It’s beginning to look a lot like prattle! Here we are, Canadians who read the news, and how better to celebrate whatever holiday or staying home alone to watch Aliens Vs. Predator: Requiem while drinking Bacardi Breezer Tropical Orange Smoothies than by opening up the Santa Stocking of terrible excuses for writing and thinking that we call “Newspapers”.
“Opaque orange; notes of orange and vanilla; palate offers up a reminder of orange cream-sickles” say the Stalinist rummies on the government teat at the LCBO – you can really raise your Christmas Cheer by imagining how much someone was paid to drink and then write about Bacardi Breezer Tropical Orange Smoothies in case anybody wanted to know about them in terms of “notes” and “palate”
First up, reader favourite and apparent Nietzschean ethicist Christie Blatchford may have called out Toronto men for being sissies, and guess what? She’s right, until more of you stop saying weird things like “Heritage brand” and reading what I can only assume is the emerging consciousness of one of the bar stools at The Communist’s Daughter complaining about men’s clothing in The Toronto Standard .
Not to be outdone, and no doubt looking to be angrily shared on Facebook (every journalist’s dream!), Margaret Wente cracked a Bacardi Breezer Tropical Orange Smoothie and cooked up a Bombeckian headline – Why Alex can’t add (or subtract, or write)!
One of the great joys of journalism, surely, is making up vague character sketches who go out and experience everything for you. To better refer to this phenomenon, I have combined “fantasy” and “anecdote” as a single concept. So, in this fantecdote, Wente sends “a parent” to the plausible-sounding “information session about math”- that’s gonna bring out parents in droves- to meet a “visiting curriculum expert”. All this to bring the reader into the subject, to really make us understand why, exactly, kids aren’t learning math. The answer, of course, is a conspiracy.
Better still, a conspiracy that involves yet another fantecdote! And what’s this? Your kids aren’t the losers, wealthy Globe readers (that’s a proven fact), the losers are Sun and Star readers who are too poor and stupid to even realize their kids need tutoring that they can’t afford.
But we’re all losers on Facebook, says The Toronto Star’s Heather Mallick. The vanity vampire, Mark Zuckerberg, is laughing at you, lonely fatso!
What world am I not living in that not one of my Facebook friends has posted about lasering off their moustache? Movember literally just finished. Not once has anyone I know “blurped”. I wonder: is it like tweeting? (By the way, follow my twitter: @mitchberghini).
There we go, blurping again. Mallick objects to magazines about ourselves: gone are the days when we were glued to better topics, say, “LIFE”, or “TIME” or, to a lesser extent, “HOT ROD”. She chastises our tedious autobiographies. Look, not everyone can knock out something as gripping as MUSTAINE, I think we can all agree on that. But to say our friends aren’t interested in the prestige university we felt we deserved, wait – is Mallick talking about herself?
If we’re going to walk away from this column with anything, it’s that if the columnist starts talking about Rupert Pupkin, they were probably drunk when they were writing the outline, at least. Pass her another Bacardi Breezer Tropical Orange Smoothie! She’s on a motherfucking deadline!
You’d probably tell me I was crazy if I told you that The Toronto Sun out-Christmas crazied everybody by tracking down Charles Dickens’ great-great-(maybe another great?)-grandson. I guess crazier things have happened.
Then again, maybe not- at no point in the article do they attack this commie socialist for saying terrible things about the hard-working rich. Worse, he’s an actor, and they’re known unionists. Are you getting soft for the holidays, Toronto Sun? Too many Bacardi Breezer Tropical Orange Smoothies?