This article is a refreshing and much needed real world look at Manitoba and Canadian politics. Hopefully this can spur more to take action rather than continue to ignore as it only gets worse.
The late poet Charles Bukowski. (File Photo)
Another political shoelace snaps, with no time left
May 13 2017 at 5:41 PM
A woman, a premier who has gone flat, a political disease called corruption, an irksome invoice for Canada Goose parkas. the chattering class can’t Wynne for losing but at least the bureaucrats are warm as toast. there are fears that hold you so still you can study them like dollar amounts on an electricity bill. it’s not the large things in life that send a taxpayer to the madhouse. death he’s ready for, or floods in Gatineau, Montreal and Toronto murders in broad daylight, robberies and fires … no, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies that send a taxpayer to the madhouse … not the refusal of disability benefits; or the death of a love but the $16 orange juice, the vanity cardboard cut-outs of a prime minister, Trudeau’s embracement of selfies and non-answers. they’re like a shoelace snapping with no time left … The dread of politics is that swarm of broken promises that kills optimism quicker than light’s speed and which are always there – the expensed packet of chewing gum by a political hack. it’s not the number of billion-dollar boondoggles, but the reasons why. like saving two political seats in a disastrous government. debt and deficits in the billions burying our children in IOUs taxes that never go down, only up or foreclosures on dreams. these seem forever to be there no hirings only firings the oil patch and Notley’s roughnecks besieged and abandoned. fort mcmurray’s burning again, by the way not in flames, but in EI pain. doing it or having it done to you, or lying on a hallway gurney outside ER no bed bugs but no hospital bed either health care’s stopped up like a plugged sink, the nurses are gone the cut-out prime minister smiles but doesn’t care, and the politicians are lazy. and then there are those who insist they’re your friends; like the drunk at the next bar stool. or the Tory who wants to be the next leader hard right, soft right but who’s right? there’s always that, of course, and worse; like a preacher in the senate with moral failures and the teenaged girl with whom he failed. the senate light has all but burned out the hall light, the front light, the back light the inner light, looking back; it’s darker than hell and twice as expensive. pay the pastor his pension then show him to the door. suddenly two red lights in your rear-view mirror your sphincter tightens and your hands sweat no booze on your breath no skunk weed in your lungs yet the cop says blow, and you say no but a new Liberal law demands yes. and then you find out for the first time that handcuffs can be tight the law can be an ass, and solitary ain’t what it’s cracked up to be. china, russia, and the united states of america a maoist, a commie and a cartoon what else is new? north korea has the atomic bomb, that’s what but shoddy missiles isis, al-qaeda, and the taliban – they have us all in their sights buckle up and kiss it all goodbye.. so that’s it world, take a look around cut and paste while there’s still time. with each broken shoelace out of one hundred broken shoelaces, one man, one woman, one thing enters a madhouse. so be careful when you bend over. firstname.lastname@example.org