Today, I’m here — clinging to a dead horse. I swore, by all that’s holy, I was going to let it go, but I just can’t resist one more kick at the can. (And, truth be told, it probably won’t be the last one, either.) So here are a couple of random thoughts about the 3-ring circus our world has recently gotten itself into.
“Hey! Pepe Le Pew! No means no! You deserve to get “cancelled,” ya smelly bugger! And don’t think you can play the sex addict card either: that isn’t even a real thing. You’re giving Frenchmen all over the world a bad name with your stupid beret and your phony Charles Boyer accent. You’re just lucky that little cat doesn’t know the Roadrunner. You wouldn’t be quite so frisky with an Acme anvil dropped on your ass. Get some help, ya perv!”
On a more serious note. Now that the book burners are lighting the torches again, maybe it’s time we pulled Ray Bradbury out of the hat. After all, he warned us this would happen — back in 1953 (at the height of the McCarthy era witch hunts, BTW) when he wrote Fahrenheit 451. But he also offered a solution. In his novel, when the world goes crazy and starts
banning burning books, the Resistance realizes the futility of talking sense to these nutbars and simply hides the books they’re trying to ban burn. Then they secretly memorize them so they can’t/won’t be destroyed by the flames of ignorance. Cool idea, huh? So, if you or your child have a favourite book, jump up right now, and hide it! And here’s the good bit: Dr. Seuss books are really easy to memorize. I’ve already done Green Eggs and Ham – just in case the vegans start cutting up rough.
Finally, when I see the protestors on the streets in Belarus, Myanmar and Poland, my thoughts go to the bravery of Meghan Markle. She, too, found herself in peril when she and her family were forced to flee – uh – Canada. “It’s not safe; it’s not secure” was what Harry told Oprah Winfrey. One can only imagine the panic the two of them (and little Archie) must have felt, trapped in a country as dangerous as – uh – Canada. Frankly, I didn’t realize my country was so unsafe (We use “Sorry!” as a personal greeting here) but it must be quite the hellhole if the mean streets of Los Angeles look good in comparison. Luckily, they somehow managed to get to a private jet and escape before tragedy struck, but it must have been an emotional ordeal.
On a more personal note — and just to set the record straight — it was the Canadian taxpayer (people like moi) who paid the bill for your security in Canada before you told the Queen to take a hike, Ms. Windsor-Mountbatten. A thankyou would have been nice.
See ya next week!