The deja vuness of it all didnt really strike me until I drove down to Vancouver on Monday. Theres another election coming.
After our high-pitched, all-politics-are-local municipal election, Im just a bit burned out on electioneering.
It doesnt help that this election is both unnecessary and, more troubling, indicative of the much larger, elephant in the parlour problem facing my adopted home and just about every other country labouring under democratic principles. That problem is that we seemed to have built societies way more complex than were capable of managing, let alone nurturing, under the pressures being brought to bear by the Generation of Swine weve inarguably become.
Were having an election almost no one in the country wants because the boys weve got leading the extant political parties cant play well together. None of them seem grown up enough to be capable of looking at the bigger picture Canada fixing the things that so desperately need fixing and stepping boldly into an uncertain future together... co-operatively as though were all in this experiment together, which we most definitely are.
Jack the Bear, dapper leader of the NDP, has been paying too much attention to his own handlers, toadies and sycophants. Hes convinced he can lead the party of afterthought to greatness its not seen since the voters of Ontario lost their collective minds and handed Bob Rae a majority provincial government. Hes no longer willing to play kingmaker to Little Pauly Martins minority government, convinced he can eke out another couple of seats in the minority parliament to come and play, well, kingmaker.
Little Pauly, on the other hand, will never rest comfortably until he fulfills the Divine Destiny handed down from his father and becomes undisputed leader of all Canadians. So holy is his grail, so inspired his cause, that hes more than willing to throw away a decade of fiscal parsimony to buy his way into office unfettered by minority status. Oh, how soon we forget the still-unpublished lessons of Gomery. Oh, how delusional the trappings of power.
Stephen Hapless, knowing this is, for him, a make or break election, is out spreading peace on earth, goodwill toward white, Anglo-Saxon, protestant men during the Christmas season. Dusting off his best hood, the living embodiment of the ugly face of conservatism is out stumping for make that against, gay marriage, a womans right to choose, decriminalization of marijuana and modernism in any of its enlightened forms.
Gillie is, of course, doing what hes always done, moving Quebec inexorably closer to becoming the banana republic its intellectuals(sic) dream of becoming.