Bleak Future?

We should all hope those news items hinting on the war with ISIS being as good as won are not true.

If that war ends, what are we going to do without all those beheadings and killings in the news?

Our media will then have no choice but to increase its coverage of Gay Pride parades, Black Lives Matter events, terminally p'd off Women's marches on Washington and subversive Russian plans to enlist Trump's support in their evil international schemes.

How many more minutely-detailed incidents of virulent Islamophobia and anti-Semitism can we stomach?

How many new ways will the media be obliged to present aboriginal activists, costumed head-to-toe in animal hides and feathers, beating their drums and stomping in rhythm in front of the parliament buildings in Ottawa?

The only segment of society which, as usual, will be under-represented in the media, will be all those dull and uninteresting taxpayers who are too busy doing something useful to waste time protesting.

And that's a real problem. What kind of garbage are we going to be subjected to in the news on those days when there are no more terrorists around blowing up anything that moves?

Warmongers:

Unbelievably, those left-wing yo-yos in the US media appear to be trying their best to start a war with Russia. 

There's a whole bunch of journalists on hand there who should be looking for some other line of work. Their actions do nothing for America and even less for the principles of good journalism.

Their wild accusations are making neither Donald Trump nor Russia look bad. They are making the US media look stupid.

BLM Right on:

Weighing in on the ongoing Pride policing argument between the BLM mob and the LGBTetc. gang is easy.

This time, the BLM side got it right.

There is no way uniformed officers should be included in the Gay Pride circus. If the silent majority is supposed to have respect for the police officers who are hired to enforce the laws of the city, it is not to their advantage to be seen goofing around like unruly grade school kids with a special interest group.

This is especially so if that group is being nurtured by the electronic media for the purpose of selling toothpaste, diapers and hair care products for men. It is demeaning.

There is little doubt that Police chief Mark Saunders would agree if he were allowed to speak freely with no political background pressures.

Saunders did not initiate this sorry state of affairs. He inherited it from his predecessors who were probably coerced into endorsing the police participation by someone on council with vested interests in the media.

But BLM's case is not easy to make when it is presented on electronic media by that tightly-wound collection of feminine reproductive hormones preaching bloody insurrection with her inflammatory language.

The people behind BLM would do much better if they kept all microphones and megaphones out of her reach. I'd be inclined to guess the police chief would agree.



blmVs LGBTQ etc.

Human wrongs

Canada's Human rights legislation is probably the worst piece of political tinkering that could happen in a civilized world.

One day, when our thinking is allowed to evolve a bit, people will see this effort by past Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau as the most meddlesome piece of unnecessary legislation ever cobbled together by a politician.

Every human right and privilege, comes attached to a human wrong.

For instance, why is the baker who refuses to decorate a wedding cake for a sexually indeterminate couple forced to face up to one of those ridiculous human rights tribunals? How come only the couple's rights are recognized but not the baker's?

Why is a clerk or cashier who refuses to serve someone wearing a full face cover attacked by these human rights jackals backed by their kangaroo courts? Would it not be as easy for the masquerader to go next door until she finds someone willing to deal with her?

And, if she finds no one, she still has a choice. Remove that ridiculous garment or do without whatever it is she went shopping for.

That's not too complicated, is it? Why are her rights more important than those of the people she chooses to deal with?

We might as well see this problem for what it is--a complete set of politically-entrenched human wrongs that presumes to do our thinking for us. Very typical of Pierre Elliott Trudeau.

How long is it going to be before the Canadian electorate takes a cue from what happened south of the border and vote for the first person who offers to dismiss those human rights tribunals and get rid of all that Human Rights and Privileges nonsense?

It's a blunt, double-edged tool straight from the stone age that favors someone's rights while simultaneously denying someone else's.

Basically, what it does is attach an easy handle for Big Brother to grasp on every human interaction. It's a money-making tool for the judiciary, and Pierre Elliot Trudeau was a member of that profession.

Trudeau was not alone in being unable to think that one through to a logical conclusion. There were enough Canadians similarly deprived to keep re-electing him.

Investigative Journalism:

Good newsmen go about digging up real information so as to avoid having to manufacture news like the terminally p'd off media types across the border.

Anyhow, that is how we used to do it on the Prairies at one time. So dropping in to the local RCMP office to see if there was anything newsworthy was on my regular route.

The police Chief told me the bones a grading company had unearthed in a local gravel pit were human, aboriginal, female, about 350 years old according to their forensics. He also mentioned that he'd heard of some local distillers making regular hauls of their Prairie Nectar to customers in Winnipeg and Regina.

I made a note of it in my weekly column and that got immediate results. A mysterious phone call in the middle of the night from an unidentified source informed me in confidential tones that there was, indeed, such acivity going on and if I'd like, they'd show me where.

Right away, my investigative instincts kicked in. Sensing an opportunity for adventure, I agreed to meet them at dusk at a secret rendezvous point. The gruff voice at the other end suggested I bring my camera and electronic flash if I wanted some real good shots.

I was waiting when a green pickup truck pulled up to our rendezvous point at the appointed hour and I got in. The two tough-looking guys on board drove around the farming community, taking some barely used farm roads and doubling back and forth to confuse my sense of direction.

Finally, as it grew dark, they turned into an abandoned farmyard and pulled up to a barbed-wire gate opening on a willow thicket. They opened the gate and drove through into the willows which were tall enough and thick enough to completely conceal the vehicle.

Of course, it happened to be the long-abandoned farmyard of an old school friend, so I knew exactly where we were. I said nothing and watched as they scurried about, pretending to search and locate a few 45-gallon steel drums.

"Oh, look what I found," said the larger of the pair (about 400 lb large) as he rolled a drum out of the bushes into a small clearing.

"And look here," said his accomplice. "It looks like a copper boiler. Hey! It's actually a still!"

They carried on this charade until they had the still all set up with a barrel of rainwater and a long copper coil used as a condensing medium for what they were about to do. They found a propane burner nearby and set it up. They poured some of the contents of one of the steel drums into the copper boiler and sealed all of the cracks along the lid with a flour paste.

It didn't take long for the fiery liquid to begin draining into pitchers from which it was funneled into gallon jugs.

The smaller guy (about 200 lb,) drew a teaspoon of the distillate and struck a match to it. Immediately, it burst into blue flames, so he declared it fit to drink.

"For humans?" I asked.

"Sure. Just don't try to smoke at the same time," he chuckled.

Around midnight we toasted the queen. Then we toasted the prime minister, the president of the United States, Winston Churchill, and other dignitaries we thought worthy of such attention as the process bubbled merrily along.

I photographed the scene and we finished before sunrise. I wasn't quite sure of the exact time which, by then didn't really worry me that much. They dropped me off at my car. I got home, driving mostly by instinct, and went straight to bed.

A persistent alarm clock got me up before noon. I choked down some breakfast and hefted my camera bag on my way to the office.

It felt heavy. I opened it and fished out a 40-oz bottle of a crystal clear liquid.

Those clever devils made sure I carried some incriminating evidence just in case I was tempted to confide in the local RCMP detachment. Or, maybe a bribe. I figured a little of both. There was no way I was going to interfere with local industry.

In the days that followed, I found out that several jugs of this rocket fuel were buried discreetly at some carefully-mapped country road intersections and the remainder was transported to a wholesale distributor in Regina.

It should be mentioned at this point that the contents of my bottle, when properly diluted, were as clear and clean-tasting as the best vodka from Pierre Smirnoff, Moskovskaya or Stolichnaya. It bore very little resemblance to some of the libations that were fed to me in the years that followed in some famous bars in Montreal and Chicago.

Offered on pretense that it was certificated by the authorities, these drinks usually were presented following the second or third round when the bartenders thought the customer could no longer tell the difference.

And that's why it pays to not ever order mixed drinks.

And that's my lesson for today, kids.

Another slaughter:

Regarding the Quebec City slaughter,
let's not panic. This foul deed is not a world-shattering sample of Islamophobia. It's the result of one immature, ideologically-poisoned mind.

And it's going on somewhere all the time. Usually it's some lunatic fringe Islamic doing it to Christians. This one is unusual in having a lunatic fringe Christian doing it to Islamics.

Nothing new here. Different, but not new. Handy for the electronic media because they didn't have to go out of their way to manufacture dire events to hold our attention for their advertisers.

Not very unusual for Quebecers, either. Nearly half a century has gone by since those ideologically-steeped hoodlums from the Front de Liberation kidnapped James Cross, murdered Pierre Laporte and escaped Canadian justice by hiding in France.

Since then there have been several ideological flare-ups such as the slaughter at L'Ecole Polytechnique.

Somehow, these things tend to happen in La Belle Provence.