…and a big disgrace for the Reformatories. They have now fully become what they pledged to destroy.

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Told you so. From one of the best reporters in this country, David Akin:

“You may have read elsewhere that Harper is secretly guided by Canadian Christian evangelicals and that his faith in Christ guides his political decisions. Ask any of the dozens who have worked closely with Harper over the last decade about this idea and you will be laughed at.

Harper has never looked to Jesus for advice on the economy, politics, or defence issues. You can, however, get Harper to change his mind if you write an essay with lots of footnotes from peer-reviewed academic journals.”

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McKerlie, however, you can.

The stories I could tell. And will.

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Dear Toronto Police Service:

Warren here.  Now that you have changed the law to protect the mayor of Toronto, I figured I’d drop you a line.

This story, you see, has pissed me (and plenty of others) right off.  Rob Ford clearly broke the law.  Everyone knows it.  You should, too.

You guys aren’t allowed to pick and choose which laws apply to which people.  It’s supposed to be, you know, one law for everyone.  Remember that?  Anyway, the next time you pull over someone for distracted or careless driving, me and my lawyer friends plan to make use of the heretofore-unknown Rob Ford Exemption.  Worked for him, so it’ll work for us.

Oh, and here’s the law, which you apparently no longer enforce.  Thanks for the head’s up.

Your pal,

Warren

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Look at the bright side: at least when the world’s worst mayor was caught, this time, he didn’t lie. Like he’s done plenty of times in the past (here and here and here).

Toronto’s world class? World’s ass, more like.

Mayor Ford, reading while driving on a highway, going 70 kph.

No word on which comic book it was.

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“Yes, I want to tell everybody that I love everybody. Keep your heads up. We are all family, people of God Almighty. We’re all good. I’m ready.

Are they already doing it? I’m gonna go to sleep. See you later. This stuff stings, man almighty.”

Hard words to read: the final statements of the hundreds of death row inmates executed over the years in my family’s former home, Texas.

I don’t know if it’ll change your views on the death penalty, pro or con, but you’ve got a stone for a heart if it doesn’t affect you in some way.

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A while back, I gave a talk at the University of Toronto. My topic was how big institutions ­— governments, unions, corporations, associations and (particularly) big media — are completely out to lunch when it comes to communication.

I told the 300 kids in attendance that big institutions speak in a language, and a manner, that normal people just don’t. I gave the kids an example: Lots and lots of people don’t actually know how many million are in a billion, I said.

“But governments and corporations and unions, and especially big media, keep talking about billions all the time,” I added.

“Which means they are literally talking to regular people in a language that they don’t really understand.”

It’s not just language, however. The entire culture has changed, too. But big institutions ­— and big media in particular — keep talking at citizens in a manner that is as old-fashioned as a rotary phone or a VCR.

For instance: Back at the dawn of time, when I had the privilege to work for then-opposition leader Jean Chretien, we selected subjects for the daily Question Period by (a) reading newspapers and (b) watching CBC and CTV news. We determined what was important by watching Peter Mansbridge, in effect. We based our approach in QP on what the journalists and columnists wrote in the morning papers.

So I asked the kids: ”When was the last time one of you watched Peter Mansbridge’s show? When was the last time you sat down on a leisurely Saturday, and read a newspaper?”

All of this wasn’t very scientific, of course, but neither is the big media, most days. Too often, big media make important decisions based upon anecdotes, hearsay and a tenuous understanding of marketing data.

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This is a picture of The Mystery Furniture, received from Lala to mark the weeks-long Festival of Joy.

It’s up at the cabin, now, and she bought it in Brighton. It is a mystery.

Apparently it comes from Romania, and was handmade by the Roma (don’t tell Col. Kenney). It has wooden hinges and overlapping planks, as if to make it airtight. No nails at all. It apparently was made as a wedding gift in or around 1850.

The markings on the front – V, I, M plus the weird geometrical stuff – are utterly obscure. Latin? Numeric? Some ancient language? Who knows.

Anyone got any theories on this? It’s The Mystery Furniture, and stubbornly so.

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