Category: Rants

WANTED

Have you seen this little bastard? If you have, turn his worthless ass in now, because he’s not going to be safe for long if he runs into the wrong man on the street anytime soon.

In case you’re wondering, this disgusting little snot got it into his vacant skull that it would be a jolly idea to celebrate Canada Day by PISSING ON THE NATIONAL WAR MEMORIAL!

My advice: if you see this little shit, call a cop right quick, before somebody horse-whips his worthless hide for desecrating the memory of the very men who are responsible for the fact that he can’t speak German.

We’ve been enduring quite a bit of finger wagging lately, mostly from the usual suspects, admonishing us not to criticize immigration or refugee policies because all of the accused terrorists busted in the GTA last weekend were “home grown.” I’d really like to know what these people’s definition of “home grown” is.

From what I’ve been able to gather on the adult suspects so far (we aren’t allowed to know anything about any of the little would-be murderers under the age of 18 that were busted), we have one from Egypt, two from Pakistan, two from Somalia and one Saudi. I haven’t found anything conclusive that says any of them were born here, although there is a strong suggestion that Fahim Ahmad may have been but I haven’t been able to confirm it yet.

Doesn’t sound too damned home grown to me.

Canada may have been built by immigrants, but it sure as hell wasn’t built by anyone like this bunch. Sooner of later, we’re all going to have to get it through our heads that there are some people that just aren’t good enough to be let into this country and when we find them here, we need to get rid of them.

Well, that’s it. I think I’ll sit back now and see how long it’ll take for someone to come along and play the race card…

Holy double standards, Batman. Will somebody please explain to me just why it is that when the HypoGrits go talking all tough, they’re saving the whole world but when a Tory talks tough, he’s just being a big, mean, nasty, intolerant, backward, anti-whatever knuckledragger?

What’s that, you say? I’m just being a stereotypical, paranoid, right-wing nut-job? Well then, just chew on these examples, why don’t you:

Schools
First off, there are the soothsayers of doom and gloom at TO’s school board who are howling the same old same old once again. “Schools and pools are closing, oh my! Send money before it’s too late!”

The TDSB had themselves a little chinwag earlier this week to stage their latest production of the long running hit, Chicken Little Knows Best, and declare in duly prophetic and ominous tones that 64 schools and 77 pools will need to be closed if the Grits don’t pony up a great, green glob of government goodies, and damn quick. Now, why does this sound so familiar? Waitaminit, I heard it last year; and the year before that, come to think of it. Hell, when the Tories were running the show, they turned this little begfest into something resembling an annual pilgrimage, complete with a Grim Reaper prancing about in front of one news conference and prophesying apocalyptic consequences if the moochers didn’t get everything they wanted.

When Chainsaw Mike and Evasive Ernie were running the show, it was headline news whenever these bozos pinched a loaf about funding. Remember that these are the same 77 pools the board threatened to can in ’99, 2000, ’01 and ’02 that we’re talking about here. Now that the Natural Governing Party is in charge, it barely rates ink. For a guy who wants to be known as the “Education Premier,” McSquinty sure is heading bassackwards on this one. Education Minister Sandra Pupatello was equally befuddling yesterday:

“I don’t know if it’s the same clip I’m seeing or if it’s just a re-run clip from last year,” she burbled to the press yesterday. “They are the largest landowner in the city of Toronto … they are sitting on a lot of very valuable property but they have declining enrolment, 10,000 fewer students, yet they have had an 11% increase in funding.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d think Sandy was channeling the ghost of Paul Christie. You remember him, right? The mean old board supervisor the Tories appointed who was demonized in the press for noticing the same things as Pupatello.

Elections
Second, we have Harper’s plan for fixed dates for federal elections. The TO Red Star crowd freaked out, with letters to the editor asking how ol’ Steve can have the gall to “arbitrarily change the parliamentary system into the American model in the blink of an eye?” Huuuhhh??? Harper suggests something and these bozos drop bricks in their BVDs but when McSquinty went ahead and did the same thing, nobody so much as broke wind over it.

For all that fuss, the fact remains that all fixed election dates do is to pull the “we can call an election whenever the polls are good for us” rug out from under the sitting government. This is not such a bad thing. And besides, whatever criticisms I may have about the Yanks, they are still a democracy. We’re talking fixed election dates here, folks, not fixed elections.

Courts
Then there’s Caledonia. Highway 6 is still blocked, there is no end in sight, and the province was called on the carpet yesterday to explain to superior Court Judge David Marshall just why the hell his court order to remove the protesters hasn’t been enforced. Now I wonder what would happen if Tories were to bang heads with a judge?

Ontario is supposed to be governed by the rule of law, but McSquinty and his gang have instead decided to deal with this by throwing a bunch of taxpayers’ cash (we don’t get to know just how much) to the town, local businesses and the developers of the disputed land. Nothing at all about dealing with the “occupiers” of the disputed land.

The fact is, if you allow lawlessness in one place, it just primes other malcontents to break the law somewhere else. Don’t believe me? Consider that natives have set up an information picket at the Brantford casino, saying they own that site. If this sounds familiar, it’s because that’s how the Caledonia clusterfiddle started out, and Tory critic Bob Runciman was looking for answers in the House yesterday:

“Can you advise us if you’re taking action to deal with the Brantford challenge, or are you once again going to sit on the sidelines until the situation deteriorates and becomes Caledonia Two?” Runciman demanded to acting premier Gerry Phillips.

Sorry, Bob, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one if I were you. The Grits are far more interested in politically correct optics than in law and order. After all, it’s not like anybody is trying to take over one of their homes.

Enough already! Knock it off and get the hell on with your life.

As usual, I’m sick and tired of hearing all the droning and bleating about the latest apoplexy-inducer, but this time all the moaning and groaning is coming from people that I usually agree with. It’s baffling, I know, but a great many of my fellow right wing nut jobs have their panties all in a bunch over something that I think adds up to no more that a fart in a windstorm.

For the record: Yes, I’m Catholic; yes, I’m serious about it; and no, I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about Dan Brown’s The daVinci Code. I haven’t read it and I have no plans to go and see it, mainly because I’m not one of those types that goes out of my way to get offended. Indignation is not a food group.

It’s a work of fiction using a slipshod misrepresentation of history in an effort to rehash a story that was old hat a thousand years ago. Gnosticism (which is what Brown’s work is derived from) has been around as long as humans have had religion. Gnostics’ only consistent trait is their ability to latch onto an existing system of beliefs and then smugly declare that they know something that the rest of us don’t and that knowing it makes them special and somehow smarter than the rest of us. This coming from an ideology that can’t even come up with its own ideas. Give me a break.

But, say many of my friends, what if it causes some Catholics to start to question their faith? Or other Christians, for that matter? What if it makes people believe that Christianity really is a scam? What if, what if, what if, ad nauseum. It’s almost enough to put me off my beer.

The answer is so simple that I can barely contain the urge to bat some folks over the head with it: Anybody that is going to lose their faith over a novel or a movie never had that much of it to begin with. Friends tell me about others that they know who say they are now questioning their beliefs over all this. So what? What’s the difference if we lose a few that were only nominally Christian to begin with? The answer is, nothing.

Christianity hasn’t lost any faithful over this, all that has changed is that a few of those who were faking it have now dropped the pretense and admitted what they really thought all along. Just because someone says that they’re something doesn’t make it so. Just look at Paul Martin or James Loney, both of whom claim to be “devout Catholics.”

Martin, while PM, supported same sex marriage, abortion and numerous other things that Catholic beliefs are dead set against. Loney (who, you may remember, was damn careful to shut up about his homosexuality while being held hostage by a bunch of Iraqi head-hackers) avoids prayer “like the plague,” thinks Mass is a waste of time, says “the thought of fasting nauseates me,” and that “my appetite for spiritual striving and self-discipline has diminished in corresponding measure,” as he becomes more comfortable with himself “just as I am.”

Are these guys even Catholic, let alone devout? The answer is no, plain and simple, no matter what they say to the contrary. Just saying that you’re Catholic isn’t good enough, no matter how much you might whine about it. You have to believe and you have to act on those beliefs. Catholics believe they must strive against the urge to sin; they believe in the right of the unborn to be born; they believe that the Mass is an act of communion with Christ; and they sure as hell don’t support any government monkeying about with a holy sacrament. These guys are no more Catholic than David Duke is a civil rights champion.

These two windbags, and other faux Catholics like them, are the only people that are going to be knocked loose by anything that Brown wrote. And, let’s face it folks, they were never in the fold to begin with. We have lost absolutely nothing. So, quit all the whining and bellyaching, get back to your lives and find something important to focus all that extra energy that you seem to have on. There are too many better things to do for us to be wasting any more time with this claptrap.

Cecilia Zhang’s killer has ‘fessed up in a Brampton court and will now be put away for second degree murder. Just how long that is, remains to be seen. But, believe it or not, it isn’t how long he’ll rot behind bars that has been on my mind lately; it’s Cecilia’s parents.

Yes, they finally have some answers, but I wonder, do they feel any better now than they did yesterday, before Min Chen admitted that he killed their little girl in a botched attempt to kidnap her for ransom? Or the day before that? Or any other day since that worthless piece of human filth murdered their only child for nothing other than his own greed?

There’s been a lot of talk about closure. I’m coming to loathe that word. It seems to get bandied about at the drop of a hat these days by all the usual feel-good suspects who think that we all need it and can’t get on with our lives unless we have it. Try this for size: it’s meaningless. Closure from having your only daughter savagely and irrevocably ripped from your lives and dumped in a ravine like someone’s garbage? There’s no such thing. People who have actually been through such things know that, people who haven’t, talk of closure.

It seems to me that when these nosey types say “you need closure,” what they really mean is “give me an excuse to stop thinking about this, it bothers me.” Cecilia’s parents will never see their daughter again, never see her grow up, never watch her fall in love, never see the joy she could have had through children of her own someday. All of that is gone now, thanks to a waste of skin named Chen. There is no “closure” from that. You don’t “move on” and you sure as hell don’t “get over it.” What does happen in time, if you’re lucky, is that you learn to live with it and someday, if you’re really lucky, the good feelings that you get from the memories of what time you had become stronger than the bad ones that you get from the empty days between that time and this. That, my friends, is all that anyone can really hope for.

(If anyone knows a link to the Cecilia Zhang Memorial Fund, please send it to admin@rightcrazy.com and I’ll post it here.)

This is rich, and I do mean absolutely rich. Check this out:Extraterrestrial kittyvore Dolt McSquinty jabs his crassly partisan proboscis into federal politics during the last election by coming out to endorse PMdaPM for… well, for PM. Our little Norman Bates lookalike pulls every snide trick short of the “I may eat kittens but Stephen Harper eats babies!” routine trying to make the wheels fall off the Tory campaign wagon. Not a whiff of Grit outrage anywhere.

Meanwhile, Grit Grand-Poobah-wannabe Gerard Kennedy pipes in that, unlike Harper “by and large Mr. McGuinty has remained above the fray.” Apparently he was too busy at the time to heave his skull out of his sphincter to notice what his boss was saying. Grits fail to notice the irony.

Jonny Cretin flings some thinly-veiled badmouth at Alberta and Albertans in the 2000 campaign, saying “I do like to do politics with people from the East,” and “Joe Clark and Stockwell Day are from Alberta, and they are a different type,” finishing off with “I’m joking. I’m serious.” The Shawinigan Strangler never withdrew the insult. Nary a peep from the Left.

Last year, the Martin Grits broadside McGuinty for having the gall to point out that Ontario sending $23 billion more to Ottawa every year than they get back isn’t exactly the fairest deal in the land. John McCallum (revenue minister at the time) called McGuinty’s beefs “dangerous for Canada.” No Grit outrage.

In the last election, PMdaPM fires one across McGuinty’s bow for breaking his promise to freeze taxes, because it’s making Ontarians PO’ed at the federal Grits. Grits are fine with this.

Grits demonize former premier “chainsaw” Mike Harris, not just when he was in office but right up into the last election, when he wasn’t even in politics anymore. Liberal TV ads weep and wail about how Harris wrecked Ontario and how Harper will do the same to the whole country, along with a hoary host of other attack ads. Only reaction from the Liberals is to try to backpedal when the infamous “soldiers in the streets” spot blows up in their faces like a landmine.

Got all that? Good. So what now? Here’s what now:

At a provincial Conservative fundraiser, Stephen Harper introduces Ontario Tory leader John “Guess-What-Party-I’m-With” Tory as “the next premier of Ontario” and all across the land, Liberals pinch a colossal loaf in their collective stanfields. You’d think that Steve had smacked Dalt’s wife or something.

Ontario Grit Anthony Rota bleats that “with his meddling in provincial politics, the prime minister has insulted the premier and shown contempt toward the people of Ontario who elected the premier to work on their behalf.”

“The fact of the matter is this prime minister has been ignoring the premier of the province of Ontario and has been shoving him aside,” barfed Pickering-Ajax MP Mark Holland.

I won’t even get into what’s been leaking out of Bob Rae’s piehole over this.

Harper, however, has managed to pretty much shrug off all this hoopla: “I do not think the House will be surprised to learn that John Tory is a very good friend of mine,” he told the Commons, “but it would be a surprise if the party opposite is saying it will not in fact campaign or work with its provincial cousins. That would be a surprise.” Well said.

My position is a little simpler, though. A little more earthy, my mother would say. It’s this: Guys, if you can’t take it, don’t dish it out; and until you can figure out if you can or can’t, kindly take your hypocritical little burblings, make like chickens, and shut the cluck up.