Just so we understand, this ‘Fair Elections Act’ allegedly promotes democracy, in part, by making those citizens who do not have the id’s now deemed necessary to cast votes unable to vote, in elections you claim are stricken with widespread invisible voter fraud.  And this promotes democracy how?

Oh yes!  The more who are unwilling to take part in the democratic process due to their shady affiliations with students, the elderly and other known radicals, the greater share of democracy and freedom there will be for those real Canadians not participating in massive voter fraud that doesn’t exist, but might, maybe, who knows, I’m not under oath.

That makes no sense.

Exactly!  That’s why we so desperately need these reforms to save our democracy.

But just claiming something is true without evidence doesn’t make it so.

Exactly!  That’s why we so desperately need these reforms to save our democracy.

You just said that, you’re merely repeating what’s on that piece of paper in front of you.

Was not.


Look, if we allow the lack of evidence supporting the FEA to deter the FEA, then we would be surrendering to those forces that oppose the FEA, which is not what Churchill had in mind during the Battle of Britain, you know what I’m saying? This is our finest hour. We shall defend our egos, whatever the cost may be.  We shall never surrender.  

You have not said a single coherent thing.  If there is no evidence supporting claims of voter fraud used to justify the so-called FEA, then the so-called FEA itself has zero merit.

But being the progressive thinkers we are, we must protect ourselves from attacks on our democracy by stopping the superfluous portions of the population which might in the future, who knows just saying, attempt to slow down the political process through their petty displays of democracy.  Why, we are just trying to defuse a democracy bomb before it explodes!  

Encouraging voter turnout in elections enhances democracy, not the other way around.

Hey we’re doing people a favour. We’re giving you more freedom to pursue leisure activities like, making paper mache chickens, or whatever they’re teaching in art collage these days.

I think you mean Art College.

Whatever smarty pants.

Frankly, if you’re willing to be serious, the only fraud threatening our democracy is this cynical attempt to curtail our right to vote by making up stories of voter fraud to defend the indefensible.  Where did you get the idea for this silly display of legislative chutzpah?

Uncle Rove.

Oh, I see.






Those elusive spaces to free your mind

On the margins of the pages

Like memories we leave behind

Wistful sweet and ageless


Never lost, never lonely

With time standing still

In the harbour of peaceful moments

Of love on sunset hill






Scissors and string

Soon it will be Spring…

-The Black Crowes








As sequestered from reality as one could be, buried deep within the lower bounds of the plutocratic percentile, Wellborn couldn’t understand why those outside his gilded cage were so heartless towards his feelings.

“Don’t you little people see that I’m a superior person?  Why won’t you kiss my ring?”

His narcissism aside, it was difficult not to feel a measure of pity towards this self-anointed master of the universe.

“To be blunt, people don’t like to be treated like they’re inferior, as if they’re obligated to worship those with more wealth.  It’s undignified.”

But it just didn’t sink in.  Wellborn had worked his way up the corporate ladder, first as a small town banker, all the way to the inner sanctum of the Wall Street elite.  From his perspective, he lived at the centre of the universe, his sense of gravity and entitlement so profound, he believed everyone and everything should orbit his ego.

“Undignified?  I am the essence of higher culture.  I am up here, and you and the multitudes like you are down there.  I am what humanity was meant to be.”

“With respect, I’m not the one dolled up in a gold sequined dress with the label ‘neophyte’ across my chest singing an ABBA parody ‘I am the Bailout King…’.”

Wellborn pulled back as if someone had dowsed him with a bucket of cold water.  Silent and shivering, his mind grasped for words.  His indignation was obvious, but below the surface something else was emerging, something that could only be described as fear.

“You’re not a waiter.  You’re that New York Times reporter, aren’t you?


Instantly, it was like watching a superhero lose all his powers.

“Mr. Wellborn, you’re turning blue.”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken…” his voice trailing into nothingness.

Like all other problems he encountered, Wellborn reflexively turned to the only solution he knew.

“I suppose we could come to an accommodation, couldn’t we?  Please understand, you just can’t imagine the embarrassment this would cause if people knew what went on behind these closed doors.”

“Oh, I have an idea.”

“Listen, we can get you funding and access to the richest and most powerful people on the planet, anything you want.  Just think of what we can do for your career.  Name your price.”

“Sorry, can’t do it.  Believe it or not, some people just can’t be bought.  Integrity does exist you know.”

Feeling ill, Wellborn wandered into the nearest washroom for a splash of cold water.  Mopping his brow, he couldn’t help coming face to face with an unexpected stranger:  the person he used to be.  There was no hiding in that brightly lit room, and staring back at him in the mirror was not the infallible king of Wall Street, but an alien, an alien dolled up in a gold sequined dress with the label ‘neophyte’ across its chest.  In that moment of clarity, the small town banker who once vowed to never leave his cosy backwater, began laughing out loud.

“Dignity, yeah right.”


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