Believe me, I'm not big on Michael Ignatieff or the Liberal Party of Canada, but when it comes to defending someone against over the top and ridiculous political correctness I can befriend anyone.
That's why I'm here to defend Ignatieff against his so-called racial slur in Ottawa last week. When pounding away at the Conservatives he used the phrase "cotton pickin' minute." This is such a glorious example of political correctness gone wild.
Conservative Senator Don Meridith issued a statement denouncing Ignatieff's use of the phrase.
"The reference hails back to a time when slavery was acceptable and an entire group of people were held to be lesser than others because of the colour of their skin."
What a heapin' steamin' pile of crap. And the reason it is, is very simple. Not all people who picked cotton in the American south were black. As a matter of fact it is well documented that many people, black and white picked cotton as a means of survival through the 17th and 18th centuries, and that's where the phrase started.
The job was so harsh and difficult, for all races, the term became a gentleman's substitute for fuck, shit and c&*#.
During the early 20th century cotton pickin' minute referred to the speed at which one picked cotton and it was used as a measurement of payment, and from what I've gathered over the years, slaves didn't get paid - that's what made them slaves.
And yes I know, one might argue that generally speaking, based selective history, cotton pickin' could be wrestled into being a racist phrase, but I thought one of the main pillars of political correctness was to "not" generalize.
Yesterday was a bad day for Toronto, and it had nothing to do with the Leafs failure to make a significant trade on deadline day.
It was a bad day because two cases of crimes against humanity were revealed and in both cases the perpetrators should pay dearly.
I don't know where to begin with that asshole in Markham who moved his elderly mother into his uninsulated garage. Imagine that, his mother became a bit of burden, so rather than get her the necessary help; he put her in the garage.
All the gruesome details are available in your local newspapers, but the past can't be undone, what matters now is the future and I can't wait to see what punishment this guy gets.
That seems to be the critical breakdown of our society today, failing to hand out adequate punishment to those who severely affect the lives of others.
Like rapists, wife beaters and the kind of scum that would banish his mother to a garage because she has incontinence.
I'm also anxious to see what happens to the crew that blew hundreds of thousands of dollars while running the Toronto Community Housing Corporation.
How convenient the city now has a mayor with balls who will sniff out the culprits and go to every length possible to punish them to the full extent.
To be honest, I'm not surprised by this. In fact it's so Toronto. During the Miller regime the city was full of bleeding hearts who were allowed to run wild and pretend they were acting in the best interests of the people, while helping themselves to wide variety of freebies.
This latest controversy is the height of betrayal. While supposedly looking after the interests of the poor, and continuously claiming they were underfunded, the leaches who ran the TCHC were living like kings with lavish parties, weekend getaways and spa treatments.
This is a crime against every citizen of Toronto.
I really hope this goes beyond job loss, I hope it goes into grounds from criminal charges.
If you frequent this blog you know that a lot of things piss me off. A lot of things piss off a lot of people I'm sure, but it's nice to have blog where you can actually put it in writing.
Just to give you the heads up, we're entering a whole new frontier of piss-off for me, and it's called the Royal Wedding.
I can't stand anything royal. Royal is archaic to me. It's disgusting and wrong and so yesterday.
It bugs the living shit out of me that in the year 2011 there is still something called the Royal Family, and it's still honoured, respected and revered. How ridiculous that millions still acknowledge a system that rewards someone simply for being born.
How tragic that one family should reap so much from a country that so many contribute to. How silly that people still bow down to a person that has done absolutely nothing to achieve their status.
How disappointing that something like a goddamn wedding could capture the imagination of so many. I've gotta tell ya, the upcoming Royal Wedding hasn't even got rolling yet, and already I'm sick of it.
Between now and April 29th I'm sure it's going to become over the top nauseating, as we learn about Kate's dress, William's tux, the flowers, the cake and the freakish guest list. This thing is going to be attacked from every angle possible and provide fluffy fodder for every bloody entertainment show between here and Jupiter.
And for what? What have these two kids done to deserve the attention this will get?
The answer is nothing, nothing other than William being birthed by Diana who married Charles who was squeezed through the loins of Elizabeth. And don't get me started on Elizabeth, all she's done is be born into the same family and then hog the Queen thing a lot longer than she should have.
That civilized society allows this stuff to continue in the 21st century absolutely blows my mind. That the people of England still support this nonsense makes me wonder about their priorities.
That the world will stand still on April 29th is pathetic.
There has to be explanation for what's happening to several middle-aged stars that have destroyed their faces in their quest to remain young.
It really is bizarre. Do they not learn from each other?
The formerly beautiful and natural Suzanne Somers showed up on the Marilyn Denis Show last month and it was absolutely shocking. A woman who was a show-stopping knockout just a few years ago, a woman who was aging gracefully, is now uncomfortable to look at.
At 54 Suzanne Somers was still stunning and aging with a mature flair and attractiveness that would still make men half her age turn their heads. But for some reason, over the past ten years Suzanne decided to screw with nature and change something that didn't need to change.
I realize she has bought into a whole pile of whippy-dippy hormonal theories and therapies, but you think she would have learned from so many before her, that one hundred percent of the time, when you start sticking needles in your face the result is worse than the starting point.
Aging naturally means aging gracefully and to a lot of guys that can be super turn-on, and a beautiful young woman, if she does her scheduled maintenance usually turns out to be a beautiful older woman.
Did Suzanne not look around and see all the disasters that preceded her? Did she not seek advice from Mary Tyler Moore and Joan Rivers?
Yes, there must be a reason for this. Someone should research the subject and see if there is some weird party drug that was making the rounds in Hollywood a couple of decades ago.
Maybe it had delayed affects that manifested years later in a twisted desire to become frightening.
I got a facebook message from my good friend and former colleague Jeff Domet today. It simply said, "Freedom Fucker - Finally."
Jeff Domet is currently a big shot over at Sirius Satellite Radio, producing CBC's Hockey Night in Canada Show with Jeff Marek.
Humble and Fred fans may remember him as Chicken Shwarma, who joined us while we were at The Edge, and then came with us to MOJO.
Anyway, I assume his message means he got his little Shwarma sack vasectomized because Freedom Fucker is a term I used around the Edge way back before my prostate enlarged.
Shwarma has fathered two beautiful children which I'm sure was quite the ordeal for his lovely wife Michelle during nightly conception attempts. I can't imagine what it would be like to have Shwarma naked on top of me, grunting away until he shmorped. She must hold her breath, close her eyes and dream of truffles.
But that's not what this is about. It's more about advice. Advice I can offer after having been through a vasectomy myself.
Shwarmy, look after yourself. Do everything the doctor told you to do for the next 48 hours. I didn't and I paid for it.
I had the vasectomy on a Friday and I was instructed to take it easy until Monday when I could resume a normal lifestyle. Until then, I was to lie on the couch and do nothing. (wait a second, that was my normal lifestyle.)
Relax said the doctor, stay on your back and keep applying a bag of frozen peas on your fellas until at least Sunday night. But for some reason, I just couldn't do it. In some weird way I took it as a challenge. I would be the one guy who didn't need to follow the rules.
By Saturday afternoon I was bored, and there was absolutely no swelling down in my cockal region so I got up off the couch, walked outside and grabbed a rake, which turned out to be the absolute worst thing I could do. I rarely bothered to rake leaves, but for some reason I chose this occasion to rake goddamn leaves.
By Sunday morning my baggage was black and blue and twice its size. By Monday morning I walked into the doctor's office like I shit myself and had to sit there while he laughed at me shaking his head.
He claimed there would be no permanent damage, but to go home again and follow the original instructions. I did and my boys deflated over three or four days.
However, because I had put them to such a horrific test, they remained sensitive and two weeks later after I went ten pin bowling, I went through the whole ordeal all over again.
Needless to say, I didn't so much lift a fork over the next month or so.
To this day I'm convinced there were severe side effects. I'm convinced the two traumas to my scrotum actually made my gazunga shrink, and this is going to be extremely embarrassing next summer when our trailer park goes natural.
Shwarma, you hairy little beast, stay on your back.
I'm starting to take some more nasty heat because I haven't posted much in the past week, but I have a legitimate excuse.
I've been schoolin'.
Corus Entertainment is a forward thinking company, committed to personal and professional development and I love it.
Not only do they offer something called Corus U, which is a series of ongoing and extremely beneficial development courses, they also take advantage of more intense courses that are offered outside the company.
And that's what I've been doing all week. In Kingston.
I've taken a whack of one day courses offered through Corus U but this one at St. Lawrence College stretches over five days and goes from 8:30 till 4:30. That's a lot of learnin' Lucy.
It's called "Leadership for Managers."
By the end of the day you're exhausted, but remarkably fulfilled. I jump at the opportunity to learn and grow, not only because I'm in my mid 50's and attempting to re-invent myself, but also because I love the environment.
Within the walls of a college I always get this exhilarating feeling of optimism. Everything is forward. Everybody there is learning something with their future in mind. The intention is to position yourself for what's ahead.
Obviously I'm referring mainly to the young people who run up and down the halls, but it also applies to mature students and old bastards like me who was forced into reloading.
Over the past week at St. Lawrence not only have I learned tons about managing, change and leadership, I've also learned a lot about myself, and one of the most enlightening aspects of that was that I'm still capable of concentrating, digesting and regurgitating what I've learned.
I'll be honest, I was concerned about that and it's handy because when it reaches the point where what you really love to do is no longer wanted, it's time to learn something new.
Anyway, I guess the point of this posting was to address the several e-mails I've received from people who tend to get downright nasty when I don't write for a few days. I'd like to think they do it because they like what I write, but I'm not sure about that.
But I can offer this, based on some of what I've learned this week.
If you want something out of somebody. Take the high road.
I imagine when Eric Brazau decided to go to the funeral of Sgt. Ryan Russell with a sign that read "soldiers die, electricians die and people die - no police state" he was looking for a reaction.
And he got one. He was arrested, held for several hours and then released with no charges.
Obviously this will be a juicy story for those who love to jump all over authority whenever they can, but this story isn't about laws or rules or rights.
Apparently Brazau is a career agitator and he went to the funeral because he thought it was over the top and he wanted to test the waters even more after the G-20 debacle.
He wanted to test his ability to protest against the grain, even though he was standing at the funeral of young police officer who had been murdered on the job.
He got his answer.
It wasn't the police who went after Brazau, it was a regular citizen who took exception with Brazau gross disregard for timing. Brazau was knocked to the ground and the result of the ensuring commotion was an arrest for "breach of the peace."
Again, I'm sure there are all kinds of people lickin' their lips over this one. How dare the police arrest this man, how dare they interrupt his right to protest, how dare they hold him for several hours and then not charge him."
And you know what? All those questions might be legitimate, and Brazau's claim that he should have every right to do what he did might be correct also, yes by all means, it's a free country.
But to my mind, all that is overshadowed by an intangible. Basic human decency.
To choose this day, at this event, given the magnitude of the situation tells you all you need to know about Eric Brazau.