Securing the Foundation

If the Mayor can have two running mates, well, so can I. Motivated by an interest in correcting the sexist imbalance in this fine town, and inspired by the arts not funded by governmental handouts, I announce a second deputy male mayoral candidate that is well known to you all. A round of applause for Sargon the Magnificent if you please, and of course you all worship your resident astrologer, so an endless round of applause the collective is treated too at their own expense. Thank you everyone for wearing your loyalties on your sleeve.

Vote Foggy / Reginaldson / Magnificent for change that is truly magical, tangible and logical. Change is always good, so long as you place your X next to the proper solution.

The Opposition

I have never, ever, been so filled with outrage as I am right now. My hand holding my morning scotch is trembling. The tinkling of the ice (two cubes, made from glacier water) has upset my adorable house cat, Mister Whiskers. He is now licking his paw. I can only quench my rage by licking scotch off the fingers of my ruthlessly efficient assistant, Sonjia DeSade. You can learn alot from cats.


It would be unfair to mention what horrible crimes what's his name, 'The Mayor', committed in his past life, let alone the details of his botched execution that lead to improvements in the development of an alternating current distribution system. I avoid such low tactics.



Lisa keeps posting pictures of one of her boots. Why? Let us face it, is this the sort of creature that You, the People of Mitchieville, want to wake up to in the morning? Have her tell you what to do, to fetch and carry? Take a hint, my fellow citizens: Lisa, if elected, will have you polishing those boots when they are not kicking you in the arse.



Todd is not speaking much lately. Is he indisposed? Has he taken the mother ship back to the home planet? Todd's culture is alien to many of our diverse multi-cultural cultures. He stands out in the petri dish, so to speak.


I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

On the campaign trail

At election time especially, the personal lives of the participants on the stage are constantly under scrutiny. The people want to know who these people are having sex with, are fascinated by what and who they eat, pay close attention to what they wear, how they transport themselves and also sniff out past sins. Never let it be said that Lisa Foggy ignores the will of the masses. With the help of my obedient servant Sargon the Magnificent, I have done my research and now have some shocking news to share with inquiring minds. It is up to the accused to disprove these most truthful allegations.

Let us begin with Mitch who will soon be dethroned if the latest opinion polls are to be trusted and I have no reason to doubt them as I am the favoured candidate in each and every one. The Mayor has clearly been having sex with his constituents. If you doubt it, just look at your raising property tax bills and the latest edition of the National Enquirer. Mitch also eats more than he admits is in his lunch bag. The little Danish Girl's cats have been missing for well over a month, as are many of the neighbour's feline friends. The National Enquirer has footage of Mitch with fur on his lips. That cardigan he has been wearing is covered with cat hair as is his private bulletproof float that he uses to move around Mitchieville.

Fenris Badwulf is a ruthless telemarketer and obviously not to be trusted with your daughters, wives, pets and / or money. He is the type of man who will interrupt your dinner to ask for your credit card number. More chilling still, Sargon has produced conclusive proof that Fenris is the mastermind behind the Maple Leaf listeria outbreak. If you doubt this, you only need to recall what Fenris promises to do in a total state of war.

As for Todd, we don't know much about him because he lives in Australia. If you have ever rented an apartment from a landlord that lives in another city, then you know all there is to know about Todd. You pay your rent, but get a leaky, moldy living space in return.

Me, I am squeaky clean. My boots are polished, my long hair is combed and neatly tucked away, my kitchen is clean, and my agenda is on the table.

Vote for change you can trust in. Vote Lisa Foggy on October 14th. Change is just around the corner. I promise.

The Opposition

Election in Mitchieville, eh? I, Fenris Badwulf, come to you not to slag my opponents, but to praise them.


I have nothing but respect for what's his name, 'The Mayor'. Recently married, he was stricken with tragedy, rendering him incapable of pleasing women, in a heteronormative sense. This on top of not having hair. You have to admire his struggle to keep his dignity in public, let alone the challenge of incontenence. He forgets things, but never the names of his legitimate children.

Lisa has a personal sex slave called Yumm-Yumm. I celebrate the hard won freedom of women to have personal sex slaves. Infact, if you read my campaign literature, you will see (under Immigration) that I advocate that all citizens have personal sex slaves, along with inside house workers and outside field hands.

Who is this Todd guy? A close mutual friend tells me that he is considering dropping out of the race to run a franchise bed and breakfast in Thailand. A great loss to Mitchieville if this happens, Todd. But this shows what an astute business man he is, who puts the health and safety of his family first. And if he happens to take the next flight out to Bangkok (the tickets are in the manila envelope marked 'Lead or Silver' in the top right drawer of your dresser in your bedroom, Todd, along with $10,000 in cash) I can understand. Todd is a friend of labor, too. The driver waiting outside in the Lincoln Continental to take him to the airport is a member of the Canadian Auto Workers. The driver has a torpedo tattooed over his right eye, and a stainless steel bicuspid.


I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this. I care.

Election stuff

My opponents are creatures of the last century. Their political campaigns only exist in the short times that our collectivist masters have allowed for the strife and contention.

I am an army of one. I have recruited like minded individuals, who also were solitary partisans. We are a war economy. My opponents live in an age of muskets and pikes. My faction lives in the present, and prepares for future war.

Like the visionary Ellsworth Toohey * , hero of the Fountainhead * , my partisans have infiltrated all aspects of life in Mitchieville. We communicate to each other by secret signs, we speak to each other in parables. We seek to improve each others financial status, to the detriment of those with ability, of those who oppose us, or those who are neutral in this struggle. My ministry is filled with incompetents, hangers on, and buffoons; but these people have the golden quality of being loyal to the cause of Fenris Badwulf, Mayor of Mitchieville. My opponents still pad about with half measures and nibble at frozen dinners.

Lisa has a food taster; I have poison. The Mayor has a fast car; I have station wagons with gun men with automatic weapons. Todd lives far away; I have dispatched Sonjia DeSade to seduce him, as a latex clad blonde, brunette, and red head. Which is better? Whom do you wish to stand between you and those that irritate? You, the People of Mitchieville, will decide.

This is not a Total War. I count these people as friends. I usually come in last in these elections. But, when Total War comes, I will use Total War methods. In war, in defence of my homeland, of my countrymen, there is no weapon, no horror that will not be embraced. No soldier who does not torture the enemy for information is not doing his duty. No officer who does not lure the enemy into minefields, into pits of sharpened stakes, into areas filled with phosgene gas, is doing his duty. No general that does not ambush and massacre will remain a general long. The blood of my countrymen is sacred; those who defile my countries soil will die, quickly if they are blessed, and slowly if they are not. Prisoners are for forced labor, or for compost. Their rations are for the women and children whom we protect. I would rather feed my neighbours yapping poodles than an enemy.

This is an election. But when Total War comes, whom do you want to bring terror and famine to the enemy? And this same ruthless application of will and force I will apply, loyally, at the direction of the next Mayor of Mitchieville. To whatever problems this person directs me to do. I am a team player. I care.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this



click to enlarge; show your loyalty; makes a great desktop!

Friday Night Man Flesh

We've heard a lot about change from the other mayoral candidates this past week, especially from Mitch, the current dictator of Mitchieville. Mitch has been mayor for the past decade and yet the only change seen is higher taxes, more public art celebrating the Mayor's regime and a continued sexist imbalance, despite strong correctional gains thanks to the efforts of *BITCH*. The time for real change is finally upon us and tonight I would like to introduce you to some of my hardworking supporters. Enough of ad hominem arguments and false promises. The time for action is upon us.

The first consideration in any election that takes place in Mitchieville is security. Already, the tires on my humble campaign vehicle have been slashed - twice - a rock was throw through a window of my similarly humble abode, and one of my food tasters is dead. Once again, I have enlisted the services of my trusty bodyguard YY, also known as Yum Yum, to protect the precious hairs on my head. He never leaves my side. Indeed he shares my bed.

The enigmatic figure you see to the left is none other than Sargon the Magnificent. He is pictured here embarking on a reconnaissance mission. Armed with a photogenic memory, a bag of tea leaves and a pen and notebook, Sargon will investigate rumours that the Mayor is not actually Mitch but an impostor. On his journey, Sargon will confirm that Todd has never set foot in Mitchieville and hence not an eligible candidate for mayor and will also produce a bylaw that will prevent Fenris from naming Set the Snake God as his running mate.

Here we have Desmond. I have hired him to replace the deceased food taster. He brings a lot of experience to this position. Previously, he worked for Fenris Badwulf, but I've convinced him the fruits of my kitchen are more rewarding than a steady diet of prune mush and bran.

This finely dressed man is of course my running mate Reg Reginaldson. He's been out of town for a few days on important business related to our campaign. Watch your mail for details.

Here is a rare photo of my campaign manager Dmorris. Usually, Dmorris prefers to work his magic behind the scenes, but he was so excited to receive his new hummer that he consented to have his photo taken.

I'd like to take this opportunity to remind the fine folks of Mitchieville that change requires money and lots of it at that. Unlike the current Mayor, I do not dip into the public treasury to fund my campaign. While it is true that I have plenty of volunteers working with me to change the current regime, supplies, nourishment and photocopies are needed. Contact *BITCH* if you would like to donate or volunteer your time and resources to make Mitchieville a better place.

The Ticket

With all eyes on Mitchieville now that the election is officially official, the burning question is where has Lisa been? Unlike the other candidates who have been spending their time loudly throwing around insults and false allegations hoping to discredit the competition, I have been out on the streets actively gathering support for my campaign. It's time for change and I'm going to make change happen by changing the way things are done in Mitchieville.

To this end, I purchased, at Sargon's expense, a pair of boots appropriate to the campaign trail. Sargon is now out on a Reconnaissance mission and will report back soon.
I have decided upon a running mate. Have the other candidates announced their running mates? Of course not. The Mayor is too busy drinking whiskey while forging memos and Fenris is occupied with other people's money. As for Todd, he is not an eligible candidate for Mayor because he wasn't born in Mitchieville, and even if he were a contender, he hasn't named a running mate either because he is too busy blogging.

Without further ado, the Minister of Munitions, Reg Reginaldson, has accepted the offer to run as my deputy mayoral candidate. This upstanding father of two fine offspring has never been chased by National Enquirer reporters, though I might note Mitch was scandalously caught and filmed hiding in the washroom of the hotel where his mistress was staying. Reg also does not and has never subscribed to the Toronto Star, nor relied on the CBC for the news. It is true Reg and I have had our differences in the past, but principles and morals transcend petty differences. Sure, he can't cook, but I can. Food and weapons are a necessary condition for existence. Combine this with the oratory skills of my campaign manager dmorris along with the divinatory talents of Sargon the Magnificent and you have a winning team. Never will an election be desired again.

Vote Lisa Foggy for Mayor of Mitchieville. It's time for some serious change. Take back the night along with your money.

On the Campaign Trail

If it seems like the citizens of Mitchieville line up at the election booth frequently, well, you'd be right. But a chance to overthrow that Mayor who usurped me in the last election should be an occasion to riot in the streets.

Let us have a look at what the Mayor has done for you lately. Just this past weekend, he flew off to New Orleans, effectively ignoring the flooding in his own town that was caused by an explosion of an old watermain. He has raised taxes and increased the photocopy budget at city hall. He has banned smoking in public and private establishments. The roads are nearly as pothole ridden as those in London Ontario; apparently, new office furniture is more important than the alignment of your vehicle. He was filmed by the National Enquirer hiding in the washroom of the hotel where his mistress is staying.

I could go on at great length, but we all know it's time for the Mayor to go. The time has come to focus on the broken window fallacy.

The money that is taken from your pocket to fund the Mayor's pet projects is money you do not have to spend on yourself and your family. Let us get selfish here and look at the reality of the situation. The streets are crumbling, the garbage is piling, the collective farms are yielding little food, and the town square is a shrine to the current corrupt Mayor. The price of gas continues to rise along with the temperature. What has the Mayor done for you lately?

As I begin my campaign for Mayor of Mitchieville, complete with a pounding headache, I am pleased to announce my campaign manager is none other than the infinitely talented dmorris, a proven mathematician at election times. He is a force to be reckoned with and brings a lot of cash to my campaign. He gets a gas guzzling truck, free gasoline for a year, and food from my kitchen, and power in exchange for his support.

Other important announcements are coming soon. Stay tuned. I, Lisa, care about your hard earned cash more than Fenris and the soon to be former Mayor combined. I wear black leather fiscal boots.

Vote for Lisa Foggy on October 14th. Vote for change you can believe in. If you doubt it, you will be crushed.