1. Repurpose Mayan Apocalypse Escape Pods.
2. Get in shape.
3. See a UFO.
4. Read at least three books.
5. Stop with the cosmetic surgeries, maybe get tattoos instead.
6. Stop Hate-Visiting Facebook pages of people who drive me crazy.
7. Go easy on the cocaine.
8. Become a volunteer.
9. Text more.
10. Join Choir! Choir! Choir!
11. Be the man.
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I know it’s not politically correct to do this but I’m going to do it anyway, Merry Christmas everybody! I could say something like “Happy Holidays,” or “Season’s Greetings,” like the nerds in the office want, but I’ve got to be me! Rob Ford is Rob Ford, and if that means taking the difficult path of the warrior, then that’s the car I gotta drive, and if you don’t like it, well, you can just sit on it. So if you’re gay or an Indian or Jewish and don’t respect Jesus and commerce, well, just ignore this and continue with your Chinese food and movies. (By the way, if you’re looking for a movie to see I’d recommend The Hobbit. It is WAY cool! I’ve seen it three times and consider it an early Oscar favourite.)
Now that I’ve gotten the “politics” out of the way, I just want to say, WOW!!!!
What a freakin’ year!
Our very own Toronto Argonauts won the Grey Cup, there was a bunch of black on black killings in gangtown, and until the left-wing media drove me to quit, I went on a diet. Even more, we’ve all had to battle through the NHL lockout and the subsequent hockey pool draught it’s caused, we shared in the emotional roller coaster that was the Ikea Monkey, and finally we all survived the Mayan Apocalypse! (I tell you, I was never happier to have a vacation property in Florida (two swimming pools) than I was on December 21st when I thought it was all coming down! Anyway, I want you all to know that it was my honour to serve as your captain through all this joy and pain, all this sunshine and rain. Toronto, you can always count on me to be your quarterback.
I want to add that at city hall we’re really proud that we’ve been able to slow down the gravy train. It’s third and long for the socialists and downtown elite and soon we’ll have a casino the size of an airport right in the middle of Toronto, firmly establishing us as a world-class city. We have an awful lot to look forward to in 2013, so rock on, T.O!
Here’s hoping you all fight hard, but fight fair on Boxing Day, and that you get the stuff you want!
Rob
PS: And remember, if you get stopped during a holiday ride program, always say that you haven’t had anything to drink so that the police officer doesn’t have reasonable cause to give you a breathalyzer!
It was a cold day in Toronto, blank and windy, and none of the people I was accustomed to seeing were around. The woman normally stationed right at the corner of Huron and Bloor, the one that I don’t much like, wasn’t there. Neither was the ghost man in front of the Second Cup or the woman with the swollen legs who dozes on the bench. It was too cold, and they must have all been taking shelter somewhere.
And then I saw two young students, happy and kissing on the street corner. Bright-eyed and lost in one another, they seemed wholly ascendant and in love, drawn to one another as if out of the pure, unbidden force of chemistry. Radiating optimism, they were a little stream of light running through this otherwise bleak day and I thought about giving the basket to them. I imagined how special they and their love would feel, that out of the entire universe– on the eve of the apocalypse, no less– they were chosen for this gift. At night they would feed one another the weird, unpredictable delicacies from the package, and cozy in their student apartment would watch a favourite movie on the laptop, excited about going home for Christmas, about growing up and being in love.
But then I thought, “No, I should stick to my plan.”
And so I kept walking and very soon came across an old man reclining defiantly on the sidewalk as if a Playboy centerfold. A burning cigarette was in the hand that propped up his head, his toque was askance, his beard dirty, yellow and mean, and he had a look of permanent indifference to him. I asked him if he wanted the gift basket. He asked what it was, more of a challenge than a question, really, and I told him. He said sure and so I put it down beside him. I don’t think he thanked me– it was just more stuff, something he might be able to translate into something useful to him. As this was taking place a young woman was walking into the Noodle Bowl and witnessed this unexpected moment on the last day of the world, “Merry Christmas,” she yelled, chasing after me, “that was beautiful, Merry Christmas, Merry, Merry Christmas, and I love your dog, she’s just the cutest thing, oh, this is the best, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much I needed that!”
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As everybody knows, December 21st, 2012 is the date the Mayans predicted as the end of time. Some are interpreting this to mean the apocalypse is upon us, while others see it as a time when the consciousness of the world is elevated and we move into some sort of different, perhaps even enlightened, phase.
Ridicule and nervous laughter abounds.
But could we actually be reaching a kind of tipping point?
The Information Age has accelerated our world in unprecedented ways. I think it’s fair to say that our civilization has changed more in the last 15 years than in all the millennia stacked before it. And as I sit at home in front of my computer with streams of information flowing through me from limitless channels, I find myself in a perpetual state of cognitive dissonance. It seems that almost all of the inherited cultural beliefs that shepherded me into the mainstream of North American society seem tragically flawed, even deceptive.
There are simply too many examples to cite, but after the murders in Connecticut, who in their right mind could possibly oppose stricter gun control laws? The only reason a rational (if selfish) person would do so was to protect a financial interest above a human one, or because they valued the reassurance and confidence they received from having their weapon of choice at the ready over the proven actuality that innocents are going to be slaughtered in order to achieve this (perceived) liberty. (Adam Gopnik put this much better in the New Yorker)
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2012/12/newtown-and-the-madness-of-guns.html )
As far as I’m concerned, anybody who trots out the 2nd Amendment as rationale for owning an AK-47 is mad and should be seeing a mental hair care professional. And really, shouldn’t people who feel a need to own guns (without any obvious necessity for them) have to see a psychiatrist every week? Isn’t there something delusional and potentially destructive in that desire to be armed, something that suggests an anti-social character waiting to emerge in the worst possible way?
We all know that guns are not just part of American culture, but bound and smothered by politics are a part of the economic machinery that governs the nation. Politically, such elephants in the rooms as Global Warming and Gun Control, matters that need to be addressed with utter urgency and sincerity, weren’t even spoken about in the US Presidential debates. Is that not crazy?
Still, the fact the President Obama went on TV and spoke about gun control is a good sign. Hopefully, this suggests a tipping point may be at hand, and what is truly important will no longer be held hostage by political and economic interests. Maybe something like the Overview Effect is happening to all of us, and we’re starting to realize that not getting shot is a civil right and that all living things are mysteriously bound, obliging us to serve the whole rather than the self.
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