Snow-Mexicans & the Scabs of Scandal

The new edition of The Right Page has been posted on Rob McGowan’s Politics Canada website:


In Ottawa the tumbrels are working over-time as St. Paul the Unknowing continues to feed the Ad-scam Apostles of that malignant Messiah, Mean Jean Chretien, to the cleansing teeth of the guillotine. The PM promised he would cure the sickness, and the cranial amputations of our corrupted crown corporations show he's written an effective prescription. One at a time these Liberal pustules are being found, exposed, and then lanced. A good beginning has begun.

Yet, I was not entirely convinced that the PM was going to maintain the course of treatment he'd plotted. For a moment there, in his first appearances in Parliament after his cross-country Mad Martin Tour, I thought we were about to be treated to the same old Liberal bedside spin. I detected a few feeble attempts at stifling criticism of those involved in the sponsorship scandal by playing the "race card". All the ministers and malefactors surrounding these misappropriations were citizens of the often distinctly uncivil Distinct Society®, and any mention of this glaring fact was being cited as evidence of anti-Quebec bigotry, rather than as a genuine call to examine how relevant this unanimous cultural character of the perpetrators might be. To Martin’s mind, I guess, as with Toronto Cops and Immigration Inspectors, racial profiling should be the third-rail of public policy.

So, once again, the embarrassing boil of Canadian politics, Quebec Separation, popped up overnight on the face of our nation’s newspapers. Any insulting attempts by the opposition to characterize this made-in-Quebec scandal as a made-in-Quebec scandal, we were warned, would be used by the Bloc as an excuse to re-animate the stinking corpse of succession. Ignoring the fact that they had already convinced the CBC and their six viewers that the almighty Chretien had cremated that particular stiff with a bolt of lightening from his right eye, Liberal propagandists cautioned that care was to be taken, lest the thin skin of the Sovereignists be pierced and they flee the federation in a huff. After those two ugly and humiliating episodes over plastic masks and rubber dogs, what the London Free Press would call “firestorms”, the humourless Province was in no mood to be further abused.

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