Coolopolis

   My usual massive amounts of testosterone were running a bit short today
and I couldn't figure it out until I realized I was hauling around a couple of dozen fifty dollar bills in my pocket and it must've been radiating into my body. A coupla years ago Canada dumped the Newfie Firing Square (the circle of RCMP horsemen) and replaced it with the ballbustin' racist be-atches known as the Famous Five, along with Therese Casgrain, the token Quebecois feminist who started henpecking us beleaguered men in the 1920s. The famous five got that way by fighting for the right to serve in the Senate. Yeah, serve in the Senate. The job that has been referred to as "having died and gone to heaven." You just show up and munch peanuts once in a while and get a huge cheque. The worst of the bunch is Judge Emily Murphy (she's the one with the signed picture. She wrote a book linking immigrants to drug dealing in Canada called The Black Candle in which she describes hashish as causing, "a mild, short attack of excitement to a prolonged attack of furious mania, ending in exhaustion or even death."

She adds: "Many Negroes are law-aiding and altogether estimable, but contrariwise, many are obstinately wicked persons, earning their livelihood as freeranging pedlars (sic) of poisonous drugs." Chinese people as "black-haired beasts in our human jungle" and "hundreds of (white) girls living with Chinamen" and black men who "boast how ultimately they will control the white man." The other Famous five are Louise McKinney, Nellie McClung, Irene Parlby and Henrietta Muir Edwards, who was from Montreal.

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Set your VCRs to 10 am or 7 15 pm on Monday December 18 to see the 1995 Toronto film Soul Survivor which manages to be fascinatingly awful in spite of having some impressive talent. The director Stephen Williams hires his pretty boy brother Peter Williams to star to act as a normal guy trying to get ahead and gets hired by the baddie, who doesn't seem particularly bad (played by the Ben Johnson lookalike George Harris who impresses in Layer Cake). Reuben, the dreamy Jamaican cousin manages to be the worst acted and worst written character I've ever seen in a movie. It's clear that he's going to die from the start. What's this got to do with Montreal you ask? Tyrone Benskin, the highly-able head of our city's Black Theatre Workshop gets a bit part playing a feisty janitor who constantly harasses the star. He must've really needed the cash back then.