The ungodly fog is in it's sixth day, and it's starting to drive me just a little bit bonkers. Children are disappearing in the mouths of dogs, I can hear the screams of the damned just over the horizon. I keep waiting for a ship to appear on dry land with a cursed crew beckoning me on board.
Sitting at the windows of the bunker, cigarettes on fire, I keep looking to the distance for some hope, but there is none. The forecast calls for rain later in the day, perhaps that will be the break that is needed.
The weekend promises to be a bad one, a grand excuse for drinkers and testosterone freaks from around the country to converge at one location to participate in some grand homoerotic bonding ritual that involves, too much alcohol, bodily injury, random yelling, misogynist and racist comments. Scanning the papers yesterday, a celebrity guest invited will be something called the booze Brothers, a tribute to a fake musical act, in which one of the members dies of a drug overdose.
The weekend will end with another display of testosterone, this time in Ottawa, where Stephen Harper has promised to bring down the government. I've noticed something about Harper. He does better in the polls when noone sees him. Once out on the hustings the man's astonishing lack of charisma becomes apparent. Combine that with hateful ideas, and he appeals neither to those looking to the superficial, or to those with an intellectual depth beyond that of the kiddie pool.
Harper's an intelligent man, but with a complete absence of any charisma. He may have been effective as a strategist, or perhaps writing manifestos. As a leader, he's out of his league. Setting up this Yuletide election he's wasting the political capitol that will come from Gomery II in February. By the time the second Gomery report comes out, Martin will have won two elections since the initial revelations, he will have no choice but to quit as leader.
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