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| CANADA'S SOURCE FOR HUMOUR, PARODY, AND SATIRE
You may think that it is easy for me, sitting in my ancient chair by the window, to pontificate over the slightest item that can still come to mind, mindlessly muttering the musings of an old man, the ramblings of a lunatic, but it is not so, I tell you, you are a fool to think so--and do not think that I am unaware of the foolishness that goes on around me, though I may be on top of my tower overlooking this fair capital city of Ottawa, and not with my ear to the ground, it is close enough I tell you, and soon it will be in the ground, by a good six feet, pressed against the pine planks of my final room--that is why I relish in the height of my present situation, almost swaying in the breeze, alas, there are enough cracks in this garret to let most of that cold winter wind pass right through my cardigan and freeze my bones, the cold wind of discontent sweeping from the North, passing through the ice houses of Iqlaluit and Churchill, riding across the Territories of Eastern and Western Assiniboia and their rough cities with names like Medicine Hat, sweeping like the four horsemen of the apocalypse through the newly founded Province of Manitoba, built on the blood of the slain Thomas Scott, fool as he was, and on towards this navel of our Home and Native Land, the soft and gentle Ottawa, home of the fine civil service of this great nation, it freezes my blood to hear that 67% of this and 53% of that who say that our Responsible Government is not so responsible, but rather corrupt, corrupt I tell you, it says so in the newspaper I have in front of me, how dare those filthy peasants, mired in the mud of the prairies, living in their squalid sod houses or shabby tents, how can they accuse our just and noble servants of the people, chosen by them of all things, I can scarcely believe it, no, I choose not to, they must have been bought off, some gin-peddling merchant of doom and destruction, perhaps some malcontent from Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition, has taken it to his head to bribe the tillers of soil, the hewers of wood, to tell lies--I would not be surprised, we are nearing the end of the political season, and the incumbants have had it easy with all the infighting among the various opposition parties, falling over each other to put their feet in their mouths and other orifices, I am sorry if that offends, but it is the simple and plain truth, and I am nothing if not a simple and plain truth scribe, laying out my offense at the gall I have witnessed here
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by
Fubrics Short
