Don’t Bug Us. It’s Super Bowl Sunday.

February 7, 2010

No real posting today as we are already deep into the Super Bowl pre-game festivities. I believe Acaphlegmic may have spiked his homemade nacho cheese concoction with something unsavory that he purchased from a chemistry colleague at the unlicensed place of higher education at which he teaches. The mind wanders. Focus is hard to maintain. How long have we been at this? It seems like hours. Maybe days.

In the endless haze I seem to remember something about Etobicoke councilor Rob Ford mulling over a run for mayor. A nebulous poll placing him 3rd among possible contenders. Can’t be. Rob Ford for mayor? Hee, hee, hee. That’s too.. too.. ridiculous to even contemplate. Hee, hee. Maybe Rocco Rossi’s people put him up to it in order to make their candidate seem less crazy? Hee, hee, hee. Ha, ha, ha.

Ooops. I think I may have peed a little nacho cheese. What’s in that stuff?

Prediction: once more the Super Bowl will not be as exciting as the Grey Cup game and it’ll be 33-21, Colts over the Saints 31-17, Saints over the Colts. Pardon the typo.

And Rob Ford for mayor. Hee, hee, hee. Hee, hee.

freakily submitted by Cityslikr


Military On Ice

January 31, 2010

So there I was, minding my own business, having popped in from the cold to play some pool (badly), down some drinks (goodly), clog the arteries with some deep fried goodness (high blood pressuredly). I was quietly rocking out to an anti-John Hughes 80s soundtrack punctuated by the occasional Beatles song which may be the perfect way to listen to The Beatles. One song at a time surrounded by a bunch of music that you actually enjoy. Deep in the background on a massive TV the CBC’s Hockey Day in Canada droned on, mutedly.

Then it happened. Pre-Leafs-Canucks game, our waiter turns up the volume on the television. On it, military personnel start appearing and a Hummer pulls up outside an arena in Stratford, Ontario (host to this year’s HDC). Out steps Ron McLean, a garishly dressed Don Cherry (natch) and a similarly attired kid (ghastly). They make their way into the rink and onto the red carpet where they blather on about the Canadianess of the game of hockey, Our Game®©™. Our servicemen (and women) fill up the cutaway shots.

Jump to the ACC in Toronto where the awesome display of martialistic jingoism continues. Members of the army, navy, air force (we have an air force, don’t we?) fill the screen. Some guy who looks like Tom Cochrane in fatigues but isn’t sings some lame Canada is Hockey, Hockey is Canada, And We Love Our Fightin’ Force Who Is Keeping Us Strong And Free song. By which time, I am completely flummoxed. Who handed over pageantry planning to the dunderheaded Don Cherry?!  (Tip of the hat goes to Christine B. for that notion.)

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. Spectacularly. Down from the rafters, a figure in full battle regalia awkwardly rappels toward centre ice. Safely landing, it is revealed to be former Leaf great, 85 year-old Johnny Bower. YEAAAAAHHHHHH! YEAAAAHHHHHH FUCKING YEAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! Johnny Bower in army gear! YEAAAAHHHHHH!!! Wearing a fucking helmet! YEAAAHHHHHHH!!!! What’s next? The dug up remains of Tim Horton and Conn Smythe shot out of a canon? YEAAAHHHHH!!!!!

What the fuck happened to us? When did we officially become American? Isn’t hockey smash your face, beat your chest macho enough without introducing a dick swinging, I love a man in uniform element to it?

A few years back, I was wandering around Melbourne, Australia, taking in the sights. Now, Australia’s a county that shares much in common with Canada although, unfortunately, not the climate. But on the flipside, we don’t have snakes here that can kill you if you even so much as look into their dark, soulless eyes. Both countries were “founded” by European stock who barbarously de-populated their respective lands of its aboriginal inhabitants. We came of age on the international scene by offering our young men up as fodder in the completely senseless slaughter of World War I. Something in which we take a huge amount of historical pride.

In Melbourne, that pride is on display in the form of numerous cenotaphs and statues throughout the city. It struck me when I was there, how quiet Canadians were in terms of trumpeting our military past. Sure, we’ve got our Vimy monument and tomb of the unknown soldier but we always seemed humble in our acknowledgement.

That seems to have all changed now. Fight fear. Fight chaos. Fight distress. Fight. Fight! FIGHT! FIGHT!! FIGHT!!! YEAAAHHHHHHH!!!! Jack Bauer?! Fuck that. We got Johnny Bower! In fatigues! Dangling from a rope, high above centre ice!

And spare me, the whole support our troops trope. If that’s all you got, then you’ve ceded rational discourse to the lame ass, simple-minded sloganeering of George W. Bush, Don Cherry and Rick Hillier. War should only be used as a last, desperate measure and not wielded as some cheap, easy to score PR stunt. I watch hockey to watch the Leafs lose not to bear witness to our fidelity to the fighting men and women in uniform. That’s what the History Channel’s for.

testily submitted by Cityslikr


A Second Thought

January 5, 2010

I’m surprised to be writing this soon into the fray (and my apologies to those still reading yesterday’s post. I told my esteemed colleague as we set out on this venture that writing for the web had to be more concise than the full blown, Strongbow fueled bar rants that an unwilling audience normally had inflicted upon them. And how we first crossed paths if the truth be known. Early days yet, friends. Early days).

But I do want to clear something up. As an ultimately tepid supporter of Mr. Tory for Mayor in `03, I do think he still brings a workable capability to the office regardless of how dismal his track record may have been in the provincial political arena. I say “may have been” because it’s an assessment based solely on information gleaned from yesterday’s post. Frankly, I pay zero attention to provincial politics aside from how it impacts my life here in the city (which it does with annoying and usually inept frequency). Outside of, perhaps, those in QC, AB and NFLD who identify heavily with their… ah, how to say this without stepping on any toes… provincialism, politics at the provincial level serves no purpose whatsoever other than adding duplication and red tape to our lives. The quicker we do away with this level of government and divvy up its power, responsibility and monies, the better off all our lives will be.

Forgive my digression. Provincial politics tends to bring the Cityslkr out in me.

Back to John Tory for Mayor. I do believe that the glowing bright redness of his Toriness, if you will and hopefully without eliciting an image of a baboon in heat, is such that it will dampen the ideological battles we’ve seen hold city council hostage throughout the past decade or so. It’s hard to see anyone on the right aside from Paleolithic Etobicoke councilman Rob Ford who would be unable to saddle up with Tory. And, despite the constant screeching from media outlets like the Toronto Sun, there isn’t a progressive member of the present council leaning so far left that they couldn’t work with a Mayor Tory. A happy, functioning, Kumbaya-singing council is one that tends not to get in the way and allows the experts to run the city properly.

John Tory as the new Art Eggleton. How bad could that be?

soberly submitted by Urban Sophisticat