Friday, December 30, 2005

Twelve Fearless New Year’s Predictions for the City of Edmonton

Bringing you as many predictions as there are months in the year! The Ministry of Misinformation isn’t Scrooging you for 2006. The gift of cynicism is the gift that goes on taking.

1. Edmonton will make some bold steps forwards in urban sprawl, particularly in the south west. The nouveau riche, fancying themselves as aristocrats, will demand 3000 square feet homes to accommodate a family of four or even three. These ostentatious mini-mansions will lack regular mail delivery, nor will they be proximal to the transit system. They will, however, have wonderful views of empty fields of dirt that have been denuded of trees.

2. City council will keep up its relentless search for a municipal identity. Slogans will be bandied about; maybe a new festival will be established. Does anyone know the slogan for Paris, London or Tokyo? That these cities’ slogans (if they even exist) are not widely known is a fact that will elude our clever councilors who believe that a rose by any other name will smell sweeter.

3. There will be much hand-wringing about violent crime. A rash of stabbings and senseless killings by teenagers will further convince Edmontonians that the city is going to hell in a hand basket. Visitors from such countries as Columbia or Brazil will be marvel at how scared we all are of each other. They will wonder why, given our crime rate is approximately 99.9 per cent lower than in their homelands, hardly anyone is brave enough to actually take a walk on our tranquil streets.

4. The news media will laud the “spirit” of Edmontonians in the face of a shared “crisis.” For example, in the event of another flood, breathless reporters will coo over the fortitude of homeowners who resolutely and defiantly mop the water up in their own basements!

5. It will become very cold for about a week and people will grumble incessantly. “Cold enough for ya” will be repeated so often that you will want to dropkick the next person you hear say it. City council might be so generous as to open up an LRT station so that rather than dying, homeless people will have the privilege of sleeping on a hard floor in temperatures of roughly one degree above zero.

6. Sophisticated Albertans from Edmonton and the surrounding countryside will make their enchanting presence known on Whyte Avenue. They will drink until they can barely stand and then urinate on the historic buildings of Old Strathcona. Some will be courageous enough to beat up bums; some will pick fights with each other; some will stay the night in Emergency at the University Hospital. City council will debate whether there should be fewer drinking establishments on Whyte Avenue, and then resolve to debate the issue further.

7. City council will pat itself on the back for opening a new LRT station, the first in over a decade. Few people will think to ask why Calgary is approximately 10,389 per cent further ahead in developing rapid transit than Edmonton is.

8. Mayor Mandel will continue championing the arts. Mediocre talents will be lauded to ridiculous heights in the name of celebrating culture. Bad poems will continue to appear in buses and trains. Visitors will wonder why a city of half a million seeks to compete with cities such as Montreal and Toronto and doesn’t focus its efforts instead on avoiding such catastrophes as South Edmonton Common, which is a bigger affront to culture than anything.

9. The summer won’t be as warm or as long as anyone had hoped.

10. Many local newspaper columnists will continue to avoid writing about issues and will instead write about a) their boyfriends/girlfriends/wives/husbands/kids b) their pet peeves c) the cool people that they know or have met d) bothersome things about living in a suburban mini-mansion, such as lawnmowers that don’t work e) various opinions that they hold that, while not backed up by much fact, are backed up by a whole lot of vehement conviction.

11. There will be at least one picture of a cuddly pet in both the Edmonton Journal or the Edmonton Sun. This picture will make you feel soft and warm inside. You might even put it up in your cubicle.

12. A sports victory – no matter how small – will reassure all Edmontonians that in spite of everything, this city truly is the City of Champions!

Monday, December 19, 2005

Media Maverick ruthlessly hunts down entertainment stories, kills them, and drags them to your door

In keeping with the synergetic times we live in, the Ministry of Misinformation has conducted a hostile takeover of the rival Internet Empire, Media Maverick, and now brings you cutting analysis of what’s hot and mildly tepid in the world of entertainment.

Oprah Salutes Shallow Bitches
Oprah is unveiling her “Shallow Bitch of the Year” Award. This award will honour the woman who has made the most significant contribution in 2005 to mindless consumption, needless sentimentality and Kleenex usage. Celine Dion is a front-runner for this award. Celine Dion has had a baby and if you don’t know that you are a heartless bastard. Celine Dion has collaborated with Anne Geddes on a series of photographs depicting her in various states of undress with her baby. Geddes has entitled this collection, “Miracle,” because Dion was impregnated by God Himself. The fact that procreation has been going on for several million years among the human species alone is something Geddes is unaware of. In her view, sperm + ovum = zygote is a miracle. It’s even more miraculous that babies are still born in the affluent west, even with the intervention of modern medical practices!

Shouting is the New Talking
The new trend in communication is VOICING OPINIONS AS IF THEY ARE FACT AND SHOUTING THEM INTO A MICROPHONE SO THAT YOU DEAFEN PEOPLE. Try this at home. Your child doesn’t believe that potato chips are in fact a healthier food choice than apples. What you do is gain 50 pounds, dress in a suit, get hired by a news show, and start shouting at your child over the TV.

“NOW ANOTHER THING THAT REALLY TICKS ME OFF! DOCTORS – WHO INCIDENTALLY SUCK AT THE TEAT OF YOUR TAX DOLLARS – THINK APPLES ARE HEALTHIER THAN POTATO CHIPS. LITTLE BILLY, IF YOU’RE LISTENING AT HOME, JOIN ME IN A CONDESCENDING LAUGH AT THESE SO-CALLED ‘EXPERTS’! HUH! IF GOD MEANT US TO EAT APPLES, DON’T YOU THINK HE WOULD HAVE PUT THEM IN A 100-GRAM BAG THAT IS AVAILABLE 24-7 FROM YOUR LOCAL 7-11? AND DON’T YOU THINK HE, IN ALL OF HIS INFINITE WISDOM, WOULD HAVE MADE APPLES SALTY AND CRISPY AND YUMMY IF HE WANTED US TO EAT THEM? STOP EATING APPLES, BILLY! COMMON SENSE TELLS YOU THEY’RE THE DEVIL’S FOOD.”

George Clooney can do whatever the hell he wants
Don’t try this at home! George Clooney ate lard and drank beer for a month straight, gained 30 pounds, refrained from shaving and became a sweaty, fat slob. But ladies love him. Try emulating his act and you’ll be sleeping on the couch.

That’s it for this week! Next time we promise to be even more shallow.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Election Choice is Clear: Talking Animals vs Jackbooted Thugs

Prime Minister Paul Martin wanted to make it absolutely clear to Canadians today that they face a clear choice on January 23rd. They can vote for the Liberals and enter a kingdom reminiscent of the magical world of Narnia (after the fall of the White Witch) wherein beavers will serve them delicious, hot buttered toast and they will ride on the backs of lions… or they can vote for the Conservatives and usher in a grim era of oppression, misery, public floggings and jackbooted thugs stomping on children’s faces for pleasure.

“Fundamentally, Canadians know that Canada without Liberals is like a public hospital suddenly becoming a private torture chamber where they will force you to pay to have rats eat your spleen,” said Martin. “It’s unfathomable that any true Canadian would even think for a second of voting for Mr. Harper, or as I like to call him, Mr. Hitler!”

The PM’s wan smile drew a weak response from the assembled journalists, even those who have already been promised jobs by the Liberal government. But the PM struggled on regardless.

“Real Canadians know in their hearts that Mr. Harper is fundamentally opposed to human life as we know it. For example, he likes guns. Guns kills people. Basically he’s saying that he enjoys killing people. Let me be quite frank, in this regard Mr. Harper is not unlike a member of the Gestapo who would be unable to function without the stench of rotting corpses coursing through his nostrils.”

One plucky journalist who evidently has no aspiration of working as a Liberal communications staffer asked whether Martin’s proposal to ban handguns is another absurd boondoggle in the making, similar to the gun registry.

Martin raised an eyebrow.

“The gun registry is not a boondoggle. It’s a boon. But not a doggle. Let me make it quite clear, in the magical kingdom we are creating the day after January 23rd, people will not need guns. Have you ever seen a unicorn with a gun? And why would anyone feel any hostility to anyone else when all reasons for conflict have been eliminated by a LIBERAL MAJORITY GOVERNMENT? This needs to be seriously considered. Repeat those three words. LIBERAL MAJORITY GOVERNMENT. Say it again. LIBERAL MAJORITY GOVERNMENT. Isn’t this a calming, refreshing thought? Who on earth would want to kill anyone in such a paradisiacal scenario?”

Friday, December 09, 2005

“My job is to fuck up. Your job is to love me unconditionally” – Klein

In an incoherent and boozy interview with the Ministry of Misinformation, Premier Klein has denied that his political act is reminiscent of a pissed-to-the-gills bum who is stumbling and bumbling in a back alley after dark. This follows yet another policy U-turn from his government wherein on Wednesday it was perfectly acceptable to permit smoking in the legislature even though it is banned everywhere else in Edmonton but by Thursday the idea seemed stupid because, as noted by Lyle Oberg, “I heard it from a friend who said… ‘You guys are a bunch of hypocrites’” [Edmonton Sun, today]

“It’s important to float hypocritical policies in the court of public opinion,” said Oberg to the Ministry of Misinformation. “Likewise with bullshit policies, greedy policies, as well as policies designed to destroy the environment. Those that the public don’t notice get the go-ahead.”

“Thassright,” Klein agreed, smoking in his office – in fact, smoking up a small storm if truth be known – given that this will no longer be allowed as of January 1, 2006.

Klein then turned his attention to the issue of his resumption of drinking alcohol.

“I see no problem here. Lookit. Am I the premier or am I the premier? Or has someone else become the premier without me realizing it? Ha! As if! No one else could possibly manage Alberta’s billions of dollars in resource revenue and still be incapable of sticking to a budget! That’s why I’m special. And lookit… Yes, I did verbally abuse some homeless people in a shelter several years ago, and throw cash in their faces and tell them to get a job, even though many of them already had a job, but afterwards, you know, I made a tearful apology in front of the media and I admitted I had a problem, and I promised to reform myself, and so everything is A-OK. In fact, my popularity even soared. So what’s the problem? So yeah, I still like to drink. You know what? I’m the premier, and people expect me to drink and get belligerent. People don’t want me to behave like an angel! They expect me to behave like their boozed-addled, smoke-sucking, slots-playing Uncle Herman. What’s more, people like it when I give interviews to the Edmonton Journal and admit nonchalantly that I drank so much at a function this October that I gave myself a hangover. Severely normal Albertans see no problem with that. It’s only leftist Trotskyists who see any whiff of hypocrisy in my behavior. And you know what I say to those people? Fuck you all!

“Lookit. I’m King Ralph. I told you all in 2001 and I’ll tell you again. I’m King Ralph. Did you hear me properly? Thassright! I’m King Ralph. So if I appear to act as if I am above the law, Good Christ, that’s because I am above the law. Where do you think you are? Canada? This is ALBERTA. The peasants know their place here. Do you even understand Albertanese? No? You talk some fancy dialect called English that they talk down east. Thass treasonous. You know what? I don’t like your face. I should have you arrested. You fucker! Blah blah blah with your questions. I’m King Ralph, bitch!”

THONK.

The premier’s head hit the desk at this point because he had passed out, and the short interview was concluded.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Jack Layton likes trees, but dislikes tree spiders

In the first of the Ministry of Misinformation’s profiles of the four federal party leaders, we’re getting to know Jack Layton. This fresh-faced man was born, smiling at the world, in 1950 in Hudson, Quebec. Life for the Layton family was utterly changed.

“The first words out of his mouth were, ‘Universal and equal access to breast milk,’” recalls a proud Mrs. Layton. “Access to breast milk should depend on your appetite for breast milk, not on your appetite for capitalism.”

In his formative years, Layton liked to shed tears over the tragic inequality of life. For example, in the sandpit he realized that some children had monster Tonka trucks with loading hoists and removable cabs while some children had little more than a solitary marble – and a puny one at that – and he was visibly moved.

“This cannot be permitted in a country as rich as Canada,” he said, shaking his little fists.

Jack Layton has grown up to be a man who is passionate about everything. When he was in university, his best friend was a one-legged, one-armed, one-eyed, black, lesbian Jew with post-traumatic stress disorder called Yufkuptikluksuk. Jack defended her like a pit bull from her often cruel compatriots in late-twentieth century academia.

“A professor once talked to Yufkuptikluksuk very harshly indeed, asking why her essay on sentient plants was late, and my Lord – the inequity! The essay was late because Yufkuptikluksuk and I had been up late crying about the plight of the seals, and because of her post-traumatic stress disorder, Yufkuptikluksuk couldn’t stop crying once she started, so in my view, it was utterly discriminatory to punish her because of an intrinsic trait of her identity. I delivered that professor a lecture he’ll never forget.”

“Yufkuptikluksuk is the kind of Canadian the NDP represents,” says Layton. “If somebody doesn’t defend minorities, we won’t have any minorities left, and everyone will be like the majority, and the beautiful diversity of life will be lost.”

Jack Layton likes to frequently remind Canadians that he has written two books, both of which he is very passionate about. The first is called Homelessness: The Making and Unmaking of Crises. The second book is called Speaking Out: Ideas that Work for Canadians. One of the ideas that Layton says will work for Canadians is, “Trying to love and understand each other every minute of every day of every year.”

As Layton helpfully points out, if we love each other and demonstrate our love through collectivization and redistributive social programs, all our worries will be over.

“It can be done,” he says with a rather dreamy expression on his face that makes many an NDP womyn weak in the knees.

Jack Layton is married. He honeymooned in Australia. There he fell in love with the Inkabunka tree and now collects pictures, statues and any other form of representation of said tree. However, while in Inkabunka, a giant tree spider fell on his head and jammed its stinger through his skull and into the fleshy mass of his cerebral cortex. That is where Layton developed his dislike of tree spiders, which he admits is discriminatory, and with help from readings from the Dalai Lama, he is struggling to overcome it.

Ever since his encounter with the venomous tree spider, Layton has believed that he will one day become prime minister.

“Some people have said that maybe I’m getting too big for my britches,” says Layton combatively. “But as I remind them, it’s not how big you are, but how you wear your britches that counts.”

With this said he tucked his britches into his socks, jumped onto his bicycle, and pedaled away on another busy day of campaigning, wherein he will implore Canadians not to be greedy and instead, hug each other frequently.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

A guest columnist from the Edmonton Sun writes a special column about how cold it is

I. M. A. Hack

Brrr! How cold it is. When I looked out of the window this morning and saw all the snow, I told my wife, “It sure looks cold outside. Better wear gloves and mitts today!”

Are you cold? Of course you are, but nobody cares about that because unlike ME, you do not have a column in the Edmonton Sun.

Sometimes a sentence is so good that it deserves a paragraph all to itself!

Anyway, as I was saying, I am cold. My car is cold. My dog is cold. Let me tell you something hilarious about my dog that will appeal to your mediocre sense of humour. My dog was so cold today that he refused to go outside! I opened the door for him to go walkies and he just turned right around and walked back inside. He gave me this look that said, “You must be crazy!”

That was funny!

I am, by the way, still virile, even though I am a 49 year-old Edmonton Sun columnist. And my children, even though they occasionally pretend to make fun of me, consider me a god. Remember the anecdotes about little Bobbie (August 10th, July 5th, January 3rd, September 7 – October 15, 2004) and charming but mischievous Stacey (November 15th, 17th, 19th, and February to May 2003.)

When I was growing up, you didn’t need fancy books to teach you about a) politics b) what is right and wrong or c) how to do your job.

About thirty percent of the time, I like to write columns about how challenging it is to write columns. Admit it, YOU couldn’t do it because you are borderline retarded. Sorry, did I say retarded? I meant to say mentally-challenged. Isn’t that what the politically correct people say nowadays?

In my day, you called a spade a spade, a retard a retard, and a cripple a cripple.

HA! I’m making fun at the expense of minorities and the political left who are a bunch of sissies!

As you read this in the sweaty lunchroom at Pipeco or wherever you are, remember that I am probably paid more than you are to write stuff like this.

That was a joke!

Anyway, why not go drive to WalMart and buy a jumbo packet of corn dogs? That is, if you can start your car in this weather!

Thin people are not to be trusted. As are people who use words with more than three syllables.

I like to call snow “white stuff” as opposed to snow. Cold enough for ya? If you were next to me on the bus right now, I’d be the one yakking at the bus driver and you’d be sorely tempted to punch me in the liver.

Speaking of liver, it’s time for me to get back to the difficult work of slowly pickling mine! See you tomorrow for another reassuringly predictable column!

OHMYGOD! “Reassuringly” has more than three syllables. Does my computer have a virus????

Speaking of viruses, LOOK OUT! DANGER! DANGER! The culture of mediocrity is dangerously infectious!