!!!!11 OMG!), even though he has had years to put forth this major idea but felt the leader’s debate was the best time for it. The very next day his promise fails to show up in his party’s platform, compounding the embarrassment. It’s been full of this stuff. To be sure, we’re seeing Martin’s last days as a party leader, and I’m enjoying every minute of it. He should be placed on one of his own steamships and given a gentle shove towards some politically unstable nation. How about Haiti?
Stephen Harper – CPC
A shady character, who holds the unique distinction of at times appearing reasonable, intelligent, and poised, and at other times appearing not incongruous with a baby’s half-eaten head hanging out of his mouth. So many facets to this complex character. I wonder: 1) how did such a level-headed-seeming guy end up hooking up with the lunatic Canadian Alliance? And Stockwell Day? 2) The “European welfare state in the worst way” comments….. is that how he talks behind closed doors? Or has he mellowed since the heady days of keynoting ultra-right-wing policy conferences? Does he have more respect for the progressive social position than he did ten years ago? If he did, how would we be able to tell? 3) Is everything I know about conservative Western Canadians wrong? If so, how do they explain The Western Standard, the Alberta separatist movement, the anti-East animosity (some of it perfectly legit, yes, but still, it’s hard for the East to vote for a party whose voter base has valid and long-standing desires to stick it to them) and so on? Why is it that no matter how much we like and find sensible Harper’s proposals, we can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding behind us, ready to plant an axe in our backs? This is not a gratuitous question, and Harper hasn’t done much to answer it, I’m afraid. Until he is perfectly clear about who he represents, he’ll always be percieved by the East as being an employee of Big Oil, and the CPC will always be the Alberta Party, whether these speculations are true or not. Like I said above, I think most of the East’s fears are overstated, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t feel uneasy backing Harper. All-in-all, I find the guy confusing. He impresses me and repulses me at the same time. I didn’t realize, for example, that Harper is an expert on the game of hockey, and is writing a book on it even during this campaign. Did you? I like that. Also: he’s not a businessman! I like that too (side question: why is it that there are so many businesspeople running for office? Is politics just better suited to their skills, such as appearing professional, “networking”, and being rich? Or is there truth in the theory that business sector benefits disproportionately from the efforts of politicians, leading them to consider political influence as a form of business strategy?), and while I know not all businessmen are to be feared, well, I have an instinctive distrust, is all. But just when I’m about to like Harper, I remember: “European welfare state in the worst way.” So many questions, all of them answered in varying degrees, and none of them satisfactory.
Jack Layton
Ol’ Jack. Diminutive, but with an undeniable presence about him. Admittedly, he has had some great one-liners in this campaign, but that is about as useful as talking about his moustache. No matter how charismatic, how sincere, or how earnest this guy is, Jack just doesn’t strike me as the fearless leader type. I just don’t see this guy hanging out in dock workers union meetings and tilling soil and cleaning up all the discarded syringes in poor neighbourhoods. I see him reading blogs and listening to podcasts, and jogging, and feeling a silent pride when he buys his OC Transpo bus pass each month. I want to see him (and for that matter, Buzz Hargrove) breaking open shipyard gates with baseball bats and chaining himself to off-duty freighters until the workers get better conditions. Fuck this hippie stuff. Also, he got private health care at the Shouldice “without knowing it”, which would be like me walking in with a bottle of Château Ausone and acting like it’s something I found for $12 at the depanneur, tucked behind a row of Pringles.
Gilles Duceppe
Not worth discussing. A soothsayer, a charlatan, but ultimately a mere wagonwheel on the death caravan that is the separatist movement, carrying its diseased meat to the citizens.
Jim Harris?
No.
Conclusion?
I HATE EVRE WONN.
MY RIDING
Westmount-Ville Marie – “The district includes the City of Westmount as well as Old Montreal and the western part of downtown Montreal in the Borough of Ville-Marie, the western part of The Plateau in the Borough of Le Plateau-Mont-Royal and the eastern part of Notre-Dame-de-Grâce in the Borough of Côte-des-Neiges—Notre-Dame-de-Grâce in the City of Montreal.” (Wikipedia)
Other names: Angloville, Anglo McAngloville, Whitemount, Westminster, Carré de Tête, and That Place Andre Boisclair Wishes Would Be Annexed By Ontario.
There is not much to say about WVM. It’s (I assume) the richest riding in Montreal, with the highest proportion of university-educated citizens in the country. It is tomato-Red and has been so since the days of Samuel de Champlain. There is zero chance of the Liberals not winning, thus compounding the futility of this exercise. Oh and don’t say “vote anyway! it’s your only chance to use your democratic voice!” cause that’s a pretty bleak thought for me to ponder right now.
CANDIDATES
Lucienne Robillard – LIB
By all accounts a nondescript MP, known only for being a strong federalist. I can’t find a single notable achievement to comment upon. Her quote sheet in the Commons is full of things like “Mr. Speaker, we intend to work together with the provinces to combat global warming.” She will win easily, but that’s not the issue here. Do I support her? Well, I don’t know. I don’t explicitly not support her, I guess. My feeling is that I’m supporting something decent and sensible but ultimately meaningless in the grander scheme. I support her as much as I would support, say, the concept of matching your socks, or buying a used car without many miles on it for a good price. Or Taco Night.
Louise O’Sullivan – CPC
According to this take on the all-candidates meeting (which I’m disappointed I missed), Ms. O’Sullivan is not exactly popular amongst the urbanistas. She has a rather checkered history (fr) on the issue of same-sex marriage, having once been pro-gay rights, and now being endorsed by the traditional-marriage-lovin’ folks at Vote Marriage Canada. She is affiliated with the noxious Gerald Tremblay city council, a group that, after being re-elected didn’t even wait until its first day back in office to start lying. I smell crass ambition and the makings of a yes-[wo]man.
Eric Steedman – NDP
I don’t know shit about this guy. He worked at a Wall Street investment firm for four years, but is running as NDP. Curious. Here’s a business bio. “We favour sustainable economic growth that is more inclusive in terms of sharing the wealth and benefiting all sectors,†Steedman says. That might mean something. The above all-candidates meeting writeup had some good things to say about him, but those could well be partisan. I don’t trust anything. A good half-hour scouring the web for dirt on Steedman has turned up the horrific truth: he has an MBA from McGill. On the plus side, he hasn’t punched a single old lady to date. We have a winner.
Decision:
Steedman in a pathetic landslide. Or, I’m eating my fucking ballot.
This has been your yearly Exercise in Democracy. Join me next time, as I’ll be living in the woods of Moose Factory, ON, after having given up on civilization. Don’t forget to exercise your frail, adenoidal democratic voice tomorrow.
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Ra Ra Ra
From About.com’s guide to pronouncing the French R:
- Open your mouth.
- Close your throat and carefully enunciate the sound K, several times.
- Pay attention to where in your throat the K sound is made. We’ll call this the K place.
- Begin slowly closing your throat, as if to keep from swallowing a mouthful of liquid, until you can almost feel the K place. Your throat should be only partially constricted.
- Tense the muscles around the K place.
- Gently push air through your partially constricted throat.
- Practice saying Ra-Ra-Ra (where R = steps 4-6) every day.
I know I can’t be the only tête-carré out there who finds the French R nearly impossible to say, even if I slow my enunciation down to a dribble. Not all instances of this cruel uvular fricative are problematic, but they definitely aren’t easy. Most of the time I can get away with one by hiding it inside a faster word with a de-emphasized R (say, “fromage”), but if ever is a time when I need two R’s in short succession (e.g. “programme”, “infrastructure”), well, I sound like I’m choking on a gobstopper. Maybe I’ll add these exercises to my gym routine, so three days a week I can look even more ridiculous than I already do, whirling away on the elliptical machine while emitting syncopated, throaty “ra”s.
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Child is Father of the Man
Reading and writing are the bedrock of my mental life. In my past, computers and technology occupied a lot of this territory as well, but today less so. Since my life as I experience it dwells very little in the realm of contemplation and mostly in the realm of repetition, anxiety, and paranoia, having any kind of bustling inner life requires a certain freedom from time constraints, as well as comfortable environs where one can loosen up mentally, hitting the cerebral hum known as “flow” or “the peak experience”.
Lately, this experience is one I seldom have. I find myself constantly pushing back against forces that might impinge on my personal sovereignty. Jobs, people, commitments, all wanted at various times and in varying amounts by me, but not all at once. I’m terrible at saying No, and at times I delude myself into thinking I could become what one refers to as “prolific”, juggling a busy social life while producing lots of work in various capacities (playing in a band, writing novels and newspaper articles, and consulting for Fortune 500 companies on the side, say) and having enough time left over to talk to Mom on the phone.
But I am not prolific. I am a wanderer, who sits down at the keyboard when he gets the urge, and at no other time. Even if I do waste a lot of time, I want to. It is in my blood. The very concept of “time management” is wholly unnatural to me, though I try; time simply passes, and I’m either aware of it or not. Most of the time these days, I am quite aware of it. A little too much.
Take waking up in the morning. I am a horrible cheater when it comes to the snooze button, and am willing to justify my irresponsible, lazy behaviour with delusions. You see, rather than being a chronic snoozer, my virtue lies in my never having used it once. Not once in my life. That snooze button signifies a subservience to technology and structure in which your pitiful, unshaven, slovenly carcass lurches over and asks ten more minutes of its master. Just ten more, please, then I’ll be good and get up and throw myself at this day, I promise. Well, I subvert by instead turning off the alarm entirely and relying on my body clock to wake me at the correct time. Often, I set the alarm ahead a little and turn it back on, but not always. Almost without exception, my body deems it necessary to wake only when there is absolutely no time left to spare, setting off a cascade of last-minute arrivals and skin-of-my-teeth bobs and weaves through my day.
Yes, this is how I live.
To me, structured time is the great enemy, the killer of all human activity not related to subservience and the straight path through life, lives ruled by rhythmic obligation and meted motions. We all know it, and some of us accept and even thrive in it. I’m jealous of those people on many levels, and not only because those are the levels best rewarded in the Real World. I can’t help but think of those people as “successful”. They’ve won the game, mastered the habits through years of practice, like the painful ritual of daily piano scales. The world is not structured to benefit of wanderers like me. There was never a time in my life when I hadn’t had trouble being on time, being in a certain place doing an established activity at the behest of someone else. School is, in many senses, the teaching and ingraining of rigid structure. The Victorian traditions haunt us still. Early to bed, early to rise, etc. Chronic lateness and inattention dot my scholastic history, as well as an aptitude for observing things outside the window. I am always happiest when I don’t know what time it is. When I look at the clock on my cell phone and it says 5:42 AM, and I can’t piece together the previous seven hours, that’s when I’m happiest. And being the wanderer that I am, the way for me to get more done here is to cultivate the lifestyle conditions that allow me, naturally, to wander over to the keyboard more often.
This is why my New Year’s Resolution, if I am indeed to choose one, is to be more like a child. I want my playtime, my computer games, my bike, and my goddamned naptime. No more clocks, no more schedules, and a lot more sleeping in. This shall be the year of Disorder.
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.– William Wordsworth
(I also vow not to dwell on this topic any longer.)
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