Oy, Canada
Rob Ford and Ted Cruz have certainly changed the way Americans think about Canada. Never again will we be able to see it as the innocuous, friendly place that gave the world curling, Paul Anka and the Mounties' Musical Ride. We probably should have seen this coming when Justin Bieber began to exhibit signs of Michael Jacksonianism. There is some dark shit in America's Attic.
The best news for bruised and weary Americans is, we don't own this. (Ford, I mean -- I'll get to Cruz later.) It's not as if we elected Rush Limbaugh mayor of New York -- just the opposite. It was Canadians who handed their largest city to an obese, right-wing, racist, homophobic drug abuser. And not a clever one. On a scale of one to ten, with one being "I got hooked in the service" and ten being "Bitch set me up," "I was in one of my drunken stupors" is the worst excuse ever for smoking crack. He might have pointed out that no public money was spent on the rock, or that it's a fairly victimless crime compared with, say, Bob Filner's attempt to stop-and-frisk every woman in San Diego, but no. Ford hasn't even organized a photo-op with a clergyman, or asked Torontonians to pray for him. Canadian politicians are weird.
They have to come south to be vicious. For a senator who has zero legislative accomplishments and a deep hatred of the United States government, Ted Cruz has succeeded in lodging himself in our consciousness like asbestos in the lungs of a building renovator. His irritating nasal voice and odd appearance, like something you'd get if Bill Murray screwed a panda, have been catnip for the media, eager to personalize the Tea Party's latest assault on Americans who had the gall to re-elect Barack Obama. For what it's worth, even the Houston Chronicle reversed its endorsement of him.
He has been so toxic for the Republicans that a conspiracy theory made the rounds that he was a Democratic mole. Comparisons with Joseph McCarthy are unfair to McCarthy. Even Rand Paul can't stand him. He is my favorite mole since Mole. You know, The Wind In the Willows, a book he may want to read in his next filibuster. Every dollar he collects from the Republican base is a dollar they won't have to spend on bullets, beer and crystal meth. Go, Teddy, go!
The best news for bruised and weary Americans is, we don't own this. (Ford, I mean -- I'll get to Cruz later.) It's not as if we elected Rush Limbaugh mayor of New York -- just the opposite. It was Canadians who handed their largest city to an obese, right-wing, racist, homophobic drug abuser. And not a clever one. On a scale of one to ten, with one being "I got hooked in the service" and ten being "Bitch set me up," "I was in one of my drunken stupors" is the worst excuse ever for smoking crack. He might have pointed out that no public money was spent on the rock, or that it's a fairly victimless crime compared with, say, Bob Filner's attempt to stop-and-frisk every woman in San Diego, but no. Ford hasn't even organized a photo-op with a clergyman, or asked Torontonians to pray for him. Canadian politicians are weird.
They have to come south to be vicious. For a senator who has zero legislative accomplishments and a deep hatred of the United States government, Ted Cruz has succeeded in lodging himself in our consciousness like asbestos in the lungs of a building renovator. His irritating nasal voice and odd appearance, like something you'd get if Bill Murray screwed a panda, have been catnip for the media, eager to personalize the Tea Party's latest assault on Americans who had the gall to re-elect Barack Obama. For what it's worth, even the Houston Chronicle reversed its endorsement of him.
He has been so toxic for the Republicans that a conspiracy theory made the rounds that he was a Democratic mole. Comparisons with Joseph McCarthy are unfair to McCarthy. Even Rand Paul can't stand him. He is my favorite mole since Mole. You know, The Wind In the Willows, a book he may want to read in his next filibuster. Every dollar he collects from the Republican base is a dollar they won't have to spend on bullets, beer and crystal meth. Go, Teddy, go!
posted by Buttermilk Sky at 4:39 PM
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