The VanPacRim Courier, 2275:
As mentioned last week, archaeologists have unearthed a cache of memory sticks from early 21st century Ottawa, containing material from "The Greatest Tory Ever Told." In an exclusive to this noosphere-paper, we present the last batch of scripture available to the press.
THE BOOK OF GABRIEL (THE SEQUEL TO GENESIS)
2.22 There were ditties in the airwaves in those days, tunes most pleasing to the ear. "I will rock harder than any other leader," pronounced Stephen the Good, who gathered unto himself a band of disciples with middling musical chops. Verily, the leader phoned in Guess Who songs at a Tory convention, and used the blessed Internet to perform a ballad about world peace written by a discarnate beetle.
2.34 Yea, across the land, the writers, artists and performers wisely put a sock in it, stifling criticism of Stephen the Good in print, play, song, and film, lest their sacred Canada Council grants seize up like Lance Armstrongs derailleur.
THE BOOK OF SNOW JOB
4.1 Verily, when the Opposition began to mutter about a coalition, Stephen "went prorogue" and turned off the lights in their gothic house of legislation, making it even spookier than before. "Woe unto us!" they cried. "We are plunged into infernal darkness and have no choice but to return to Stornoway and other domestic retreats for an indefinite period of relaxation!"
4.6 The mainstream scribes wisely described these multiple, months-long interruptions as parliamentary glitches. Only Elizabeth the Green railed against the darkness, condemning the leader for his actions. Fortunately, the harlots blog was only read by overeducated Cassandras and tree-hugging playa hatas.
5.1 It came to pass, Stephen the Good put the public sector to the sword once he had his sacred majority. And verily, his agenda was no longer hidden. "I will cut funding to Environment Canada and muzzle science-spouting pieholes to ensure my name is not taken in vain," he tweeted at federal researchers, while parting the waters of the public sector for corporate lobbyists.
5.2 Stephens actions were pleasing in the eyes of the The Council of Chief Executives, who worshipped the Almighty Buck. Yea, the names of these patriarchs were spoken only in whispers; with great discipline, the mainstream scribes focused on the dog-and-pony shows of electoral politics, while avoiding investigation of those who worked the gears behind democracys curtain like the Great Oz.
THE BOOK OF KINKS
2.1 I am thy Lord, the Almighty Buck. I say this unto my chosen peeps: smite makes right. Thou shalt destroy thine enemies through attack ads. Thou shalt fashion their thighbones into vuvuzelas and dance on the graves of their careers. And thou shalt stuff thine ears with sealing wax and Sun News, to block off-key oracles like Noami the Klein, Linda the MacQuaig, and Maude the Barlow.
2.2 Thou will promote party toadies, cultivate media jackals, gather public relations hyenas, and lionize the fat cats on Bay Street. That said, its not a great idea to lie with beasts of the field unless there is a decent offer of a reality TV series. But always keep a goat handy theyre awesome for cleaning up messes.
THE BOOK OF COOKED NUMBERS
1.1 A great feast was prepared for the bitumen traders and moneylenders in which numbers were cooked. Stephen the Good assured them he would remake the Canadian wilderness in his image: resourceful and well manicured.
1.2 Nature, a bit of a hag at the best of times, was corrupt and fallen. Not only fallen, She couldnt get back up again. Rather than offer any help that might be interpreted as a come-on, the Tory Pharisees saw an opportunity to drop their drawers and have a go while She was Totally Out Of It.
1.3 It came to pass there was a great heavin of the Canadian landscape as pipelines were slapped across the wilderness, and supertankers thrust into inlets and rivers. The people, seeing the landscape blackened with bitumen, gnashed their teeth and wailed unto the firmament, while waving placards like pig-ignorant Philistines. Bloody typical of people still trying to fight the last election, concluded Steven the Good, as his disciples backpedalled furiously on their fire-and-brimstone robocalls.
www.geoffolson.com
