The Meaning of Words

Humpdy-Dumpty said to Alice, "When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean, neither more nor less." We are left to wonder what meaning he would have chosen for the words "recession" and "depression".

Prior to 1929, a depression was understood to mean an area lower than the surrounding surface, such as a pot hole. In economic terms, it meant what we now call a recession, a temporary period of contraction limited in scope. Nothing serious. The present "recession" appears to be quite serious indeed. The great gurus of our age, the economists, have not yet used the dreaded word Depression. Perhaps they'll invent another euphemism.

Economists issue forecasts on a regular basis. They're almost always wrong. Economics is a science, they would have us believe. There's a Nobel Prize for Economics. But is it all hogwash? The High Priest of laissez-faire capitalism, Alan Greenspan, now bemoans the fact that he was wrong all along in championing deregulation of the markets. Government "staying out of our lives", the mantra of the right wing, is now seen as disastrous. Retirement nest eggs founded on stocks and mutual funds are being depleted. "Freedom 95?" headlined Maclean's Magazine in mocking reference to London Life's famous "Freedom 55" campaign, whereby one could enjoy a worry-free retirement at age 55 by means of smart investing.

We are told repeatedly that the Canadian banking system is the soundest in the world. We have nothing to worry about. Not like the U.S. But bank stocks are falling like stones. "Stocks have never been cheaper", the brokers tell us, "now is the time to buy." Warren Buffett is buying. The panic is over. Oh, yeah?

The American Dream, the dream of riches, is coming undone. This aspiration always seemed a bit crass to me. Is the pursuit of money and all that it brings, the sole purpose of life? Or even the most important? What is the true meaning of "riches"? Get a life, guys.

Humpdy-Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpdy-Dumpdy had a great fall. Our financial wizards are looking to all the king's horses and all the king's men to put him back together again.

Defeat in Afghanistan?

The senior British commander declares that victory is impossible without including the Taliban in the long term solution. Finally, some-one of consequence is coming around to my point of view. Make no mistake, I have no love for the Taliban, but realism has to intrude at some point. >Click this link

The Curse of the Billy Goat?

You have to feel sorry for the long-suffering and loyal fans of the Chicago Cubs. World Series champions in 1908, they never repeated, but expectations were high on this the hundredth anniversary of their triumph. They had the best won-lost record in the National League, but it was not to be. The Dodgers took care of them three games to none in the first round of the playoffs.

The Cubs were formed in 1870 and were charter members of the National League in 1876. They were powerful in the early 20th century with the famous double play combination of Tinkers to Evers to Chance.

We've all heard of the Curse of the Bambino which haunted the Red Sox ever since 1919 when they traded away Babe Ruth. The Sox finally lifted that curse in 2004 with a World Series championship, so Cub fans were looking forward to lifting the less famous Curse of the Billy Goat, which is an amusing story in itelf.

At a World Series game at Wrigley Field in 1945, the owner of the Billy Goat tavern, Billy Sianis, bought two seats, one for himself and one for his billy goat. Because the odour was bothering some patrons, he was asked to leave. Outraged, Sianis placed a curse on the Cubs, saying there would never again be a World Series game at Wrigley. The legend was born.

Harry Caray was an institution at Wrigley. He was the field announcer and for years he led the fans in singing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" during the seventh inning stretch. It was fun to watch. He would lean out of the broadcast booth with a hand-held mike; he couldn't sing for beans but it didn't matter. Harry is spared this year's usual disappointment; he died in 1998.

My Civic Duty

I'm going to cast my ballot for an individual and a party that has no hope of winning. Why? Because my vote doesn't count no matter what. Cynical? Not at all. The only way my vote would count is if, without me it would be a tie. The odds of that happening are astronomical. So there is my tiny voice in the wilderness - peep, squeak. So why bother voting? I still have this quaint and antiquated notion of civic duty. Silly, isn't it? But it's the reason so many people don't vote.

Stephen Harper is a brilliant man. He knows that people vote the image and not the essence. They generally can't tell the difference, so they're led by the nose. The fireside chat, the sweater vest, children being taken to school. It makes me want to puke, but it sells. Politicians have always been great baby kissers and dog petters, but he leaves them in the dust.

Stéphane Dion is a highly intelligent man and very strong and resolute, he was the force behind the Clarity Bill, but I doubt his wisdom. His image sucks and the Conservatives are pounding away at it with great delight.

Jack Layton wants us to believe he can become Prime Minister, so I don't think too much of his intelligence or his wisdom. The NDP is yesterday, they have no policy to distinguish them from the others. Let's just thank them for Medicare and lay them to rest.

Gilles Duceppe is the joker in the deck. He impresses a good number of people of both languages. He is quick and incisive, he can cut like a knife. This quality is typical of so many Quebecois. Non-Conservatives hang their hopes on his ability to limit Tory gains in that province.

Liz May is going nowhere, but wouldn't it be a gas if she would upset Peter MacKay? She is a breath of fresh air and the environment needs a champion. Certainly it's not on Harper's agenda, and Dion's Green Shift will likely die in the womb.

So there you have it. It appears likely that we'll give Harper his majority and live to regret it.