The scientific world is all agog because many new life forms and species have been found in Borneo, including a lungless frog.
Big deal.
Those wildlife researchers should come to Canada.
We have two heartless premiers.
The one in B.C. doesn't care about children or old people and the one in Ontario has also lost his balls.
What the video post below doesn't say it that the lyrics for "Waltz for Debby" were written by Canadian Jazz Great, Gene Lees, who has passed away at the age of 82.
"In her own small world,
Captivated by dolls and clowns and a Prince and big purple bear,
Lives my favorite girl,
Unaware of the worried frowns that her weary parents all wear..."
I have a particular fondness for this song.
Whenever I am walking or driving to a speaking engagement or performance gig of any kind, part of my warm-up routine includes singing this piece. When I do, always think of my beautiful daughter, Catherine.
Tony Bennett recorded the tune with Bill Evans and it is way beyond great.
I had the great pleasure of interviewing Gene on the radio a few thousand years ago and he was, in addition to being a fount of jazz lore & info, a lovely and charming guy.
When he wasn't being the editor of "Down Beat," or writing books about jazz greats, or a thousand and one other tasks, Lees wrote the English lyrics for a few little pieces, like Jobim's "Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars."
We've lost a good one.
While Gordon Campbell, our Monumental Premier, likes to think of himself as the Treaty and Land Claims Premier, Ontario's Dalton McGuinty has fashioned himself as the "Education Premier."
Not so fast there, Bunky.
Now, he may be known henceforth as Mr. Back Down or the Big Switch.
Or just plain Wishy Washy Guy.
Yesterday, we spoke in this space about plans for more sex education in Ontario schools.
In fact, sex ed has been around for a donkey's age and the new plan was just a re-working of things and it had been trotted out and dissected for two years before its current version.
But, as we discussed yesterday, fundamentalist religionistas hit the bricks swinging.
How dare you talk to our kids about these dirty birds and bees? Leave it to us parents to screw them up.
And today...in response to this minority of cave dwellers and wagon pullers, the good Premier has reversed his position and pulled the program.
What a dork.
Canada is a puritanical country.
Not as much as God, Guns & Glory America, of course. Nobody on earth is as uptight about nature as yer Yanquis.
But we are holding our own, so to speak.
We are so bad at making babies that we have to import entire civilizations to give the census takers something to do.
Let's hear it for Dalton McGuinty, a man so afraid of his own shadow that he overrides his own education ministry and thousands of people who have slaved over a process and a program that he knows damn little about because a TV evangelist goes postal on him.
Man up, Sugar Plum.
Being intimidated by a handful of wacko "believers" is not leadership.
The Globe & Mail is reporting on their web edition that Ujjal Dosanjh is the target of assassination threats on a Facebook site.
“It'd be much more appropriate to pierce him with bullets, not compassion,” the posting said.
The RCMP are investigating.
Please read the story here.
Sick. Sickening.
And in New York, the writers and producers of the racy TV cartoon show, South Park, have also received death threats over a recent Muhammad satire.
Madness abounds.
In France, a woman driver wearing an Islamic face veil has been fined by French police for not having a clear field of vision.
Good luck with that.
The Premier likes to think he is the best friend in the whole wide world of aboriginals.
When he's not appearing somewhere or other for a photo op waring a turban, he's wearing a headdress or an eagle feather.
In his delusion, he is the "land claims settlement Premier."
How pleasant it must be for him to wake up this morning and learn that BC Natives have joined the Van Der Zalm war against the HST.
Of course, if I were Chief Stewart Phillip, head of the Union of B.C. Indian Chiefs and I wrote a letter to Colin Hansen only to brushed off with a short reply and a refusal to meet, I'd be on the warpath too.
Do Hansen and Campbell not communicate?
Or does Campbell only see Indian Chiefs when it's convenient for him?
“We are no longer the flavour of the month, the Premier has moved on to further grandiose projects, like the billions of dollars for the Olympics or the Site C dam,” Mr. Phillip said.
Meanwhile Big Biz is busily defending the HST.
One of their brighter spokespersons said, "This petition isn't about the HST. It seems to be about dissatisfaction with the government."
Hahahahaha.
WRONG AGAIN, BLACKBERRY BREATH.
It is entirely about the $$$$$$.
It is about families taxed to the max.
It is about haircuts and bicycles costing more.
Of course, for Mr. Howe Street, a few kopeks here or there will hardly cut into the morning latte. I'm alright, Jack. What me, worry?
That's the trouble with the tailored suit crowd - just a little out of touch.
Zalm's anti-HST campaign may or may not pull of the come-from-behind.
But it certainly clears the nostrils and draws the lines between the haves and have nots, a dichotomy carved out so cleanly by this Premier over recent years.
Ignorance is also power.
Perverse power.
The Ontario government wants more sex ed in public classrooms.
But wait.
Christians and Muslims strenuously object.
Why should children or adolescents have any knowledge or awareness of bodily functions, contraception, abortion, homosexuality, masturbation, gender differences and issues or any of the other myriad mysteries that are part of the puzzle called sex?
No.
Better they should wear tents and be treated like livestock.
Better they should be preached to about abstinence.
Understand and information are dangerous.
That's why we must leave all this to those ignoramuses we laughingly call parents.
In a perfect world, it would be lovely to think that parents in their wisdom would share and dispense such knowledge with their virgin off-spring.
But they don't.
The fact is they don't.
Proof of the pudding?
The Netherlands, where sex ed has been compulsory in all secondary schools for an ice age, has among the lowest teenage pregnancy rates in the world.
No.
Keep 'em in the dark.
Cover them head to foot in dark shrouds.
That'll really help things along.
Pittsburgh Steelers Quarterback Ben Roethlisberger, who has been suspended for six games, may or may not be the biggest A-hole in the league.
But this action by NFL commissioner Roger Goodell "for violating the league's personal conduct policy," is all window dressing and pure bull.
Twice in recent years, Roethlisberger has been charged bu police with sexual assault. Twice the charges have been dropped or he has been found not guilty.
That, of course, hardly confirms his "innocence."
But, unless the commissioner is privy to some information that we don't have, it makes this kind of punishment a PR stunt and not much else.
How does the NFL attempt with a straight face to present itself to the world as a clean family entertainment?
Aside from the regular scourge of screaming, violent drunken louts in the stands, the league is peopled with creeps, criminals and miscreants.
This is a business that awards often ignorant, certainly young, men with millions of dollars, who easily become part of a guns 'n girls culture.
There are revered murderers playing in those stadiums every Sunday. They line up against felons of practically every stripe.
The biggest job most NFL managers has is keeping the players from ruining their own lives each week. It is the most expensive baby-sitting job on the planet.
Sitting out all six games would cost Roethlisberger an estimated $2.8 million of his $102-million total deal.
He is a sacrificial goat. He is being burned on a fake altar for a dirty mass illusion.
Come September, the only legal butts on the beach will be the naked ones at Wreck.
Smoking is on the way out.
Yes, it seems extreme and draconian and largely difficult to enforce.
But a simple unarguable fact is staring us in the face.
As smoking has been increasingly banned in public places, cardiac health problems have decreased dramatically.
On Vancouver Island, for example, a cardio surgeon was recently cut from staff as unneeded.
“I think what we are doing to this country is that this idea of multiculturalism has been completely distorted, turned on its head to essentially claim that anything anyone believes – no matter how ridiculous and outrageous it might be – is okay and acceptable in the name of diversity.
“Where we have gone wrong in this pursuit of multiculturalism is that there is no adherence to core values, the core Canadian values, which [are]: That you don’t threaten people who differ with you; you don’t go attack them personally; you don’t terrorize the populace.”
And the speaker is???
None other than Ujjal Dosanjh, former Liberal cabinet minister and onetime B.C. premier, who says Sikh extremism is on the rise in some parts of the country, and blamed, in part, “politically correct” Canadians who let it happen in the name of diversity.
Amen to that.
And good on you for saying so.
A glock, a silencer, eight guns, bulletproof vests, ammo, drug outfits, coke and H.
Enough for a conviction?
Wrong again, plea bargain breath!
Not in B.C.
Turns out the guys had many, many big parties in their condo, so who knows who all that stuff really belongs to, your honour.
Moral of the Story?
Party On!
It'll guarantee you a walk.
It's the oldest trick in the book.
Someone accuses you of an offense or charges you with an offense.
You sue them.
You say the accuser's charges are "frivolous and vexatious."
So why should we be surprised by today's headline?
For some time now, I have been calling Gordon Campbell the "Monumental Premier."
Not only has he proven me right, but now he has become a kind of parody or caricature of himself.
When I see him posed before one mega-project after another, I find myself thinking of that Southern-Fried Senatorial cartoon chicken, Foghorn Leghorn.
"Boy - I say, Boy - can you not see the glory of this design?"
So yesterday, in a flight of complete irresponsibility, Foghorn...uh, I mean Campbell, flies 120 folks in five jets up to some obscure landing strip in the North Country to announce his GREAT LEGACY - the site C Dam Project.
Or, if you're an environmentalist, the Site C Damn Project.
He schleps WAC Bennett's grandson along for the haul, just in case any one missed the GREAT HISTORICAL context of this MONUMENTAL ANNOUNCEMENT.
He could have shone a foto image of the reservoir on the legislature walls behind him while he made the announcement for a buck and a quarter, but now it's out with the Lear jets.
Now, I can't rightly comment on whether or not this project is good policy.
But what I can say confidently is this:
The Monumental Premier is all about BIG.
He has consistently over many years now shown no interest in small things and in "the little people."
And that's a crying shame.
To be more exact, that's his shame.
Because both God and the devil are in the details - the little things, which Foghorn sublimely ignores.
And the teachers and nurses and children and grandparents and Mom & Pop shop owners are the heart of this province.
It is his shame - and it will be his legacy - that he gave such scant attention to the region's beating heart.
Let's see if I understand this.
The BC government is going to add to our tax woes by hitting us over the head soon with the so-called Harmonized (mmmmmmm...) Sales Tax.
But that's not enough of a punishment.
Now Colin Hansen has decided to spend our tax money on a government mail-out to every blessed household in the realm to explain how wonderful the HST is and how evil the NDP is for saying otherwise.
First they tax us and then they spend our money to tell us that taxing us is good.
Where is George Orwell when you really need him.
"It tarnishes the community. It tarnishes the South Asian people and it tarnishes the city. And it’s unacceptable.”
That's Surrey Mayor, Dianne Watts, the best Mayor and possibly the best politician in Canada right now, speaking about the famous Sikh parade.
Madame Mayor rocks.
The numbers are a big part of the story.
63,000.
That's the number of flights cancelled in or into or out of Europe since Thursday.
3
That's the one day percentage drop in airline shares on Friday.
$1 Billion
That's the estimated loss in airline revenue.
Can you say, "Eyjafjallajokull Volcano, boys and girls?"
Me neither.
More importantly, this modest visit from Ma Nature is threatening the whole tender economy of the EU.
Air shipments of fresh fruit and exotic vegetables from the Mediterranean, flowers from North Africa, grain from Asia and transplant organs from across Europe have been suspended for five days, leading to shortages and some reports of panic buying.
Schools are closed, exams are postponed. Somewhere in Brussels, a girl has found Jesus because the volcano was sent to give her more time to prepare for that geography test she'd been avoiding.
Tourism has been especially hit and thousands of people are basically living in airports.
Imagine that fun.
Like visiting the lovely washrooms.
You're in Vancouver.
Sans earthquakes; sans volcanic debris.
So far.
The sun is almost out.
Count your blessings.
'Victor' is a friend whose comments I post here from time to time. I especially loved the last line about "currying" favour...
When I was a kid in the 50's, there were Catholic and protestant
Parades. The Catholics, of which I am one, would have a parade
organized by the Knights of Columbus, complete with statues and
crucifixes. The Protestants would have an Orange Day parade, complete
with a King Billy on a white horse. These overtly religious parades
pissed off people in both religious camps so they were dropped around
1960.
I strongly believe that religious parades have no place in modern
Canada. That applies to Catholics, Protestants, Muslims, Sikhs, Jews
etc. On that basis, I fail to see how Sikhs can tie up city blocks and
draw down vast amounts of city resources for what is essentially a
religious parade with free food. If there are to be further Vaisaki
parades, they should be licensed only on the basis that they are a
Spring celebration and must include opportunities for participation
by other groups. (Hindu, Muslim, Gay, Aboriginal, whatever). That's
how St. Patrick's Day parades work in New Your and Chicago.
If the Sikh community is unwilling to do that, their bigotry will be
exposed and politicians will no longer feel blackmailed into currying
favour with a large voting block.
The first time I saw "The Talented Mr. Ripley" (1999), I was disappointed.
And that was even before I learned that the original complete title was "The Mysterious Yearning Secretive Sad Lonely Troubled Confused Loving Musical Gifted Intelligent Beautiful Tender Sensitive Haunted Passionate Talented Mr. Ripley."
But over the years, as I have seen it many, many times on TV, it has become one of my favorite guilty pleasures. Like "The Way We Were" (1973), which I actually walked out of in disgust, but now I cannot help but watch every time it appears on the box, "Ripley" falls into that large category we can call Not a Great Movie By Any Stretch, But Boy Do I Ever Enjoy Watching it.
Look at the list of Oscar winners involved in "Ripley."
Anthony Minghella, Director (The English Patient); Matt Damon (Good Will Hunting); Gwyneth Paltrow (Shakespeare in Love); Cate Blanchett (The Aviator) and Philip Seymour Hoffman (Capote.)
An that's not even counting Jude Law, who as Dickie Greenleaf almost stole the movie entirely. Except, of course, for Hoffman's wonderful turn as the too-clever-for-his-own-good-by-a-half Freddie Miles.
What keeps drawing me back to this schlock?
Well, the fact that much of it is filmed in Italy doesn't hurt as I have spent a lot of time over the last 15 years there, so just seeing many of those locations and hearing the language sends me back vicariously.
The central character, Tom Ripley, makes up much of his life as he goes along, following always some curious inner script.
Without copping to murder or any other crimes, I can identify with that.
Ripley, of course, is the creation of the great writer, Patricia Highsmith, who continued Ripley's lunatic adventures in a few other novels.
"Ripley's Game" (2002), with John Malkovich as an adult and still treacherous conniver, is not nearly as good a flick, but two things make it thoroughly watchable.
The first, of course, is Malkovich, who could make reading a Wikepedia entry on practically anything watchable.
And the second is the Palladian mansion used as Ripley's house in the movie. It's worth the price of the rental just to take an inside look at one of the great designs by one of the world's greatest architects.
And speaking of Highsmith...
Last night, TCM ran the movie version of her book, "Strangers on a Train" (1951), a wonderful classic from Alfred Hitchcock.
This terrific film, includes among other great moments, Hitch getting on a train carrying a bass fiddle. Hahahaha!
Farley Granger and Robert Walker, both huge stars at the time had curiously shortened careers.
Walker, because he died at such a young age. He was an alcoholic, and a combination of medicines provided by his shrink killed him.
Granger, because, although he has continued to work sporadically in films and TV all his life, he really hated Hollywood and bolted for New York, where he enjoyed working for some years on stage.
Granger was married for a short while to Shelley Winters.
I had the pleasure of spending an hour on the telephone with Shelley Winters, broadcasting in 1983. She told me that she called him "Farfel," which is basically matzoh crushed up into little pieces for baking or for a breakfast cereal. When I was a kid, who knew from Corn Flakes? I practically lived on farfel until my obsession with kosher hot dogs kicked in.
"Strangers on a Train," by the way, is currently being re-made.
Why?
It's only perfect as is.
