Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Fordnado

The two things that scare me most are tornados and sharks.
I've never been in the presence of either but I imagine both to be terrifying.
The other night, I was awakened by wind whipping through my little neighborhood, gnashing at trees and upending bar stragglers. As I rubbed my tired eyes, Finnigan the Brave started nudging me to let him out which was really a bid to seek shelter in the front hallway.
I couldn't really get back to sleep.
So I laid there as my mind conjured dreams of monsters. Large grey funnels were coming at me, filled to the brim with Hammerheads and Great Whites.
That early morning reminded me of pathetic fallacy. In layman's terms it means while a person's getting whipped up, shit is going down around them.
Yesterday, pathetic fallacy played out for real, a mix of high emotions and swirling garbage. It was the ultimate smackdown.
Rob Ford versus Toronto City Council -- which was quickly followed by Rob Ford versus the world.
Fordnado.
It was all Ford all day, all night, the ultimate Canadian thriller being played out in real time, like a Sun News Network version of 24 with Jack Bauer replaced with the Brill Cream brothers.
Rob Ford didn't disappoint jumping up and down like his own Bobblehead, his own massive body resembling The Wave at an Argos game. There he was throwing down little old ladies in his wake, mixing up his metaphors, comparing himself to Kuwait during the time of Saddam Hussein as well as George W. Bush. Every few seconds, Rob Ford would morph into a different Avengers' character: Captain Toronto who saves the taxpayer money, the angry Hulk who turns green at the mere mention of The Black Widow, Kathleen Wynne, Iron Man in an Argos jersey, and of course, Thor.
Clearly, Rob Ford had the hammer yesterday.
Then it was off to his Magical Media Tour -- CNN, NBC, CBC -- to explain the unexplainable -- crack, pussy, Canada's Worst Driver, criminals, murder all set against idyllic family life set in the suburbs, under the roof of Toronto's best dad and football coach.
Then he was off to his own version of Heaven, Sun News Network, to commune with the Prince of Darkness, Ezra Levant, a man who can spot a jihad in every nook and cranny, in his role as spokesperson for the right and right.
It was all happening in full view of the Taliban who no doubt wondered why they had even bothered blowing things up when they could have commissioned Rob Ford to do it for them. (Certainly, he would have saved them money.)
Being a witness to Fordnado is exhausting. It's like a bag of wind that sucks the pure air out of the universe and replaces it with a gritty black wind full of cows, semis and garbage.
Fornado is worse than my dreams of sharks and tornados.
It's truly hell on Earth.






 

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