The Ho-hum Debate

Stephen Harper has suggested he would welcome a one-on-one debate with Michael Ignatieff, to which the Liberal leader has responded,"Bring it on," in both official languages.

A Vancouver Sun headline says such a "mano-a-mano battle" would be a "high stakes thriller." We presume the writer was employing heavy irony. A verbal clash between Messrs. Harper and Ignatieff would resemble the scene in the comic strip "Cul de Sac" when Petey and Andre try to decide who will kick the soccer ball.

The last one-on-one debate in a Canadian federal election campaign was between John Turner and Brian Mulroney, in which then Prime Minister Turner had the disadvantage of being a gentleman.  

The best exchange currently on television is the one between twin babies, available on Youtube, when you google either "Twin babies in conversation" or "Babbling babies." 

The 18-month-old debaters top any current speaker on the election circuit.

Hey hey, Elizabeth May!

Refusing Green Party leader Elizabeth May a seat at the table during the televised federal election debates has been explained by a spokesperson for the broadcast consortium (CBC, CTV, Radio Canada, Global and TVA) as "a programming decision." And it may have been that. All of us, in  or out of the industry, have been forced to endure bad programming decisions.

If the broadcast consortium wanted interesting programming, they would include Ms. May, who gave the 2008 debates their few bright moments. But a better idea, according to the Pointless Digressions broadcast consortium, would be to run the debates in the form of a tennis tournament. Each leader would be seeded, and there would be a series of matches, the loser in each case being eliminated, leading to the final confrontation. 

Who would win? No one can say, but our money--such as it is--is on Elizabeth May, the Serena Williams of Canadian politics.

Political Notes from Day #3

"It's only the third day of the election campaign," lamented CBC Radio's Katie Malloch,"and already I'm sick of it."

Jack Layton was in Regina, barren turf for the NDP, which has not elected a candidate in Saskatchewan for the past ten years. There have been several hundred write-in votes for the Tommy Douglas statue in Weyburn, and twenty-four votes for Kiefer Sutherland.

Michael Ignatieff was in Missisauga, buying bagels; Gilles Duceppe was in Montreal getting off more bilingual one-liners; and Elizabeth May was sticking close to the Vancouver Island riding in which she hopes to unseat Gary Lunn by convincing voters that it is, really, easy to be Green.

Stephen Harper's handlers had arranged a photo-op in Saanich involving a number of small children and their parents, or possibly an entire cast from Victoria's Belfry Theatre, in which the Prime Minister promised tantalizing tax breaks if people will only keep him in power for another five years. 

Reflecting on the Libyan situation, Mr. Harper said, "Obviously I don't agree with the Colonel's nastiness, but hey, I don't think forty-two years is too long to rule a country, provided you have the right man." 

One of the children dropped his Prune Smoothie.  

Don't be snookered

A newspaper headline this week suggested that Canada's Opposition parties might have been "snookered" into pressing for an election.  We knew what this meant, but were curious about the etymology of "snooker" in meaning "to bamboozle, to dupe, to hornswoggle." 

The game of snooker was invented in 1889 by British officers in India as a variation on billiards. In this game, to snooker an opponent means to leave the cue ball in a  position where it is difficult to play (in Canada, this is called "hooking"). 

The use of "snooker" to mean--bluntly--"to cheat" began in the early 1900s. No one is quite sure why.

The question now is: did "Calgary Fats" Harper leave "Fast Mikey" Ignatieff behind the eight ball? Or have we all been snookered?

OSS Party Time

A new biography of William "Wild Bill" Donovan, World War Two creator of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the forerunner of the CIA, names a number of celebrities from other fields who were part of the cloak and dagger crew. 

Among those recruited by Donovan were historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., music critic Edwin Downes, major league baseball star Moe Berg, Julia ("bon appetit!") Child, and independent business entrepreneur Lucky Luciano. 

It is tempting to imagine a dinner gathering of these five:  Schlesinger would be scribbling notes; Downes, speaking in his mellow "Metropolitan Opera Quiz" baritone, would be challenging the others to identify obscure arias; Berg would be trying to organize a game; Child would, of course, be serving dinner; and Luciano might be heard saying, "Julia, I could kill for more of that tiramisu."   

Who's to trust?

A recent Ipsos Reid survey asked a representative number of Canadians which political party they would trust to bring in "honest, open and trustworthy government."  This is, perhaps, a naive question, knowing what one always has known about governments, but there it was.

In the end, the Conservative party was chosen as most honest, open and trustworthy by twenty-eight percent of those polled, or the number who have not been following the news. The NDP came in at twenty-two percent, followed well back by the Liberals at fifteen percent--odd, as it is hard to imagine a visage more honest, open and guileless than Mr. Ignatieff's.

The largest percentage--twenty-nine--was made up of persons who had no faith in any of the leading parties to deliver honest, open, et cetera.

So what does this tell us, fellow voters?  It tells us that the political party most trusted by Canadians is not trusted by seventy-two percent of us. It tells us that the largest number of Canadians trust none of the major political parties.

What is the answer?

Suggestion: There are bargain rates this month for flights to Brazil.

Mulroney: The Opera?

News that there is to be a production of "Mulroney: The Opera" has created a buzz throughout the country, and nowhere more so than on Parliament Hill. 

"If there's 'Mulroney: The Opera', why not 'Harper: The Ballet'?" demanded John Baird. Liberals, meanwhile, are calling for "Mackenzie King: The Seance."

The leading role of Big Bri in "Mulroney: The Opera" is to be played by Rick Miller, who says, "This is a role I can really get my teeth into. And my chin."

Pointless Digressions is now attracting backers for a musical revue spotlighting all the Prime Ministers of Canada--all of them, from Sir John A. to Kim Campbell, played by Jim Carrey.

Some Days It's Easy Being Green

This is St. Patrick's Day, a festival rich in customs and traditions. A colleague of ours once dyed his beard green for St. Patrick's Day, and this was before he started drinking.

We do not recommend you follow his example.  Instead, here are five appropriate ways to observe St. Patrick's Day:

1. Boil up a pot of corned beef and cabbage. An Irish friend once lamented "It's hard to base a grand cuisine on the potato," but Maggie and Jiggs would disagree.

2. Read a chapter of "Finnegan's Wake" to a group of friends, preferably in a Barry Fitzgerald accent.

3. Step out on your balcony and thrill the neighbors with a chorus of "Phil the Fluter's Ball" or "Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder?"

4. Write a fan letter to Sinead O'Connor.

5. Rent a DVD of "The Quiet Man" and settle in with a bottle of Old Bushmills Black Label.

Toddler Tags Teams

We have been alerted to an item on the Internet headed "21-month-old baby knows NHL teams." If you google even "Baby Knows NHL" you will find the video, in which the tiny toddler is shown cards bearing the logos of NHL teams, and he identifies them all, adding a few editorial comments. Vancouver fans may not be pleased to hear him say "Canucks--yuck." But then, he does live in Calgary.

We suggested to an older cousin that the infant hockey buff might grow up to be the next Don Cherry. The cousin reacted violently to this, but hey, we didn't say Gary Bettman. 

Meanwhile, watch for the next video, in which the baby broadcaster may be wearing a high-collared shirt and a jacket fashioned from checkered upholstery material. 

Swearing In, Swearing At

"Gord? It's one o'clock. Aren't you going to watch the swearing in?"

"Naw. Who cares? See one swearing in, you've seen 'em all. Gonna call my buddy Kev, see if he wants to go bowling. Hi, is Kevin there? He's where? Oh. I see. Okay, g'bye.

"Not there. I'll try good old George. Maybe we could go see 'Rango.' Hello, could I speak to George, please? Oh, him too, huh. Well, goodbye.

"Well, there's still Mike. We could go shoot some hoops. Hi, is Mike--oh. All right. Tell him I called. No, don't tell him I called, darn it.

"I'll call Colin.  Colin, you're there! Great! What, you've got a new meaning for HST? It's what? 'How Soon Toast.' Hilarious, Col. So long."

"Gord, it's starting. Come see what she's wearing."

"Wait a second, that gives me an idea. Hello, CKNW? Let me speak to the program director. Hello, Tom? Listen, I understand there's an opening for an open line host. An audition? Well, if you think that's really necessary. Tomorrow? Three-thirty. Right after..right after Carole?"

"I told him, Big Julie, don't go!"

The Ides of March are upon us; therefore, it is time to go to your neighborhood DVD store and rent the 1953 film of "Julius Caesar," in which Louis Calhern plays the Emperor who should have stayed home that day, John Gielgud has the right lean and hungry look as Cassius, James Mason is the unfortunate Brutus, and Marlon Brando delivers another startlingly brilliant and unpredictable performance as Antony. 

The film was directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, who was pleased to share the screenwriting credits with the original author.  Mankiewicz had a long and generally successful Hollywood career, in which he was director or screenwriter, and often both, on a number of memorable films.  

His great success was "All About Eve."  The day he got caught by the Ides of March came in 1963, when he made "Cleopatra."  The Burton-Taylor epic was long remembered as an epic flop. The tab came to $60 million.  But now, $60 million is a trifle; many Cineplex popcorn bars make more on a weekend.

Stoogerama

A report that the long awaited biopic of The Three Stooges is about to be filmed with Charlie Sheen, Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise has been denied. A studio news release declares live performers "passe," and is now planning an electronic production of the film.

In the new version, Larry, Curly and Moe will be played by Watson, the IBM "Jeopardy!" champion; Blue, the computer that beat Gary Kasparov at chess; and Hal 2000, the paranoid computer from "2001: A Space Odyssey."

"These are all seasoned, mature performers," according to a studio spokesperson, "and we expect no personal problems to interrupt production." 

We shall see.  Hal 2000 has scheduled his own news conference for later today.

Slot Machinations

A spokesperson for the various groups intent on building a gambling casino in downtown Vancouver slightly larger than one of the Gulf Islands said today, "We challenge the assertion of medical authorities that a massive expansion of gambling venues (or, as we prefer to call them, places of wholesome family entertainment) would lead to an increase in what they term 'problem gamblers.'

"Some, it saddens me to say, see us and our friends in government as heartless vultures, interested only in profit and gain. Nothing could be further from the truth. To present a true picture of what the new casino could mean to the community, I have the great pleasure of introducing our Las Vegas consultant, Mr. 'Fredo Corleone."   

"Hey, thank ya, paisano. Let's talk foist about family entertainment. We're gonna have all our dealers wear Mickey Mouse ears. Howzat for fun? And our lovely pole dancers will perform to songs by Raffi. What could be sweeter?

"Finally, I dunno where these people get off talking about problem gamblers. What, I ask you, is a problem gambler? I'll tell you what a problem gambler is: it's a gambler who wins big. That is a serious problem.

"But we have a solution: when some fortunate stiff wins big, we have Vinnie and Guido escort him to his automobile. Many of these problem gamblers never return.

"So there you have it, Las Vancouver. Take it from 'Fredo--No worries. No problems."

Ash Wednesday

And so we have arrived at Ash Wednesday, one of the most solemn days on the Christian calendar; the weather is appropriately overcast and bleak.

The name, as probably everyone knows, comes from the ancient custom of imprinting the sign of the cross on penitents' foreheads, using ashes made from the burning of the previous year's Palm Sunday palms. The ritual is thought to have been instituted by Gregory the Great, Pope 590-604.

The best-known ode for this day is T.S. Eliot's "Ash Wednesday", but more familiar is the phrase "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," from the English burial service. 

Then there is the old jazzman's riff:  "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust/If the liquor don't get you, the women must."

And now, off to church.  I will don my Armani sackcloth.

Shrive, then jive

This is Shrove Tuesday, the final day of Shrovetide, described in Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase & Fable as "the three days before the opening of Lent, when people went to confession and afterwards indulged in all sorts of sports and merry-making." At one time it was the great Derby Day of cockfighting in England. Keep an eye on your roosters.

Whence cometh the word "shrove"? Glad you asked. It is derived from "shrive," meaning to confess one's sins and be free of guilt.

So shrive, then jive.  And enjoy your pancakes. Particularly nice with orange and Grand Marnier butter.

Tyrants Haven

Attention, all soon-to-be deposed dictators and tyrannical rulers:

Are you seeking a tranquil spot where you can enjoy your ill-gotten billions in peace?  Look no further!  Tyrants Haven was designed for you!

Tyrants Haven is a gulf island entirely off the radar screen.  No angry mobs to pester you here, as the island is entirely surrounded by ferocious sharks, its shoreline fenced with high-voltage barbed wire, and its perimeter guarded by rabid dogs.

Choose from several architect designs, including the Pinochet Palace, the Idi Amin Villa and the Papa Doc Chateau.  Each comes with spa, indoor pool. widescreen television so you can watch what you have escaped, and a deluxe, state of the art interrogation chamber.

Don't delay!  Don't spend another hour dodging the anger of your hallucinogen-crazed subjects! Cash in your numbered accounts and call now for our trained team of escape specialists.  Call 1-800 Getmeoutahere. Operators are standing by.  

Triage at Tim's

Vancouver residents were surprised to learn that some patients arriving at the emergency ward of New Westminster's Royal Columbian Hospital Monday night were treated in the hospital's Tim Horton's coffee bar. Our roving reporter, Vince Decoupage, has talked to some of the people who were there, and this is what they had to say:

Al Flannery, long distance trucker: "Real good, I thought. Just went into Tim's to get a double espresso, and ended up with a free rhinoplasty."

Adelaide McCloskey, retired English teacher: "They were ever so nice. I thought i was having an attack, but this wonderful man in white gave me some medication, and I felt instantly cured. I asked him the name of this miracle medicine, and he told me it was a mocha latte. I know he was some kind of specialist, because on his outfit he had a tag reading 'Barista'."  

Dr. Henry Wotherspoon, surgeon: "Fellow said he could die for a macchiato. Thought he said a machete. I was all set to amputate. Damned noisy cappuccino machine confused me." 

Vince Decoupage: "That wraps up our report, Pointless fans, except to say that this signals a giant leap forward in medical practice, as patients everywhere are now clamoring for coffee shop care. Thanks for tuning in, and I'll have an Americano."