My niece-in-law arrived at our house just hours after serving as a delegate to the Liberal Party policy convention and we greeted her with the relief normally accorded to survivors of a combat tour in Afghanistan, an Italian cruise ship vacation or the line-up stampede for a new Apple product.
“You poor Dear. Did they force you to accept a contract kickback or, even worse, make one? Did they charge you $125,000 for photocopies?! Was there pressure to sign business deals on napkins? Did you suffer the embarrassment of running out of taxpayer-funded monogrammed golf balls? Did Sheila Copps corner you with her promise, again, to abolish the GST? Did Iggy enlist you to join the U.S. Marines to invade Iraq?”
Well, it turned out that we worried for nothing.
Our extreeeeemely distant relative “Pat” (we’re calling her that to protect her against possible retribution from roving gangs of Socialist Youth in the un-named Maritime province’s Workers Paradise where she lives in fear), was actually quite upbeat about her party’s three-day wake.
After launching into an hour of inane rants trashing my buddy and neighbour Stevie (“Rock God”) Harper, she actually made a few good points about the impact of her fringe party’s policies-in-waiting (they still have to be approved by the three corporate giants and one union who get the final say with their combined contributions of $113.25.)
Right off the bat, I am in favour of the legalization of marijuana. Don’t use it myself (I experimented in the 60s, but never exhaled), and can see how it would reduce the bitterness of partisan debate in the House of Commons as recorded by the official Hansard.
THE HONOURABLE MEMBER FOR GROW-OP GREY PONYTAIL: “Mister Speaker! During a little puff break outside the Parliament Buildings, the MPs of the Liberal Party of … whatever … voted to table today a private Member’s bill to legalize the use of margarine and home-grown production for personal … on, I’m sorry, Mr. Speaker, the giggling Honourable colleague eating brownies to my right corrects me on a teensy-weensy misspeak because we really support the legalization of Mary Magdalene … no, that’s not right …. boy, it’s hard to read notes when contemplating the infinite patterns of the lines on your hand … okay, I got it! Mr. Speaker, we want to legalize marijuana because we can’t afford booze at Liberal conventions. Can we be fine on that? Peace, man.”
THE HONOURABLE THE ATTORNEY GENERAL: “No.”
THE HONOURABLE MEMBER FOR GROW-OP GREY PONYTAIL: “Heyyyy, that’s cool, guy. We’ll just flow with that. Sorry to bother everybody. Does anyone have spare munchies?”
“Pat” also scored some points about the revival of the old Liberal policy that its adherents should never be out of pocket for anything if there’s a taxpayer’s wallet close to hand, even after the loss of so much kickback cash following Gomery’s overblown misunderstanding that saw lots of familiar faces forced to miss the convention because they’re in the witness protection program.
That includes the new method of selecting their next leader, just in case there might be a contest should Interim Boss-for-life Bob Rae get run over by a truck driven by one of the 269,000 people who went bankrupt when he was premier of the People’s Soviet Republic of Ontariostan. .
Hey, anyone can play—even if, like the Liberal Party, they’re broke. Or, like me, cheap.
You don’t have to pay fees for a party membership card you keep hidden out of shame and embarrassment, but can do all kinds of neat stuff—including vote for the new leader—as long as you sign a solemn declaration on your honour that you share some “Liberal values.” I intend to summon up a smidgen of my honour to sign because I share lots of these values—I’ll accept kickbacks all day long and I believe in abortion (taxpayer-funded, mandatory, widespread and retroactive).
As soon as “Pat” was off to catch her flight of fancy home, my shoe-phone rang.
“If anyone is listening in, this could be any prime minister of any boring snowbound northern democracy,” said a familiar voice. “Gord, do you have everything geared up to go to NeoCon Level 7?”
Got it, Stevie. We have our 50,000 volunteers already turning in their Conservative Party cards and signing up for free to choose the next Liberal leader. How are you making out at your end with the candidate?
“Well, he wants a Senate seat after the election, but that’s no big deal.”
Hey, I like the sound of it—Senator Michael Ignatieff.
“Small price to pay,” chuckled the voice that could be of any prime minister of a boring snowbound northern democracy, “considering the millions we’ll save not having to make new attack ads.”