Only two weeks ago I made a modest proposal that we abolish the police force because they are useless bullies who do more harm than good. Lo and behold, this week a young man suffering from schizophrenia was murdered by the gang in blue because he was wielding a baseball bat. There were four police officers present, with a combined weight of over 800 pounds.
One of these courageous individuals fired a large bullet into the chest of the deranged victim from a distance of under three feet. The police defence was that they were frightened for their lives.
In Britain, unarmed policemen tackle malcontents with knives and clubs every day of the week. Why could the Toronto murderers not have beaten the man over the head with their sticks, jumped on him, even shot him in the legs? Those involved should be charged for their crimes and, if convicted, executed by the family of the unfortunate and pathetic man whose life they callously took.
There is, one must add, a positive aspect to all of this. Surprising though it might seem, the dead man was not black, but of Italian origin. This surely gives credence to the salivating screams of the police that they are not in any way racist and do not discriminate against West Indians. Rather an elaborate and costly method of proving colour blindness.
How marvelous it is to see that my old snooker chum Pierre Trudeau has not only become a father again, but is also back in the harness with that talented actress and former Jesse Jackson aide, Margot Kidder. Margot is indeed an accomplished thespian, with a string of filmic triumphs to her name.
In Superman she portrayed an ambivalent and tortured young journalist in love with a superhero. In Superman II she employed charm and guile to breathe life into the character of a torn but committed young journalist, in love with a superhero. In Superman III she coruscated as an emotionally pained but determined young journalist in love with a superhero. In Some Kind of Hero she played a whore. I wish the couple well.
I must confess that I am not a great fan of CBC radio. The twitterings and twatterings of the hosts remind me of a prison for criminally insane seagulls. However, tonight’s offering from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation has radically altered my opinion. In a daring and courageous move, the entire network is given up this evening to a phone-in discussion on the issue of Should Star Trek: The Next Generation contain a gay character? Pretty strong stuff.
I hold firm views on the issue. The program stars a blind Negro who is able to see with the aid of magic glasses, an android with the strength and intelligence of 10 men and a beautiful Greek lady with enormous black eyes who can predict the future.
With such a cast, sure a homosexual should be given a lead role, possibly as the chief communications officer. It is axiomatic that the absence of a pederast as captain is a sign of yet more homophobia in our sorry society.
But things are changing and it is deeply moving to see that the CBC leads us through the darkness with its beacon of responsible and inquisitive journalism, just like some brave Flying Fortress Pathfinder, illuminated the Japanese skies so that Hiroshima may be more clearly discerned by the following bombers.
It is at times like this that I thank God for my Canadian citizenship.