No Good News – Vol. IV

Torontonians, young and old alike have been captivated by the image of a literal Gravy Train–  yes, that ad ran on actual televisions and the election still turned out the way it did- not that Toronto has fared better historically, mind you.

Captivated like the rest of us, Toronto Sun den-mother Sue Ann Levy sees gravy on a silver platter– possibly her bizarre modern poetry:

Or could it be the $350,000 city council paid for a report that says what the Toronto Sun Comments section already knows?

And now you go by the name Whisky B.

Or you could live in a nightmare world where both you AND your wife have jobs and pay for things, and put your kids in “Montressori” schools and now you can’t afford simple things like punctuation and “are a what douche bags were modelled after”

No, I have it all wrong. Nobody has any statics to prove any of this. And statics are the fine line between opinions and facts, says Pete Moss (

Meanwhile, Canadian journalist and human rights advocate Peter Worthington is now so old that he has forgotten that he is a journalist.

Oh, but he remembers a thing or two about the golden days. He remembers when the National Enquirer was a respectable newspaper (note: That’s not delusional, but it is a very long time ago).

But that’s not all – the comments section weighs in, referring to the Toronto Star as “The Tsar” and “The worest newspaper”. And a cliffhanger: what did you use Hepburn to respect?

More confusing: The Toronto Star is uncanny:

Freud literally cutting your eyes out of your head and castrating your brain it may not resemble, but we could go for Roland Emmerich. Everyone weighs in on Rob Ford, wait- what? Did I say everyone? I apologize. That would be insane, if everyone at The Star had an opinion of Rob Ford. I meant that Royson James weighs in on Rob Ford and gravy: lots and lots of gravy. Predictably, those with the magical combination of abundant free time, anger management problems and a laptop weighed in with what we could call an argument, if we wanted to.

What can we do in the face of this gravygeddon? Brother fighting brother! Idiots overpaid! Unionized downtown morons refusing to be grateful! Caps lock strained! The internet in a frenzy of violence, like sharks attacking other sharks! The prolific James, apparently writing faster than he can hold an opinion, tells us we need balance.

Specifically, the kind of balance that made Hazel McCallion perfect.

Yeah, go ahead and make some lifeline joke. I’m not going to stoop.

Christopher Hume says we don’t need anything, in fact, “Guyyyyy! Relaaaaaaaax!” And to help us relax, he kicks off an article about cute animals that we love by paraphrasing Joseph Stalin. And if that didn’t lift your spirits, consider what the animals go through on a daily basis:

And what do we give back to them? Nothing. We kill and eat the animals. Which spurs Hume on to quote HANNAH FUCKING ARENDT (are you crazy?), which marks the first time the phrases  “Hannah Arendt” and “Happy Feet” share the same page. If I’m wrong, I will pay you four dollars, and we can discuss it over Cokes on the TTC.

I wonder if he knows that Happy Feet was a cartoon.

If The Star saying Gravy Train Is Running On Fumes is a Dairy Queen Blizzard (and it is), The Post saying Campaign Mantra Runs Out Of Gas is a McDonald’s Flurry (and it is). I wonder how many scotch and sodas and minutes it took for Selley to come up with this:

What wit!

And speaking of wit, Jonathan Kay makes up a 100% plausible story about a fellow gym member asking him why he publishes Conrad Black with the following 100% plausible defense of Conrad Black, comparing him to Orwell, Pound, Wodehouse and Koestler; or, if you like, comparing Black to a drunk and misanthropic Nazi. Take your pick.

Drunk, misanthropic Nazis make up the bulk of the Globe And Mail’s comments section-cum-peanut gallery, and they love- LOVE- reprimanding Marcus Gee and each other, often in the most cryptic, sub-literate way possible. Take, for instance, this ill-conceived reference to Jonestown:


They even freak out at each other over wine:

In my perfect world, Globe readers are being called upon to view this as a caption contest:

I submit to you, my dozen readers: the first No Good News caption contest.

Submit your captions below:

 (Commenting System Switched Since this originally appeared. The result:

It’s a tie!

LOOKOUTCLEVELAND with “Scientists mate lobster with jack-o-lantern : News at six.”


AJSILVER with “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would never be King?”)

About Matt Collins

Matt Collins is a musician (Ninja High School), cartoonist (Sexy), jock (Manhunt), and comedian (Matt Collins) in Toronto, Ontario. Please buy more Matt Collins. [Other Posts By Matt]

  • Seamus Gearin

    “Prince Charles vows to rid the Kingdom of IBS by next Wednesday… Just in time for his favourite bawdy house’s Taco Night.”

  • Danny DeVito

    Prince Charles tries to seduce a young Canadian girl with his ‘sexy face’. It’s a wonder British people re-produce at all.

  • SinSin

    “Prince Charles and his happy Helmet”

    • pengoo

      That was the longest 3 minutes of my life.

  • lookoutcleveland

    Scientists mate lobster with jack-o-lantern : News at six.

    • pengoo

      I vote for this one.

      • lookoutcleveland

        Nulled, apparently.

        • pengoo

          Apprently… But the prize was a big bag of nothing anyways. So, I think we all win.

  • ajsilver

    “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would never be King?”

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