First, let me say that I remember when this kid was born. It was Christmas Day 1971, I was 17 years old and my Dad was on the sauce, serenading us from The Messiah:
"For unto us a child is born. . . a son is given. . . and the government will be upon his shoulder. . . "
Well, kind of, yeah. It sort of DID work out that way, didn't it?
At least now, I hope, people will stop yammering about Harper, fulminating and showing him with Hitler moustaches and giving Nazi salutes and wielding giant dildos. (Dildoes?). I got so royally sick of all this shit, along with all the ads that are being shoved down my throat, that I came near to bailing on social media altogether, and I still might. I've never seen such rancour, such sourness and mean-spiritedness all in one place, and I hope to never see it again.
But I now await the Justin Trudeau schmooze-fest, which should last just about until he actually starts to rule the country. At that point, the country will turn him into the same elitist asshole we thought his father was (only to give him a massive state funeral and declare he united the country as never before).
OK, this is as political as I will ever get. Good night.