When the 'Red Tory' feeds
On rain-dancing, and the return of the unserious and the profane.
A single great blue heron flies up the side of a hill, almost brushing the tips of dry grass in its flight. Normally, upon reaching the crest, this is where the need would arise to droop its wings and drop into cover. On this day, and these days, its all but by its lonesome.
If two boys of black and brown hair were to follow it up from the valley below, dog-led, its tongue flopping hot and pink, both would receive a $25,000 fine in Nova Scotia for doing so. At press time, one can only imagine the Atlantic provinces will continue to follow that lead. And you know a certain premier in Ontario is starting to gaze longingly at that 3-XL “all in this together” shirt still hanging in his closet.
These are busy weeks and frustrating weeks in equal measure. There can be no traditional ‘summer slowdown’ when you’re in the business of “Oh no, they’re pulling this crap again, why can’t they just be normal?” As much as Canada needs to expand its ‘social license’ for permissible thoughts and actions, we must be just as vigilant to ensure that doesn’t again include the terrible, downright entropic experiments of the last decade.
On supposed ‘Conservatives’ banning walks in the woods where fire bans would do, and the gleeful flippancy on display from many in the commentariat and our professional classes in defence of said arbitrary nonsense and violation of Charter mobility rights, so far that’s not off to a great start. But there is still time, there is still hope, and there are those both like me and far more esteemed than I working hard to balance that sadly familiar unthinking Canadian deference to bad authority with comms, campaigns, columns, and all the mockery it deserves.