Send in the clowns, all six of them

With the upcoming federal election I decided to use some of my time to monitor all the bozos who claim they have the vision to run a country like Canada.

The current line-up is particularly appalling, to be polite.  It's like being forced to purchase a car and having to pick between a '86 Aries K, a '88 Pony and a '87 Cavalier, none of them roadworthy.  It's like, you pick a car, whatever which one you choose you know you will end up in a ditch, you just don't know what permanent damage you will suffer.    

Seeing Trudeau-the-Younger in the newspapers is a source of profound dismay. His IQ is so low he is not even aware of his own deficiencies.  MiniTrudeau has carved a deficit so deep that 22nd century Canadian history books will dedicate a whole chapter on his moronic administration, complete with a collage of every time he cried in public.

I'm sure the English lexicon will need to come up with new number names to quantity the black hole he is creating as we speak. I propose a trudeaullion, 10 minus 128.  Even my beloved HP 12c is giving me an error message as I try to compute Canada's deficit, that should tell you something.

So sad, so bleak.

Appliances & Social Unrest

My chauffeur was taking me down to CGI headquarter from a quarterly board meeting - a true delight that I have been waiting for.  Tony opened up the radio as we were stuck in trafic - another Montreal classic deficiency - when I heard something odd in the car speakers.

Down in the street there is violence
And a lots of work to be done
No place to hang out our washing
And I can't blame all on the sun, oh no

This is intriguing, the singer first observes that the social fabric of his neighbourhood is going down the drain and actions need to be taken.  Next, he seems to have a laundry issue of some sort, which may related or not to previously mentioned social unrest.  Then the singer attempts to find the cause of his bed linen problems on the sun, only to conclude that it is not the only cause.

We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher

His hands are full with dirty underwear and then he plans to take it to an avenue that has a utility coverage.  Which is smart in a way, because washing machines requires electricity.

What is confusing is that he said that he wants to take it higher.  Does he mean a couple of blocks north?  Does he plan to walk there with his washing machine strapped on his back?  Nonsense.

Workin' so hard like a soldier
Can't afford a thing on TV
Deep in my heart I'm a warrior
Can't get food for them kid, good God

Singer then says he fully bills his client, which is music to my ears.  He then proceed to complain - again - this time about some junk he probably saw on a late-night infomercial.  Sham wow, anyone?  The singer then identify himself with some kind of medieval military staff.  Look pal, I'm sure real warriors take care of their appliances before hitting battlefield, the last thing you want on your mind when you slice open your enemy is why the dryer does not beep at the end of the cycle.

If his plate was not full enough with street violence, wet socks and compulsive buying problems, the singer informs us that despite working full time he is not able to feed his children.

Who is to blame in one country
Never can get to the one
Dealin' in multiplication
And they still can't feed everyone, oh no

Confusion and rambling, this is what this song is about.  Instead of laying out his personal deficiencies in lyrics, the singer should pay attention to the horizon line, keep his path uncluttered, tune out unnecessary noise (especially noise coming from his washer/dryer) and guard his precious time.  Money will then take root and thrive, and his then kids will be so full with Cheerios.