Rose's Cantina

Back nearly 30 years ago, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau forced John Turner to hold his nose and appoint a slate of people to the Senate and other patronage positions. At the time, I was working in the PMO in the correspondence division and I spent much of that time answering angry letters from Canadians about all the hacks that were being given these plum promotions on dubious credentials. There were postcards and phone calls, all questioning Turner's sanity. In his defence, Turner told Brian Mulroney he "had no option". That didn't fly with Canadians and Turner was turfed only four months into his job as Prime Minister. But the smell has lingered and the fetid bodies of Senators for Life are rising up and threatening a zombie apocalypse. This time it's Colin Kenny, a Liberal hack who was elevated to the Senate at the tender age of 41. Next year, Kenny will celebrate his 30th year in his job for life. What's even worse is that he has five years to go. ...

n wright@pmo.pco.gc.ca Dear Nige. Can I call you Nige? Whew that was a close one! Thanks for the cheque. I had to go to Money Mart to get it cleared. I'm taking the cash down to the Royal Bank this afternoon. Don't want a paper trail, Wright? Wink, wink. Hahaha. Boy we sure pulled a fast one on those damned auditors. Now, there's no way they'll be able to pin the rap on yours truly. Paid in full, thanks to you! Mums the world, old boy. Bob Fife would have to waterboard me before I spill the beans. Is waterboarding legal in Canada? So glad you didn't spread around the largesse. That Pam, she's so irresponsible. Females! Probably spent all her money on pedicures. Oh, BTW, was wondering if you could spot me a few hundred bucks this afternoon. I'm a little light. Those cruises are a bitch. They say they're all inclusive, but you really have to read the fine print. They claimed my  "inclusiveness" was cleaning them out. What can...

Shortly after Prime Minister Harpo finished his back-patting speech about what a great job the Tories did at improving accountability in Ottawa, I saw a post on Twitter from canada.com which described Stephen Harper's talk as "angry". No, I corrected them. He wasn't angry; he was defiant. Harper is a political firebrand, the kind of leader who rises to the top because of his own brand of psychopathy. As Hannibal Lecter describes his own condition, "you have a perspective, I have a view". To a psychopath, the truth is irrelevant as are the implications of their actions on other people. All that counts to a psychopath is himself, and in Harper's case "the brand". Harper didn't defend Duffalump and the other woozels because he cared about them. He only cared that they had been loyal foot soldiers. Duffy and Wallin did the fundraising. Wright did his dirty work. And now, he sits atop a heap of political rubble still not understa...

We heard yesterday that Senator Patrick Brazeau, the Canadian alter ego of Mickey Rourke, was resigning. He didn't go to Senator LeBreton and tender his resignation. He didn't send a letter to the prime minister. In his oily style, he announced he was resigning...on Twitter. Apparently, I'm told, it was an April Fool's prank. More like a mewling cry for help or attention. We have two words for the Brazman, as he likes to be called. Grow up. You disrespected your elders in the Senate by showing up for the vote to boot your sorry ass out of a place you rarely sat your bum down in the first place. You -- allegedly -- served your girlfriend a can of whoopass, which landed you in jail. You -- allegedly -- lied about where you live to fleece the Canadian taxpayer. Hence your expulsion from the Senate. You -- allegedly -- made unwanted sexual advances towards your underlings while serving as head honcho at a major aboriginal organization. This after plying ...

I have a little test -- it's called a mini-cognition test --that doctors can give to their patients to determine whether they have dementia. It's a simple test (see above) that's a jewel for anybody concerned about a loved one's mental state. Friends of Tom Flanagan might want to administer this test. What other explanation could there be for someone like Flanagan to commit professional suicide as he did this week? Even child molesters or pornographers would be hard pressed to state, at least in public, that those who watch, collect, and capture children in various poses and states of undress aren't deviants. Those who declare so rarely pass their parole hearings. If Flanagan passes the mini-cog, then this is further evidence that something is wrong in the State of Harperland which in the last few years has become chockablock with whoreing, thieving, conniving hangers-on. I suspect it has more to do with the longevity of Harper's reign. It happe...

One of the great things about small towns is that there aren't as many places to hide. That rang true for Senator Mike Duffy this past week as a Charlottetown Guardian snoop staked out the airport making sure that Duffy couldn't dodge his questions. Despite the reporter's efforts, Duffy did find the last bastion of privacy at the airport -- the bathroom -- where he planted himself for what seemed like an hour. Still, the reporter remained undaunted and finally got an interview, cornered like a squirrel up a tree. Heee Hee. This reminded me of one of the best scenes I've ever seen in a movie. In the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas , Charles Durning plays an oily governor who plays fast and loose with reporters. It's posted below. Remind you of anyone?

I thought that I was finished writing about Senator Joyce Fairbairn today, but I'm not. In fact, I would say I haven't even gotten started. What began as a small tropical storm this weekend has turned into a full blown Ottawa hurricane. A lot of people on Twitter and Facebook have taken to their computers to write unbelievably unkind things about a person they do not know. What they presume to know is everything. I heard someone muttering today that all the legislation passed when Joyce was sitting in her Senate seat, stricken by Alzheimer's, should be held void. People presume Joyce had no say in the matter. Do they know that for sure? Could it be that instead of taking that diagnosis and feeling sorry for herself -- in the minutes or hours when she found lucidity -- she decided to fight the disease instead of rolling over for dead? She kept on trucking, voting, showing up at meetings, touring her riding. I worked with Alzheimer's patients in another life, and...

Joyce Fairbairn was a legend in the Parliamentary Press Gallery even before she went to work for Pierre Trudeau. She was one of the few women who inhabited the storied hot room in the 60s, a feisty reporter from the Mad Men era who was admired more for her "great legs" than her native intelligence. Joyce always reminded me of Shirley Maclaine, with the short no nonsense blonde hair cut, the twinkling eyes, the sharp sense of humor. Joyce would have had no trouble hanging with Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack -- she would have eaten them for breakfast and they would have served her caviar and champagne. Frank was the musical hero of her husband, the late Mike Gillan, who had befriended me in the early 80s when I left my fledgling journalism career for the comfort of a Hill job. I met Mike through Jerry Yanover and the two of them had charmed me into thinking I would be welcomed into the fold. The Liberals were like that back in the 80s. Unlike the other partie...