Before I Forget...

I'm hiding in the Islands for the next few days, non-blogismentis.

Hope to come ablogging again Saturday or Sunday.

Be well.

Eat a peach.

Wear your pantlegs rolled...

BAH HUMBUG

Some mornings I just don't have the stomach for it...

So here, in no particular order of merit or importance, are the day's stories and my grizzled reactions:

* IGGY POPS. Denis Coderre steps away from the Ig Camp, saying "If you want to have what you want in Quebec, all you have to do is short-circuit the party's Quebec authorities by talking to the leader's inner circle in Toronto,” Then, he adds that he is still supporting the Ig. So for the moment, Iggy is revealed to be a naif at politics even within his own toy soldiers.

Will this harm the man in the long run? Probably not.

Which leads us to the question What did Jack Claypot get for his support of Harper? What did the country get?

Nothing that I can see.

* Two low-level drug clowns from Kamloops are living in Puerta Vallarta with no known means of support. They have a Benz, a Hummer and a Ford pickup parked outside their condo. Bad guys execute them.

Moral of the story?

Low-level drug clowns from Kamloops are probably ill-advised to mess with the Mexican drug cartels.

* A man drugged and raped a 13-year old girl. After serving 42 days in a prison for psychiatric evaluation, the man flew to England and then France. Now, many years later, the American government have arrested him in Switzerland, and plan to bring him back stateside to face the music he began low those many years ago.

Oh, the man is famous.

His name is Roman Polanski and he makes movies, often memorable movies.

What if he was Michelangelo or Beethoven? What if he was Bill Smith or Sam Jones?

Here is what Mr. Polanski must do.

He must go back to California and shut up and deal with whatever may follow. Most likely, it will all be horrible as an experience, but, given that he can afford wonderful legal advice, his legal punishment will probably be not especially severe.

* The Dominion Hotel has been refurbished and now houses 63 poor people, some of whom are cleaned up addicts, some of whom are using drug addicts.

The folks trying to run businesses on the street level are complaining.

The new tenants, they say, toss food and syringes out the windows. They leave shopping carts outside the building and spit on the sidewalk. A clothing store owner said she watched a man beat up his girlfriend on the sidewalk outside her shop.

I mention this because almost daily I watch the new housing project for addicts and the mentally ill going up at 16th and Dunbar.

I welcome programs that work, run by people who know how to run programs. And yes, I welcome them next door to me.

But programs run by politically motivated and ignorant governments are not welcome in my neighbourhood.

I think the folks at 16th and Dunbar have much to look forward to - and most of it will be disgusting.

* Glenn Beck is on the cover of Time magazine.

I stopped reading Time magazine when I was eleven and realized that I was reading the weekly status quo report.

I've seen Beck exactly once and dismissed him for the buffoon that he is.

In Mr. Beck's view of the world, Mr. Obama doesn't like white people very much and is conspiring to turn the United States into socialist state. Mr. Beck sees this plot lurking behind nearly everything Washington does - the bailouts, the stimulus package, the push for health care reform and the roster of "czars" working at the White House.

All of which has made him a huge success. Radio and TV talk shows, books, T-shirts, stand-up.

Having recovered from drug and alcohol abuse, Beck is now a Mormon.

Is it part of Mormon teaching to be consistently cruel and rude and incendiary and inflammatory and remarkably close to a public menace?

No.

But it is THE essential part of the American dream to be "successful" at almost any cost.

* Most days I walk past the homeless and turn my eyes away. Occasionally, with no particular rhyme or reason, I stop and chat and give someone a couple of bucks.

Yesterday, a bone-thin man with saggy pants was hawking roses at a traffic Island on Pacific Boulevard near the Science World.

The poor shall always be amongst you. I believe it was Jesus who said that.

But some days, life's cruelties are easier to absorb than others.

Bah Humbug.

Maybe tomorrow I'll offer some music.