Would you believe this was the first week of spring?
Cancer killed Rob Ford, and that’s sad. Cancer is terrible because it comes for everyone equally: people you like, people you don’t, and Steve Jobs. Writing in the New Republic, Jeet Heer says, “Respect for the truth requires us to admit that he did much damage to his family and his city.” Ford brought the world to Toronto in a new way. Twitter target and Esquire writer Stephen Marche found himself in Senegal talking about Rob Ford. Yet Ford also changed the media who now know all the synonyms for “embattled.” The National Post’s Matt Gurney: “Ford’s situation was unprecedented, so we had to invent the rules as we went along. But I like to think I’ve learned something. As a journalist, if I smell scandal I will have a temptation to go for it. But that’s just something I need to measure.” He suggests a Charlie Sheen test when the better test is clearly the Britney Cuts Her Own Hair Paradigm.
I wonder what’s been happening this week. Oh. Oh no.
Jian Ghomeshi was found not guilty on several count of sexual assault, and that’s bad. It’s bad for the women who already have a number of things going against them. It’d be nice if “the justice system” wasn’t run by one of them. It’s bad that Margaret Wente feels justified. (If you’re interested in rectifying this, feel free to vote for Wente who has TWO articles up for the Trashies.) It’s bad for the public relations industry to keep talking about Ghomeshi’s “tremendous opportunities.” It’s bad for Thursdays, which traditionally been the day for doing the work you were supposed to do during the rest of the week. Everything is bad.
Where are our heroes when we need them?
Our shiny new government released its first budget and, to add to the insult of not having a ‘ponies for all’ line item, it also doesn’t go far enough in supporting women. For the youths, Maclean’s has helpfully annotated the budget with emojis. The government has set aside 800 million dollars for tech innovation; with Bell’s lobbying efforts, it’ll be interesting to see how much of that they get.
Based on this portrait of Prime Minister Trudeau on toast, I now know I like to toast my bread to a ‘right nostril’ level of darkness. After the attack in Brussels, the Toastminister confirmed Canada is not at war with ISIS. We are still selling weapons to Saudi Arabia if you want to update your Defence Bingo Card. Listing entities we’re not at war with is a great communications strategy. (Manchester United, the Blue Man Group, and people who text ‘kk’ are my picks.) Even better is the Minister of Defence’s ploy of needing to feed his kids. We should be at war with the criminals in the United States who dare to serve ‘poutine’ but is actually just an ongoing international incident.
Life is the goat and we are the puppy.
Good Enough Friday: A rock from New Brunswick fell down and it made it into the New York Times. A group of senior citizens staged a protest play about being served chicken every day. If you’ve ever wondered how to fact-check pigeon facts, the Walrus has you covered. The CBC is getting a lot of money and one hopes they give Peter Mansbridge nine more shows. Like Mansbridge Under The Hammer, Mansbridge Street, Mansbridge and the City, Peter’s Morning Playhouse. If we’re going to keep rewarding failure, might as well get to see Peter doing bathroom renovations. Researchers have found that alcohol offers no health benefits in a woeful misunderstanding of why people drink alcohol.
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Not Sorry is written by Vicky Mochama who is waiting for death to claim her or for the Beyonce album. Whichever comes first. Support CANADALAND via Patreon. Subscribe. @ Us.
