I've finally achieved consistency in my life. Any person of average or above intelligence can predict what I will say next with unerring accuracy. And what I say will always be wrong.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

[ItsAllAboutMeMan] according to radio news reports, 1500 people paid hundreds to hear Bush in Calgary...

200 showed up to protest. There is probably the usual distortion.
Maybe 400 protesters showed up. Still, I think that the Canadian Left,
like the American Left, would rather be oppressed than win.

I wasn't there - I fruitlessly tried to organize a carpool to drive
from Edmonton to Calgary. I didn't get one taker, and searches online
didn't turn up any organized efforts.

A couple of years ago I moved back to my conservative hometown to take
care of my father, One early day, when I could still leave him alone
for an hour or two at a stretch, I was in town one day when I saw some
interesting activity in Memorial Park in town. I stopped by, and saw
that it was the FOR traveling boots exhibit (seems like its always
footwear).

There was some big burly guy singing 40 year old resistance songs,
looking very stern and pleased with himself. Nobody much was paying
attention. I wandered around. I recognized somebody - he was a high
school teacher when I was in high school. Somebody who could always be
counted on to fight the good fight. He was talking to one of the
other faithful. I stood waiting for my chance to talk to him. He never
even glanced in my direction. I waited 10 minutes. Finally I gave up,
and wandered over to the merch table. I bought an FOR shirt, I thought
it might get their attention if I laid a little money down. I signed
up for a volunteer list. I said I'd do anything. I left my phone
number and e-mail address. I never heard from anybody for the rest of
the time I lived there.. You can always count on the left to erect a
very small tent, and tie the flaps shut.

On the way out, I saw the big guy had been replaced by a little thin
guy playing keyboards and singing about his personal victimization.
He was so stereotypical it would have been funny if it wasn't so
depressing. The big guy was standing by accepting homage from a crony.
Or maybe they were discussing what you can substitute in for a
tortoise shell pick (or where you can get these illegal devices), for
all I know. Nobody noticed me arrive, nobody noticed me leave.

That, to me, is the state of the American Left. If you want to know
how it should be done, go to a fundamentalist church. They are
bursting at the seams with believers, but still they act like they've
been waiting all their lives for you to show up.

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