We’re baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Did you miss us, Possums? We missed you too. If we could, we’d buy each of you a copy of Iyanla Vanzant’s book In The Meantime, because that’s very much where we are: after an election, but before Parliament gets back to work.
We’ve got a full house down on Wellington Street, so mark your “Reporter sits in the front row” square. Either the political reportage class of Canada is deathly bored after an election OR they suspect big news. We’re back at the Soon-To-Be-Renamed-If-I’m-Any-Guesser Sir John A. MacDonald building, so I guess even the nomenclature is liminal today.
Here’s our video, Possums. As usual, from CPAC, with a walloping 427 people watching. The reporters got quite the lecture from some young guy in jeans, to which they paid more attention than reporters pay most people, so it must have been important, but the sound was off. C’mon, CPAC, we want our inside scoop!
Let’s get straight into it, because as usual I’ve left the blogging to the last minute. So here’s our video of the PM visiting the GG to ask her to dissolve Parliament (which is on vacation anyway) and call an election. Two days ago the Conservatives released a Not Officially Campaign Video on Twitter, one which was greeted with enthusiasm and relief. By everyone who opposes the Conservative Party. Because that thing is a mortifying clusterfuck. An expensive, mortifying clusterfuck produced by pricy foreign consultants that got ratioed all to hell on Twitter.
And yesterday the Liberal campaign ad leaked or was handed to FactPointVideo (whoever they are) and posted on YouTube:
Oh oops, was he not supposed to do that? Was that bad?
Hey, mark your “Got your backs” square already! Shall we get into it? Let’s get into it, Possums.
No new Bingo cards for today, but we’ve got ten already from our Covid Briefing Bingo, so let’s use them.
Here is our video, with only 173 people watching. It’s not even the first day of the election and it seems like people are OVER it.
We’re here, we’re caffeinated, and we’re doing this, Possums. Today is the investiture of the new Governor-General, who is NOT me (despite my second-best-impaired-by-Long-Covid efforts). It is Mary Simon, who, unlike me, is actually qualified for the job.
Hello, Possums, and welcome back to another episode of the Justin Trudeau Hour, coming to you live today from Rideau Cottage on the grounds of Rideau Hall, yet again. Just like old times, really. Will we have new porchscaping, Possums? An appearance from the family dog? Will we get the Sophie square? One is on tenterfuckinghooks, one is!
Today’s briefing is named after Napoleon, in accordance with our overarching nomenclature theme. Still no correct guesses in the comments section as to what that might be. But some plenty great visuals!
We shall see if either of my computers can make it through today’s #BriefingBingo alive. One can’t get on the internet, the other refuses to boot.
We’re running a bit behind, so today’s intro will be abbreviated in the interests of expeditiousness which, unusually for a Canadian political interest, has no money or votes at all to trade for influence, but where were we? Oh right, getting to the point.
Here’s the video:
Well, that was a right Royal or at least Imperial clusterfuck, wasn’t it?
So let’s for once use the CBC video and you’ll want to skip to 13:30 to avoid all the talking heads CBC has on salary and has to give airtime to. Well, for all I know they’re very good, but they’re just the warm-up for the actual bingo, right Possums?
Well, here we are again, Possums, doing another Covid Briefing Bingo just when we thought we’d never see another. With the continuously-imminent election uh, imminent, Justin Trudeau has an awful lot of other things on his plate, which is no doubt silver to match the spoons.
Oh, did I ever tell you my theory about why Boris Johnson hates boiled eggs? I did not, unless you were in the comments section of Boris’ blog about fifteen years ago, so here goes. We love a good digression around these parts, we surely do.
So, Boris Johnson, currently the Prime Minister of the Technically United But Actually Rapidly Disintegrating Kingdom, hates boiled eggs.
Now, you might not care, as I did not, as neither I nor you (in all probability) are egg farmers or egg restaurateurs. But there’s a delicious hook or two here: Schadenfreude and class war. And inorganic chemistry, which is always cool. We love a good inorganic chemistry digression, especially with lashings of class war and a dollop of Schadenfreude.
When you or I eat eggs, I bet you or I do so with a spoon made of steel. What happens when the steel meets the egg is…the egg gives, and we eat it. When a posh person such as Alexander Boris De Pfeffel Johnson (no really) eats an egg, he does it with a literally silver spoon. Or, if you’re just bougie, silver plate. And what happens when silver meets egg is, the silver reacts with the sulfur compounds in the egg and a really revolting gas is released.
So, the reason BoJo doesn’t like boiled eggs is, class privilege. I say we don’t tell him, and we keep all the nicely boiled and poached eggs to ourselves.
Dining privilege has its own pitfalls, Boris. Take note.
When you fly too close to the sun, you can get burned, as Canadian politicians routinely find out.
This is a Covid briefing post. It’s about a pandemic. Stick with me here.
Oh wait, speaking of tangents…
We are still in obedience to our arbitrarily though not randomly chosen naming convention of mystery. Today we are Sunburn, both in adherence to that convention (although we are 99% unconventional here normally ((but not conventionally))) and because we have been forgetting the sunscreen before heading out with Buddy to catch some Pokemon, and it takes better than an hour to hit all the Pokestops in the neighbourhood.