Operation Global Media Domination: Politics Day

TIAToday, as you may have noticed, was Politics Day at the ol' raincoaster blog. And, surprisingly, I find that the only thing which out-pulls sex and/or curling (curling porn was a top search, btw) is politics. Glad I found something that did. Getting a wee bit tired of the eedjuts coming to this blog via searches for "Mango Porn."

I am indeed a famewhore of the highest order (the lower orders have to sit on the unshaded side of the temple and stick to beige robes) but even I am not gonna be rooting for more dead Canadian soldiers or pissy, self-serving and moronic Tory policies from the remarkably lifelike Stephen Harper or the remarkably simian George W. Bush. Although I do admit a peculiar fondness for the video of that funny little Chaplin impersonator and that funny Turko-American writer fellow.

Hearts and Minds: Do the Tories Have Either?

A Soldier's Reaction, Upon Hearing of Four Canadian Deaths

Apparently not. It appears to be more important for the newly-elected Tories to distinguish themselves from the Liberals than it is for them to honour the four Canadian soldiers who died while serving in Afghanistan under their rule. Actually, scratch that.

They have no intention of honouring any future fallen soldiers either.

The newly elected Conservative government will no longer lower the flag to half-mast every time a Canadian soldier is killed, saying the automatic flag-lowering was a break with tradition by the Liberals.

Indeed it was, but that tradition has been broken continuously for the past thirty years; at a certain point, it becomes a new tradition.

This decision makes no sense as a PR stunt except that it will reduce public awareness of the fatal toll in Afghanistan, and it does effectively point up the differences between the Tories and the Liberal party. In so many ways.

As William S. Burroughs said:

"It's the little touches that make a future solid enough to be destroyed."

This gesture, flying the flags at half-mast to honour Canadians who have given their lives in what is, at least on paper, a peacekeeping mission, is a gracious and solemn one, and one that does not cost the taxpayers anything whatsoever. It's not cheaper to run the flags halfway up, but it's no more expensive either. The sight of flags at half-mast is resonant and historic; people everywhere know its import. They stop, dead. For just a second. And they contemplate, which people seldom actually do today. A flag at half-mast, in this secular and insular world, has wider emotional impact than a crucifix, or a pentagram. It is more universal than an SOS, more visible than a news story, and communicated completely democratically to everyone who is out in public in a given region. Like radio waves connecting distant points, for a moment it knits together the viewer with the country, and the country with the fallen. In that moment we experience the burden and the majesty of citizenship: of civilization.

That the Tories have heartlessly dumped this tradition for short-term political branding gains shows that they are concerned with none of the real issues of government. In fairness, they never pretended to be patriots; they ran as slavering priests of free-marketry and loyal Ameri-neo-cons. Well, Emerson ran as a patriot; we just didn't realize he was the Benedict Arnold type.

When the Tories go, no-one will fly a flag at half-mast for them. I suggest, in a return to a very old tradition indeed, that we salute their leaving office with the hoisting not of flags to half-mast, but something more petard-based.

Half Mast at the Peace Tower

Operation Global Media Domination: Gay Pirates kick Bloggers Ass

TIAThe raincoaster blog is quite proud and, in fact, almost insufferable about the fact that we have cracked the top 350,000 blogs in Technorati. If you've done better than that, we don't want to hear about it. No, really. We get all weepy and snappish when we hear about that sort of thing unless it's accompanied by a heartfelt "and let me teach you exactly how I did that" email.

PeterPan, I'm talking to you.

And while it's nice to be promoted so my stat counter starts at 30, rather than zero, there's a brief yet heart-stopping period every day when I appear to have negative readers. And we all know my readers are as positive little bundles of human sunshine as it is possible to be, right? Totally, bitches!

In a search term roundup this week, it is quite clear that Gay Pirates kick the ass of all blog-related posts. There are the classic greatest hits: mango porno, Narnia porn, and octopus sewing patterns. And curling. Lotsa curling.

Eagles are good, too. Raptors apparently rank high in the blogosphere; I can see that, you know. Winging through the sky, falling upon their prey like a thunderbolt, soaring in regal isolation, making Technorati their bitch.

Welcome to the Blogroll: Project Opus

A friend of mine is involved in this website, Project Opus, which connects independent musicians and fans. I'm not the world's greatest music fan, it must be said, having been traumatized by a polka trio when I was a small child, but I'm all for supporting things that support people who need supporting (is there a Bras for the Homeless organization out there somewhere?) so I'm all over this.

The Sweet Smell of Success

Totally stole this entire thing, but since I stole it from two different sources it works out to being independently verified twice! So, yeah. So there!

America done right

 Sitting together on a train, travelling through the
Canadian Rockies,  were an American guy, a Canadian guy, a little old Greek lady,  and a young blond German girl with large breasts.
 
The Train goes into a dark tunnel and a few seconds later there is the sound of a loud slap. When the train emerges from the tunnel, the American has a bright red hand print on his cheek.  No one speaks.
 
The old Greek lady thinks: The American guy must have groped the blonde in the dark and she slapped his cheek. The German girl thinks: That American guy must have tried to grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled the old lady and she slapped his cheek. 

The American thinks: The Canadian guy must have groped the blonde in the dark. She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead.
 
The Canadian thinks: I can't wait for another tunnel, just so I can smack the American again.