Stop Harper

Like most people who oppose Stephen Harper and everything he represents, I live in a dream world. In my magical dream world, everything is sunshine and light, and there are sugarplums for all. Facing certain destruction of my fantasy life, I have sought comfort in the wise words of Doctor Bran M'Bunga, a registered anilinguist (animal language specialist) and Animal Rights Worker. Doctor Bran is a gentle man who works at the Federally Funded Free Clinic at Jane-Finch, here in the heart of troubled Toronto.

Oh My Baphomet! said Doctor Bran, when I walked in the door. 'The evil Stephen Harper is going to cut the funding for the Free Clinic!'

This is terrible news, I said, taking off my parka, scarf, thinsulate mittens, Sorrel felt lined boots, sweater, and watch cap. It sure was hot out today here in Toronto ... more proof of widespread and unstoppable Global Warming.

Without the money from the government, the Free Clinic will close down!

How many? How many people will lose their jobs, I asked.

Oh, too many. Doctor Bran took me on a tour of the Free Clinic. The Librarian would lose her job, along with the Librarian Assistant. They were crying as they shredded election pamphlets and tore up telemarketing call lists. The Senior Receptionist will lose her job too. She was out helping the local Liberal candidate gather in his election signs using the Free Clinic van. The three Junior Receptionists were crying in the staff kitchen. The Program Manager had locked himself in his office. The Program Administrator had called in sick. The Maintenance Electrician was pulling wire out of the wall ... maybe he could sell it before the evil Stephen Harper turned the Free Clinic into a Shrine to Hitler. The Maintenance Plumber was making a last order of copper pipe ... hopefully it would arrive before his Free Clinic Credit Card was stopped. Very sad.

I sat on the leather sofa in Doctor Bran's inner office while his assistant served us a soothing latte from his private kitchenette.

Western Civilization is evil, said Doctor Bran. Without this clinic, there will be a bloody uprising when The Youth realize that nobody cares about them. It will be very bad. This is a war crime.

I could only nod my head sadly and stir my cane sugar slowly into my cup with the Liberal Party silver spoon.

Let me show you, said Doctor Bran, after we had finished our latte and shared some salmon steaks, caviar, and artichoke heart salad. He turned on the surveillance camera for the small, cramped room that acted as the public section of the Free Clinic. I was saddened that the responsible, but tight fiscal policy of the Liberals had only allowed such a small public area.

The film was grainy at first, then: A Looter-Canadian came into the clinic. The date stamp on the video said that it was three in the morning. The poor man was dressed in the uniform of despondency ... pants around his butt (the lack of a belt symbolic of poverty), his hat worn sideways (symbolic of the hurt of a rejected, but vibrant sub-culture), and gold chains of poverty around his neck. He pounded on the bullet proof window and the Night Receptionist Assistant Trainee came to the glass.

Yo, beotch. Sum whi' ho dun cal me'uh N* he said in the poetic melody of Jane-Finch Looter Ebonic. He pounded on the glass again with his Krupp-und-Skoda nine millimeter.

The poor oppressed man, I blurted, he lives in such fear of the rampaging Toronto Police and the Canadian Army that he is forced to carry a gun when he goes out at three in the morning! But what of this mysterious 'N' word? What horrible insult could it be that it drove this poor man into a Free Clinic at three in the morning? Did this evil and cruel white woman call him a Nin'com'poop? Ne'er-do-well? Nitwit? Nutjob? Nutbar? Ninny? Nanocephalus? Nerd? Nasty? Numbskull? Nerfgerbil?

I screamed in horror when Doctor Bran whispered the dreaded N-word into my ear. The exact same word celebrated by Rap Artisans and Hip-Hop Movie Stars! But when used by a non-politically correct person, it is turned into a thing of evil, and deserving of reparations!

I felt marginally better when the video showed the Night Assistant Receptionist Trainee give the downtrodden man twenty dollars in exchange for his signature on the Racism Incident Report. He left, making a phone call on his cell phone. He was seeking support from his special friend, who had a rock for him. A rock of love!

There are endless hours of these sad incidents. I left the Free Clinic before Doctor Bran was to have dinner with Malcom X, his Labrador Retriever.

Please help me save the Free Clinic. If our Looter-Canadians do not have access to the comfort and support of the Clinic, they will turn to crime! Send me your money!

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.