“Jason Kenney! You wanna tell me he’s a fag?!” Another Frank Low-Def chef d’oeuvre! Even the Low Def Photoshop is reminiscent of Schlesinger’s (Schrödinger shurely! -ed.) crazy camera work. — Peter Biskind’s 2010 Vanity Fair piece ‘Midnight Revolution’ is a great read: “The day an X-rated walk on the dark side called Midnight Cowboy won the Oscar for best picture, a new generation came to power in Hollywood. Dustin Hoffman, Jon Voight, and others remember how they helped director John Schlesinger rewrite the rules on a project that was every bit as risky as its subject matter.”
Come on, Rachel Notley. Any self-respecting socialist First Secretary would have her security people arrest this counterrevolutionary doughboy at YYC, take all his documentation, strip him down to his Scooby-Doos and put him on the first bus to Regina.
Conservativism is the place where charisma goes to die, a great interstellar black hole that sucks entire planets of cool into its vast abyss. Take Jason Kenny. Please. Or the electrifying Kelsey Schrum. Or that RoboCall Kid from Guelph. Tony ‘Mr. Limpett’ Clement. Kevin O’Leery. Dean Del Mastro. The zealots and anti-abortion nutbars in their best blue serge. Christ, it’s like a cult more than a political philosophy. Or something you’re born with, like club foot or borderline personality disorder. And it carries down through generations, like that poor bugger who just did himself in after spending his life unsuccessfully trying to prove he was Dief’s illegitimate son. Like why -WHY????- would anyone want to prove Diefenbaker was their father? It’s a sickness, a pathology. It’s Conservativism.
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