News of the World: The Carney Carnival & The Wine-Bar Whisperer
Not totally true, but pretty close.
If you believe in the importance of free speech, subscribe to support uncensored, fearless writing—the more people who pay, the more time I can devote to this. Free speech matters. I am a university professor suspended because of a free speech issue, so I am not speaking from the bleachers. The button below takes you to that story if you like.
Please subscribe to receive at least three pieces /essays per week, with open comments. I know everyone says, “Hey, it’s just a cup of coffee.”
But I only ask that when you choose your coffee, please choose mine. Cheers.
On Toronto Streets
On Toronto streets where keffiyeh-wearing and masked-up hooligans are massing outside synagogues and harassing old Jewish women, Professor Wael Sheepadan — the pro-Hamas and pro-Houthis gang leader and community organiser — declared that although the Taliban are their brothers and considered valuable members of the Iranian Axis of Evil, they will not be importing the Taliban’s latest edict: making it illegal for women to hear the voices of other women singing or praying.
He further explained that the rule about women not being allowed to look at other women would also not be followed.
“It’s a great idea, but not workable here,” Sheepadan said. He added that while he personally believes dogs are disgusting and haram and should not be allowed in public parks, he did wonder if perhaps he could put his wife and daughters on a leash instead — maybe even use the retractable ones.
However, he worried they’d tangle like they always do when you’ve got two Jack Russells.
Inside Afghanistan
Oppressed women whispered that the leash idea would save them from walking into traffic. One Taliban wife, interviewed secretly while walking the mandatory three steps behind her husband, said that being treated like a dog was “a dream come true” compared with being punched for hearing another woman’s voice.
“It would be such a step up,” she sighed. “It will save us so many bumps and bruises and traffic injuries — as well as not having the religious police punch us so often for violating the ‘no listening to other women edict.’”
The Wine Bar Whisperer: Secret Davos Tape
Mark Carney was caught on a secret camera hidden in the chandeliers of a Yorkville wine bar, where he’d gathered with his old Davos drinking buddies — John Kerry, George Soros, and eventually Bill Gates, fresh off a private jet the size of a small nation-state.
The tape shows Carney walking in wearing his “man of the people” hockey jersey. Within seconds, he peels it off and uses it to mop up a splash of Bordeaux on the marble counter, handing the sticky rag to a waiter.
The Davos gang settles in with their foie gras, wagyu beef tenderloin, and vintages older than Canada itself. Between bites, they roar with laughter at the Canadian electorate.
“You know,” Carney sneers, swirling his wine, “I’ll be running higher deficits than Trudeau ever dreamed of. But voters are so dim that all I need to do is toss in the words ‘cost savings’ a few times in a sentence. I’ll say it at least thrice, like an incantation, and the CBC will repeat it until it sounds like scripture.”
Soros cackles, Kerry nearly chokes on his pheasant breast. Carney continues, mock-earnest: “I’ll even let slip that I turned my air conditioning up one degree last summer — from 18 to 19 — and my PR flacks can spin that into a tale of self-denial. ‘Look how frugal our PM is!’
The table convulses with laughter.
“Which one of you has actually pumped gas in your life?” Kerry asks. Blank stares all around. “Have any of you ever been to a grocery store? Cooked for yourself?” Silence, until Carney mutters, “Well, my chef once let me hold a spatula.”
The foie gras arrives, along with roasted tenderloin — at the precise moment Bill Gates wanders in, announcing he’s just stepped off his Gulfstream. He joins the table to wax lyrical about banning air travel and replacing beef with “sustainable insect protein.” They all nod gravely, clinking glasses at the thought of “a protein transition” for the masses.
As if on cue, a fly lands on Soros’s steak. He waves furiously at the staff: “Throw it all out! Redo the whole table!”
Between mouthfuls of caviar and contradictions, Carney circles back to his campaign. “Honestly, I never thought channelling Gordie Howe for two minutes of ‘elbows up’ hockey schtick would win me an election,” he muses, wiping veal jus off his chin with the Canadian flag stitched inside his jacket.
“Turns out you just need to look like you’ve seen a puck once in your life, and Canadians will hand you the keys to the kingdom.”
Part II: Joly, Singh, Academia, Carol & Doug, and the Praying Blockade
At a news conference in Ottawa last week, Minister Mélanie Joly unveiled her new plan to lower healthcare spending: expand MAID. Assisted suicide, she noted, was proving “very popular,” especially among lower-income Canadians.
“The great thing about this is that it’s like customer lifetime value except in reverse,” Joly said.
“Dead people don’t clog up our emergency rooms,” the Prime Minister enthused.
“State-assisted government suicide is only the fifth leading cause of death in Canada. We’re going to hire the agency that did the ‘I’m Lovin’ It’ ads for McDonald’s. They can get us up to number four.”
When pressed on other great ideas, Joly sagely explained that mouthing pieties to both Palestinian radicals as well as those extolling the virtues of an independent Punjabi state called Khalistan in India was pushing up Liberal numbers.
She then announced support for new Canadian statelets:
Woodbridge Italia (because “there are so many Italians in Woodbridge”).
FakeCarAccidentistan in Brampton, for Punjabi insurance enthusiasts.
On the NDP Front
Ex-NDP leader Jagmeet Singh said he couldn’t bring himself to condemn Moroccan thugs who had attacked Israeli football fans in Amsterdam. “I don’t consider it antisemitism; boys will be boys, and I don’t see the big deal about curb-stomping someone’s head.”
He insisted Jewish people should accept their “role” of absorbing missiles and street beatings.
If you value this work, consider leaving a tip. It’s cheaper than therapy, less pious than public broadcasting, and the only censorship here is my bad taste. On second thought, it’s bad therapy.
Thanks for the footnotes. With Zoolander and his gang of incompetents, it’s often difficult to determine at first if it’s satire or some fresh hell of a new LPC idea.
So funny. Really funny.