Jerome Kennedy, the golden boy with feet of clay, took his piddly sticks and he’s gone on home in a sulk. Good riddance.
So, Kennedy up and quits without giving proper notice to his real employers.
Hell, in a mature and self-confident democracy, he would have been fired the moment he bawled out, “If we don’t get on with a decision on Muskrat Falls, we’ll all be freezing in the dark by 2017.”
What Guy would have said
Three words from the iconoclastic Ray Guy’s lexicon come to my mind in assessing Jerome Kennedy’s dwarfish political career: idggicated. H’ignernt. Pin-shun.
By the way, Cocky, on your return as a functionary to the sties of Newfoundland and Labrador justice, be sure and tell Brad Wicks at Roebothan, McKay and Marshall that his letter to the editor of this newspaper, which ran way back in November 2012, extolling the nationalistic reasons why hydroelectric power development at Muskrat Falls should proceed, was “Smoking, man, smoking!”
Who’s next to slink away from the wreck?