Poor Kathy D.
Everyoneâs picking on her. Everyone, that is, except your diehard, dyed-in-the-wool, ultra-right-wing, âprogressive conservative.â For he/she/it, Kathy D. can do no wrong.
On the other extreme, for your diehard, dyed-in-the-wool, far-out-type Liberal, she can do nothing right.
I donât know whatâs worse. Neither end of that spectrum can be trusted to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help them God. Theyâre incapable of it. Neither side would recognize truth if it jumped up and bit them on the ass.
That isnât the area of the body where truth is normally found, of course. Emanating from that particular location more than anything else is the raw poop one associates with the male gender of cattle.
Itâs enough to drive you to watch âCoronation Street.â
Strong loyalty is one thing; blind allegiance is another. Legitimate criticism is one thing; nothing but constant attack, again, is another. BS comes to mind.
I belong to the great five per cent majority constituting the middle-of-the-road, common-sense voter who doesnât stand a chance of giving legitimate direction to government.
Itâs bad when 95 per cent of the politically minded doesnât know its arse from a hole in the ground.
I, myself, have many criticisms of the premier. Some of those are too infantile to talk about, but Iâll mention just one because it would drive a sane man to attend an NDP political luncheon. Iâm not that bad, but when sheâs talking in the House I rarely get what sheâs saying. I know that it has something to do with Muskrat Falls because thatâs 90 per cent of what theyâre on about.
In all truth, whenever Ms. D opens her mouth, all I hear is âMr. Speaker, Mr. Speaker.â
Itâs âMr. Speakerâ this, and âMr. Speakerâ that.
âI would like to say, Mr. Speaker, to the honourable member, Mr. Speaker, that, Mr. Speaker, as far as Iâm concerned, Mr. Speaker, I am very pleased, Mr. Speaker, to have you there, Mr. Speaker, because if you were not, Mr. Speaker, Iâd have no one to talk to.â
Youâre sick of it already? Imagine having to sit in the House day after day. Thatâs why they have so few sitting days. There arenât enough psychiatrists in the province to handle the resulting insanity.
But, as I say, thatâs only minor. Most people think theyâre all nuts, anyway. That being so, you might ask yourself who put them there.
My more serious concern with our premier is the ongoing affair with that champion of everything thatâs good for Newfoundland and Labrador, Stephen Harper, a.k.a. the prime minister of Canada.
I know thatâs not a romantic affair because who could possibly get romantically involved with The Iceman? Heâs colder than an Arctic mackerel.
I think she made a serious mistake in befriending Brother Harper at the beginning.
I know why she did it, but I wish she had not. In theory, it sounded good. In trying to fill the shoes of a very strong premier, she had to make her own mark and do it quickly. What better way than to forge a peace treaty with Ottawa, to begin a new era of peace and understanding and all that.
Surely he, too, would be happy â if not anxious â to meet the new premier on those terms.
Oh sure, he seemed like a scorpion with a particularly poisonous sting when dealing with Danny Williams, but one had to call in the big guns when battling Newfoundland and Labrador back then. Now it would be different.
You all know the story about the scorpion who asked a small boy for a lift across a stream. The boy at first refused and said he was afraid the scorpion would sting him. But the scorpion promised so sincerely he would not that at last the boy carried him across. No sooner were they on the other side than the scorpion stung him.
As the boy lay dying, he asked, âWhy did you do that? I carried you because you promised.â
âAh yes,â the scorpion said, âbut you knew I was a scorpion when you agreed to take me.â
Pierre Trudeau said that living next to the United States was like a mouse being in bed with an elephant. Iâm afraid Ms. D is discovering that our province dealing with the Harper government is akin to that of a girl being in bed with a scorpion.
The unfortunate part is that we are being stung, over and over by the Scorpion King, who feels he has divine right to hit us where it hurts most.
Didnât most of us in this province vote against him last time around? Of course we did, being wiser by far than your average Canadian. Our premier should have taken her cue from that. War is hell.
I was listening to her this morning with Randy Simms on âOpen Line.â Didnât get it all, so I may have missed something significant that would have affected what Iâve written here.
However, as the man said, âWhat I have written, I have written.â
Didnât hear anything new from a lady who is probably a nice person and doesnât really deserve all the bad press.
She may be getting some bad advice when she didnât meet with the family of that boy. The possibility that it would have been a miniature inquiry? Donât think so, Ms. D. You would have lost less by going ahead with it.
In the meantime, perhaps you could take this piece of advice from one of the five per cent. Perception, as you well know, is everything. Whatever you think you are and whatever you think youâre doing, look at it from the point of view of your people.
Fall, climb, leap, jump or levitate, by one means or another, but get out of bed with the scorpion.
Ed Smith is an author who lives in
Springdale. His email address is firstname.lastname@example.org