The Parkdale Liberation Front: Christmas Wish List

 

 

Dear Santa, honest we’ve been good kids, so here’s what we’re asking for:

1.  A reduction in the Infant Mortality Rate amongst First Nations to the Canadian National Average.

2.  Roll back funding on diseases of choice to fully fund research to combat Childhood Diseases.

3.  Ten percent of Children in Canada live in poverty. Twenty five percent of First Nations Children in Canada live in poverty. Who thinks that these kids are lazy, no good leeches on the public dime? Raise your hand. Right, point taken it’s the lazy, no good parents’ fault. Thank you, put your hand down. Go and flush yourself down a toilet. Shame on you. Please Santa, end Childhood Poverty.

Santa, we know you’ll try really hard to deliver. Now, if you’re not too busy we’d also like a new Xbox and an IPod and whatever else is on sale at Future Shop. We’d like some chocolate candy and some new clothes from Old Navy and H& M and other cool places. We’d like a gift coupon for McDonald's. We’d like a moratorium on homework and ever having to think about the ten million children who die of starvation worldwide every year.

Thanks Santa

 

 

 

www.jimread.ca

 

 

Queen Victoria on the American Presidential Election

We are not allowed to comment in public as Elizabeth knows. However one of the virtues of being dead is that you can say what you want without a lot of proles and Irish agitators having a go at you.

Am I the only one who has noticed that Brock Obama is a person of colour. They have a term for that but I can’t for the life of me think what it is. During my reign a lot of these coloured chaps were cannibals. Having said that you know it’s a blessing in disguise. No one could accuse him of being Irish.

His children are octoroons I believe and they seem like nice girls and they have a dog to play with. His wife is presentable. She reminds of a kitchen maid we once had in the palace.

Now as for this fiscal cliff everybody is talking about, it is a lot of nonsense. There is one sure way to avoid a fiscal cliff and that is a demi-tasse of urine in the morning, a little stretching and perhaps a walk in the rose garden. If you don’t have a rose garden a walk in the vineyards will do.

I rather like this Miff Romney man. He is white for one thing and you can never overestimate the importance of being white. I believe that is a play by Mr. Wilde who, as you know, was a notorious buggerer. Now to be fair buggerers have played an important role in the maintenance of the Empire. I need only mention the Duke of Wellington and you’ll know what I mean. The Ogre of Europe, Napoleon, was a dwarf and notorious fornicator. He ate with his fingers. The Duke always used a knife and fork. The Ogre lost.

But we digress. We were very impressed with Mr. Romney’s whiteness and that of his running mate Ryan Paul, who, we have in on authority is not the least bit Irish. White on white, that’s the ticket. It is unfortunate that enough American did not see it in that way. You know, once we let the wogs into Britain it was all downhill. They've pretty much taken over. When was the last time you bought a decent curry from a white man.

We have a workable solution for the Republican Party of America. We have it on good authority that if a white male procreates with a woman of colour, the colour of the offspring is diminished. We have it on good authority that if the practice is followed for four generations one will produce a white child. Now, how do you entice women of colour to participate? Theme parks with Ferris wheels, cotton candy, fireworks, all free of course. You’ll have the women of colour lining up to participate in the program. You might even entitle the endeavor:

RENEWING THE AMERICAN DREAM

Now of course this won’t work with the Irish, who are a despicable race and susceptible only to drink. Beware of including the Irish in such a program, although nominally white their hearts are as black as ebony. The Irish without a doubt are the scourge of mankind. I have it on good authority that the Irish are at least three limbs below a monkey on the evolutionary tree. Of evolution is nonsense, but you get my point. In fact during food shortages the Irish have been known to eat their children.

www.jimread.ca 

Fragrant Mary Presents: The Importance of Having a Goal in Life

Fragrant Mary Presents:

 

The Importance of Having a Goal in Life: Interview with a chicken.

I am on location at one of the region’s largest and most important suppliers of chickens to independent abattoirs and butchers as well as the large supermarket chains. I am speaking with a chicken.

 

FM:          What shall I call you? There are so many of you and you all look alike. Do 

                 you mind if I call you Waldo?

 

Waldo:     I like Waldo, very nice.

FM:          Could you describe for me your current situation.

Waldo:     Well as you can see I live in a big barn with all these chickens and we walk

                 around on the floor. We’re what’s known as broilers. That means we don’t lay

                 any eggs. We have food and water over there from those tubes. Don’t ask me

                 what they’re feedin us because I don’t know.

FM:          There seem to be quite a lot of you.

Waldo:     Twenty-five thousand plus I’m guessin.

FM:          Waldo, do you fit in? Are you happy?

Waldo:     No, I don’t fit in and I’m not happy.

FM:          Why is that?

Waldo:     The truth is my goal in life is to be a free range chicken.

FM:          What is it about being a free range chicken that makes you want to be one?

Waldo:     For one thing they’re free and for another they’re out on the range. You have some
                 individual space. For another they live longer than ordinary broilers. They eat better too.
                 It’s not just what ever comes down the tube. For another they’re worth more at market
                 than a broiler or  specifically a roaster broiler which is what I am.

FM:          You’re life expectancy is what?

Waldo:     I’m out of here in four weeks. Eight weeks in total.

FM:          And a free range chicken goes to market in how many weeks?

Waldo:     Well, how about sixteen weeks. That’s awesome.

FM:          And you’ll fetch a higher price per pound of meat.

Waldo:     You bet.

FM:          Something to what, be proud of?

Waldo:     I’m a cut above then aren’t I?

FM:          But Waldo perhaps it’s just vanity.

Waldo:     Nobody in this world wants to be a broiler chicken or even a roaster broiler.

FM:          But everybody wants to be a free range chicken.

Waldo:     That’s the way I see it.

FM:          Tell me, do you have a plan, a break-out plan I mean.

Waldo:     I can’t say but let me tell you, me and a few others have been lookin at our

                 options.

FM:          Good luck then Waldo.

Waldo:     Hey, nice talkin to ya. You sure smell nice.

 

www.jimread.ca

 

 

 

The Parkdale Manifesto

The Parkdale Manifesto

(A work in progress)

Parkdale is a neighbourhood. This neighbourhood includes the poor and the wealthy, sane and the fit, the mentally and physically challenged. It includes a whole bunch of Tibetans and now it is home to a sizeable contingent of Roma. We have a methadone clinic in Parkdale that is quieter and more respectful of the neighbourhood than some of our restaurant / bars. The Parkdale Liberation Front’s definition of a neighbourhood is that it is inclusive. If you don’t like it you are welcome to stay.

Please move to the back of the streetcar, do not block the exits. Form a cue at bus and streetcar stops. Never, under any circumstances, fart in a bus, streetcar or subway train.

Please do not talk in a loud voice in public. Despite what you may think no one is interested in your miserable self centred life.

Hold open a door in a building for someone. Smile and say no rush, even if there is a rush. If you are in too much of a hurry to provide this simple courtesy you are either a bank robber or an asshole. When someone holds a door open for you, smile and say thank you.

When you encounter a stranger on the street smile and look them in the eye. Say hello or cheers and move on. The only thing you are selling, the only thing you are guilty of is the joy of the other. If cannot find the joy of the other you are seriously fucked up, par exemple, Monsieur le Maire, Rob Ford.

Please merge your vehicle in a controlled and dignified manner. Please do not cut in. Cutting in is symptomatic of a selfish personality, someone who might make a lot of money, or no money at all, someone who thinks that the world is all about me and who deep down inside is really an egregious  asshole. Merging into traffic is all about asking a favour. Allowing someone to merge is all about generosity. When you have successfully merged wave your hand in thanks.

Do not honk your horn unless it is life threatening. The Parkdale Liberation Front is currently working on a proposal that would see vehicles equipped with a hot wire that attaches to the genitalia of the driver. Upon the use of a horn except in the direst of circumstances, the driver’s genitalia would receive a severe electric shock. The car horn was not designed to be a servant of neurosis or alpha type assholes.

Share the freedom and joy of cycling by not riding your bicycle on the sidewalk. Share the awesomeness of cycling by wearing a helmet, belling when you pass another cyclist on the left. Use hand signals. Stop at all red lights. Glide carefully through stop signs. Transition slowly through pedestrian areas, walking speed is recommended.

Please pick up after your dog. People who do not pick up are beneath contempt, as worthy of our approbation as the bicycle thief. Well except for that guy in the Italian movie but that was about the predatory nature of Kapitalism.

www.jimread.ca

TVFP on Margaret Wente

 

 

From what we can tell Ms. Wente is pretty much what she says she is in her defence of Carol Wainio’s well documented blog Media Culpa revealing plagiarism and dodgy journalistic practices: ‘gee I’m sorry, but no way I’m falling on my sword because Carol Wainio is, you know, out to get me. Besides I’m right in the sense of the big picture. So go away.’

Well who knows and we don’t really care, the intelligent steadfast work of Carol Wainio notwithstanding. Carol Wainio and thoughtful, dispassionate, well intentioned people like her are pretty much irrelevant. That is, as they say, a cryin’ shame.

As we see it isn’t whether or not Margaret Wente disgraced the fifth estate, but whether or not you like her. That’s what we’ve gleaned from the Twitter stuff and other media comments. Margaret Wente suddenly and ironically to the commie pinko left is the new garbage.

(That is a reference to the 2009 Inside and Outside worker strike that pissed off the electorate and like the freaky meteor that gave us the cannibals in Night of the Living Dead, eventually brought Rob Ford to the mayor’s office.)

The public persona, whether you are a politician, a journalist, a bureaucrat, a tycoon, or whatever has been reduced to a popularity contest. So the idea is, you can survive anything if you are popular. For the most part the above have figured it out. You just have to have the right numbers, say 35 or 36 percent if you are Stephen Harper. Whether or not Margaret Wente's career goes up in smoke has nothing to do with integrity or intelligence. She has the numbers she stays. She doesn't she's gone.

As well our ur take on it at TVFP: for the most part JOURNALISM wakes up every morning and has a shower. It evacuates its bowels. It puts on a layer of deodorant and another layer of scent. It brushes its capped teeth, combs its coloured hair and puts on a clean pair of underwear.

Margaret Wente and, for that matter those two Titans of Journalism, Lorrie Goldstein and Sue Anne Levy, as well as so many others, the run of the mill  (there are some notable exceptions of course) smell so nice. They are people you’d be grateful to stand next to on an over crowded streetcar on a day when the humidex is off the chart.

www.jimread.ca

 

Queen Victoria on the Parti Quebecois

As you are well aware TVFP enlisted us to write a semi-regular column from Heaven on personal hygiene and beauty issues. We were delighted by the opportunity. We heartily encourage you to drink a demi-tasse of your own urine every morning. This will produce the most wondrous effects. It will improve the suppleness of your skin, shrink corns and produce a lovely oblong stool with perfect regularity.

Now about the French in general. How can you take a race of people seriously who worship a fungus, put a cream sauce on everything and consider Jerry Lewis a comic genius.

There are however, serious issues afoot in Canada, the village of small huts. You see we were there at the beginning. There was a lot of behind the scenes discussion about what to do with the French. 

An advisor to Sir John, who shall remain nameless, suggested you  ship them all to Louisiana, but apparently that had been tried and it didn’t work. Another suggestion was simply to cut out their tongues, thus sparing you their dreadful mangling of the English language.

 

In the end nothing was done and now here you are, the country is awash in poutine and you’ve got another go round with the Parti Quebecois. It’s your own fault.

Our suggestion would be to fence them in and charge them a toll every time they go to the mall or Florida. It would solve the national debt problem.

On a lighter note you might thank your lucky stars that you don’t live next to the Irish. They are a bestial race at best. Paleontologists continue to look for the missing link. We think they merely have to set foot in Dublin. Next to the Irish the French appear positively angelic.

 

 

Attila the Hun, in his much discussed review of Jim Read's The Big Smoke Blues wrote: ficken Ich mag diesen Kerl.

 

The Big Smoke Blues

 

 

The Death of Mary Dowser Update

 

Recently TVFP reported that the ever aromatic Mary Dowser had died. Reports surfaced that she was abducted in an engineless cardboard sedan during a Luis Bunel movie shoot in Kiev during the Euro 2012 Futbol tournament. Later the cardboard car was reported to have surfaced in California. We have new information:

 

Our sources in Kiev, Ukraine, a real sinkhole of a country, report that the engineless cardboard sedan was yellow. The name of the Luis Bunel film was Lost and Found in an Effortless Beam of Post-Modern Light. Senor Bunel wrote the script in conjunction with the notorious masterbater Salvador Dali. That’s all we know on the Ukraine front except that it is a real sinkhole of a place, worse than Florida.

On the Clara Kappelhoff front Ms. Kappelhoff reported to police that a yellow cardboard sedan was spotted in a field of horses and appeared to be competing with the equines for grazing space. Ms. Kappelhoff was apparently alcohol and drug free at the time of the sighting, just after dawn on a recent Sunday or maybe it was Monday morning. She wasn't sure.

That brings us up to date. Unfortunately we have not discovered the whereabouts of Ms. Dowser's remains, which leads us to believe she was tossed into an arborist's tree branch shredder machine and disposed of in an land fill site in England. Somewhere around Reading.

Martin Frobisher has written to us from Baffin Island: dear TVFP, I know something about looking for things. If I was looking for Mary Dowser I’d look in Reading. Sooner or later everything shows up in Reading. Television for instance, that showed up in Reading, as did the Internet. My guess is that if she’s riding around in a yellow cardboard sedan, she’s headed for Reading.

Other readers of TVFP have written in to us on the fate of effervescently fragrant Mary Dowser:

Queen Victoria writes: How does one know that the woman is dead? There is no evidence. If she is dead she’d smell rather foul, one thinks. Perhaps you need to hire a dog.

William Lyon Mackenzie writes: You stupid German cow. There is no known occurrence of anyone in our galaxy surviving a kidnapping in a cardboard sedan. There is even less evidence to support survival after a yellow cardboard sedan kidnapping, that is to say less than zero. In German that is uber zilch. Of course she’d dead and by foul means and that is what stinks, mum.

Susanna Moodie writes: where is Reading?

Eric the Red writes: Sveeden.

Louis XIV, the Sun King writes: L'anglais putain sont une douleur dans le cul ne fait aucun doute à ce sujet.

Brian Boru writes: Is iad na Béarla rás dÚsachtach, níos measa ná Gearmánaigh fucking.

Betty Crocker writes: Does anyone know the national dish of Sveeden?

St. Augustine of Hippo writes: Ingrid Bergman, but I've never met her. There was an age difference.

 

 *

Recently Ronald Reagan was asked to comment on ‘Heart Simple’, the heart rending, uplifting story by Jim Read. Mr. Read's story was influenced by the Gustave Flaubert piece, Un Cœur Simple.  Simple in Mr. Read’s usage also a refers to homeopathic medicine, in this case the ancient and undying remedy of love. President Reagan observed: well friends the story was written by a guy from the point of view of a gal. But what a gal!

 

Heart Simple