Pamela, (stone)Wallen: not the main event

Mr. Speaker: This is kind of sad, actually. Sometime in the distant past, before Pamela Wallen chose to parlay down a (good, ackshully) journalism gig into that of a public entertainer (Who Wants to be a Millionaire, c'mon down...!) and thence to a public shill and hat-passer for the current Capo, ummm, prime minister, she was one of the more trusted figures in the country.

By now, although us coyotes who sit independently haven't been tracking the polls, we imagine that her public credibility is, technically, pretty much shot. So much that we with a taste for the, ummm, visual arts, have finally ourselves descended into the photomanipulative mud pit with Wadena's former fave daughter.

But, Mr. Speaker, I want to be crystal clear on one point. The record will show that I have been absolutelyveryperfectly clear all along: it is only a set of unfortunate anatomical coincidences -- and that famous hair -- that led us to the mashup you see beside you in this post. We tried all weekend -- dog knows we tried -- to make Stephen J. Harper look more Nixonian. Problem was, after hours of twitchy, obsessive and mean-spirited micromanaging on the old computing device, he still only looked like a generic crook. So, really, no net gain.

It may have had something to do with the copious butter left on our paws from all the popcorn we scarfed during last week's guffaw-inducing nightly newscasts. Us coyotes are technoklutzes to start with. Slippery paws and dreadful popcorn hangovers do not improve this lamentable failing. But I think the PM's visual is more a case of, "if you've seen one moral grey-to-black area, you've seen 'em all."

So while the unfortunate Ms. Wallen will likely hang tough in the senate this week, that august, ummm, independent body will likely hoof her, on the strong urging of the main perp.

Because some anonymous kingpin -- let's call this mysterious miscreant, for the sake of convenience and pejorative labelling, "Skeevy Steevy" -- is the one who appointed the Three Senateers in the first place. By all means, give his discarded proxies the attention, and if warranted, the heat they may deserve. Something less like a lynch mob of pitchfork and torch waving PMO sock puppets, and more like due process would be appropriate.

But,Mr. Speaker, the body politic must keep the ol' probative blowtorch squarely upon the ass of that guy trying his best to keep lurking in his own moral shadows -- the calculatedly bland Skeevy Steevy.

Us coyotes think that no matter how many senators, chiefs of staff and and parliamentary secretaries get creamed by the bus, the source of the rot is the guy who appointed them. The guy whose uber-partisan approach led to a whole whack of nudges and winks around public expense account billings in aid of collecting change for his political machine. The guy whose former parliamentary secretary stands accused of trying to buy an election. The guy whose party was found guilty of robocalls and declared it a great victory. The obsessive micromanager who would have us believe that he has completely firewalled himself from a scheme to buy off a senator's silence in the name of "plausible deniability".

Mr. Speaker, here's the skinny on Skeevy Steevy: if you create the culture; if you hire all of the perps you now slag, if you needed to create mechanisms for plausible deniability so that you can tell Parliament and the country's citizens with a nearly straight face that you were in the dark about something that has your greasy proxy pawprints all over it, if you try to blow it all off at a party convention with smirking bluster, you're culpable.

You're Nixon, laffin' boy.

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