A Very Tory Christmas Warning

Notice to all Employees:

Non-sectarian holiday time is once again upon us. In the past, we have lost workers to festive accidents, diseases, viruses, acts of God and job fairs. In order to maximize work output in the New Year and minimize collateral losses, we have prepared the following list to guide you through any time your manager may have APPROVED for you to be absent during this holiday season. Please print and distribute copies to your colleagues, family members and friends and post them around your house.

1. Every part of your workstation that has a lock should have a key that you can lock it up with at the end of the day. If you are missing any keys to your workstation please advise management immediately.

2. Do not put your mouth, dry OR salivating, directly upon any type of Christmas tree bulb or electrically-powered decorative device or insert any such implement into your rectal cavity. This could lead to debilitating lesions and/or electrical shock and death.

3. Please retrieve your dishes from the staff kitchen area by 5 p.m. today or they will be discarded.

4. Never put a live electric eel or holly bough in your pants. This could lead to debilitating lesions and/or electrical shock and death.

5. Do not leave your house at any time during the holidays, for any reason whatsoever. Leave your lights off 24 hours a day and make sure all windows are covered. Make sure your basement bunker is stocked with at least 3 months supply of powdered milk, dried protein powder and water. Also, keep at least 4 flares and a shotgun on hand. Old bed sheets make good bandages, and a hairdryer hooked up to a gas generator can heat a family of four for at least 12 hours during a power outage. Do not open the door for strangers, neighbours or relatives. Although they may come bearing gifts or sweets, they can not be trusted. If your children try to leave the bunker, beat them with your shot gun, and bandage their heads with the bed sheets.

**Should you die during your holiday, please be sure to leave detailed instructions for your next of kin, including changing your voice mail and Out Of Office e-mail message to reflect the fact that you have died.

Have a safe and productive holiday!

The Management

Harper's Hockey Hallucination

As if we needed further proof that Stevie Harpo was out of touch with reality and afflicted with the anti-common sense gene, he says this "I think the Leafs are really coming together as a franchise, I like the team this year, I think it's got no obvious weaknesses"*.

As we wrap up the 40th year anniversary of miserable, cupless Loaf history, I'll just say this to Harpie: Next spring, you'll be following the Leafs Nation right down to South Carolina, where the golfing is abundant, the soda pop flows like water and the people are much like the people you left behind in the West- back in Canada where you will once have had a job.

And don't fret Sad Stevie and you sick, misguided Loaf lovers: Down there they have CPAC and TSN as well, where you'll be able to catch all the playoff highlights and maybe even watch live as Prime Minister Dion salutes Les Habitantes as they hoist their 11th cup for the past 40 years and chart topping 25th cup overall!

Vives les tri-colores!!!

*OMNI Television interview quoted in the Toronto Star- article HERE.

Stockwell Day = Fucking Moron

Stockwell Day is a fucking moron. Hey, if every other blogger can write about it why can't I?

That's it -- show's over.

Nothing else to see here.

Put your greasy hands back in your pockets and surf on you rubber necked bastards.

(Who, did I mention, I love, by the way.)

Best Series of Yearly Bests Award

And now we've come to the part of the evening you've all been waiting for.
Can I have the envelope please?
(Sound of stiletto heels clicking across stage)
Why thank you Bambi (slap).
(High-pitched giggle) "Oooh k-Dough, you naughty bad boy."

Ahem.
Er, ladies and gentleman, this year's award for Best Short Blogging Series of Yearly Bests goes to....

Please help me by putting your hands together for the very lovely and talented...the guy who puts the real in Montreal...the original CC and Coke...the hottest tits and ass in la belle province...the one and only Billy Shears'...the king of poutine...the post master general...

ChuckerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrCanuck!

Romana King on CBC.ca

K-dos to my home girl Romana King on having the folks at CBC.ca publicize her "responsible living" ideas and excellent writing skills. Here's hoping she gets more of the same...

Check out Romana's latest article for CBC HERE or visit her most excellent blog HERE.

Just tell her K sent ya.

Mainstream Imitates Blogging

Maybe I've been living under a rock, but have you checked out the Globe and Mail online version lately? Notice anything different about their format? There are now comments links for every single article. If bloggers thought we were going to remain enigmatic guerilla journalists forever, look out -- you are about to become mainstreamed! Yes, the MSM is mowing your lawn kids.

This new comment capability is something I think will transform the nature of those dinosaurs of the broad sheet. The Globe has instantly taken on the look and feel of a blog with authority. The mainstream media has melted into the blogosphere here in a fascinating combination of mediums.

It looks like the good Globe people are doing this in earnest, but I can't help but wonder about new accountability issues that undoubtedly will come into play for them. They are de facto publishing unsolicited commentary from the general public, which includes, as others have found, nutcases, racists and a plethora of haters that no sensible human would want leaving dirty footprints on their sites. Trying to moderate these could seriously become an expensive, time consuming nightmare and bring up new questions about editorial control versus the free nature of public comments sections.

Just ask Pierre Bourque over at Bourque Newswatch, who tried allowing comments for a while earlier this year but had to abandon the practice after realizing that he could not effectively control the haters, ideologues and cheap spam trollers due to time constraints.

Sure, the Toronto Star and National Post have their resident bloggers. Actually, I'm not so impressed with the Star online these days as they seem to be going through a bit of a prolonged identity crisis. I mean, nice new look, but where is Zerb? Either way, in my opinion, the Star remains the leading mainstream online supplier of breaking news in Canada, owing to their consistent updates throughout the news day with wire stories and local scoops. They were innovators but they are increasingly lagging. But I digress.

If we could just get just one online Canadian paper to give us the whole nine yards, including resident bloggers, comments and trackback links from Technorati, like the Washington Post does to show what individual bloggers are writing about their articles, we would be making some serious progress. (To see how Technorati works, scroll down on the right side of my home page and click on Blogs That Link Here. The site crawls the web looking for your url and permalinks and let's you know who has linked to anything you've written.)

But alas, personal experience reminds me that technological change and bureaucratic process are often at odds with each other, so we will have to be patient and wait. That said, Canada's online papers have come a helluva long way since just last year baby...

Exciting times for giddy technophiles and communications peeps.

Burning in Helltario

I caught an Environment Canada weather dude on TV the other day responding to call-in questions about climate change and the reason why the country is currently experiencing a Bizarro December. Brollys are getting bent and shovels bowed in BC and AB, while Toronto and Ottawa are virtually baking in spring fever. As the calls rolled in, weather dude tried to explain to panicked shorts-wearing revelationists that the warmer weather is not signalling the fiery end of the world as we know it.

Listening to the questions it became apparent that public fear is palpable here right now. Ski hills in Ontario are already lamenting the effect no snow has had on operations. People are wondering if global warming has finally switched off the snow lever for good. Is Southern Ontario turning into the Hades that Westerners have always known lay under the thin surface of it's magma-encrusted reality?

Well, thank god for public servants. Mr. Enviro-Canada did a most excellent job explaining that what you see when you look outside is weather, not climate. l couldn't help but wonder, as I sipped a Margarita on my front porch in my bath robe this morning and listened to the song birds, if somewhere, off camera, Stockwell Day stood glaring at the man, holding cue cards as the federal messaging police trained laser-sighted rifles on weather dude's crotch as Rona slithered, writhed and danced behind him, all oiled up in a G-String in a taunting manner.

(Alright. I know what you are thinking: What does Rona have to do with the context of the vision? Absolutely nothing, apart from the fact that environment is her portfolio. I just like the Neo-kons Gone Wild aspect of the fantasy!) What was I saying?

Weather? Climate? I'm confused. Oh well, either way, it's damn good bike ridin' weather out here in Helltario!

Layton's Curse

Media reports say Tommy Douglas - the greatest Canadian of all time - was the subject of an ongoing RCMP file in the 1960s. They say he was, could have been, wanted to be or was at least curious about becoming a communist. While there really is nothing shocking about this revelation it does throw an ironic spotlight on the current leader of the modern version of the NDP.

Can you imagine the RCMP, CSIS or even another individual investigating Jack Layton for anything? I mean the guy is a squeaky clean, shiny cardboard cut out Osmond of a human being. And what information would any such investigation possibly garner?

Stakeout Report: JL, December 18, 2006
1. Jack awakens from restful sleep. Washes off 8 hour Egyptian mud mask and brushes glittering teeth that plaque is afraid of with bio-friendly tooth paste solution. Kisses Olivia and let's quivering little dog out (or is that the other way arou...nevermind).
2. Jack dresses in neatly-pressed pastel orange track suit and performs 2 hour rigourous physical exercise routine. Jack reads latest edition of Socialist Worker while on StairMaster, hooked up to a Vitamin B12 intravenous pump.
3. Jack enjoys breakfast of fresh fruit, berries of the world and Turkish yoghurt, while practicing messaging for the day. Olivia drills him from flash cards:
Q: Mr. Layton, what is your position on the possibility that the Bloc will use Afghanistan for its own political purposes in the New Year?
A: New Democrats are the other choice. We are not the guys in the middle or over there. We are the other guys. You want choice right? Well, we are a choice.

Ok. ok. I have to stop. I can't go one with this charade of a skit because the truth is that there is absolutely nothing controversial, scary or LEFT about Layton. Everybody loves Jack, in a weird it's-not-clear-whether-his-face-is-real kinda way. All I know is that the NDP had better find a compelling reason for the secret authorities to investigate them if they want to remain a party at all. Otherwise, the closing green and red walls on either side of them will squash them like bugs, only to be scraped off and tossed into the trash can of Canadian irrelevancy.

Greener Pastors

Ironic headline in the Toronto Star today reads: Federal Cabinet Shuffle Expected - New environment minister likely as Conservatives seek greener look. Shuffle? Call it what you want. I'd prefer to refer to it as the impending trashing at the polls, at which point every portfolio will be refilled with a much more intelligent human being. Well, maybe not every portfolio, but most.

As far as the "greener look" goes: I assure you Mr. Steve, the view from the opposition side of the House is as green (with envy) as it gets.

By the way Steve-o, if you are looking for a place to hide Rona why don't you shuffle her off to K-Dough's hood? I promise I'll take care of her (mwahahaha). My homies and I could make a few simple tweaks, sexify and modify that clearly misguided woman and turn her into the next, but stronger and more powerful, Belinda!

Kyoto, shmyoto; look out Toronto!

Political Cannon Fodder

Yesterday, the Bloc and Harper played a game of political chicken over supporting "the troops" versus suppporting "the war" (READ). It's the same bullshit game of spin that is played over and over in the U.S. between the Republicans and Democrats. It is designed to manipulate the emotions of the electorate. No one wants to be seen as not supporting "the troops". No, that would be...what? Principled?

Why doesn't anyone say what they really think? What half-intelligent, sane adult supports troops but not a war? Supporting troops that you knowingly send into pointless dangerous missions is not "supporting troops": It's supporting putting other people's lives in jeopardy for your own selfish ideology or idealism. You will never be able to support "the troops" unless you are out there taking a bullet in your gut for them or are tenderly holding their heads as they gurgle and choke to death on their own blood.

Give up the charade you straw men. You are politicians, they are walking lead slug targets. Sitting on your fat asses in Ottawa lecturing about supporting our boys 'n girls will never be good enough. You are making the decisions and they are dying. Granted, that's their job. But the troops are dying because of your decisions. You might as well be holding the smoking guns that kill them.

That's the real deal, you cowardly insects. Stop mind-fucking stupid Canadians with spineless spin. Be real men and say what you really think, if you have any remnant of pride or conscience.

Supporting troops- PFFFFT. How about supporting life?

Laughing Stockwell Day...

...fucks up again (READ). The best thing is he actually put in print his utter ignorance of and insensitivity to foreign affairs. Day published a factually barren column, completely misstating the political, historical and social situation of Mexico- a country he just visited as a representative of the government and people of Canada. What's more, he spelled the name of the Mexican president, whose inauguration he recently attended, incorrectly.

In Day's defense, his briefing before the trip consisted of this:


I can't wait until jackass-brained, beef-jerkey chewin' droolin' goobers like Day are once again banished to the backwoods of Shit-Fuck, B.C., where they can breed, read their bibles and shoot their guns with relatively low risk to the rest of civilized society.

Sundaze With the Ks

There is really no news worthy of my critique, criticism or mocking obscenity today. It's getting close to X day and all the big mouthed spin dudes are keeping things quiet in hopes that they will be off for as many days as possible during X period.

Like any of you care, here is K-Dough's typical Sunday reality- recounted and itemized:

1. Woke up, read headlines, kissed runny-nosed toddler.
2. Chatted with child, girlfriend-for-life and best friend over earthy espresso and uitsmijter.
3. Drove with best friend to purchase food stuffs: Sustainance assured for coming week.
4. Put sickly child to sweet nappies in womb-like comfy crib with multiple blankies and essential oil wafting from humidifier. Baby spa. Mmmm.
5. Girlfriend-for-life visited fancy South American gay hairdresser to talk about sordid life details of a drag queen and spend exorbidant amounts of cash on great flipped back late 70s Farrah-do. Nice.
6. Wrote a cool roots rock kinda song.
7. Had a glass of Belgium's finest.
8. Traditional Sunday head shaving, followed by steaming hot, extended shower and wanton abuse of girly Aveda bath products to a soundtrack of Galaxie Ambient.
9. Assembled naked, dusty Hypocrismas Tree.
10. Enjoyed more Euro-potent beerful goodness as li'l Kay-Dough decorated tree, broke priceless sentimental heirloom and excitedly freaked out in front of glittery, bulb-straffed needly icon, while repeatedly reciting partial red-nose reindeer lyrics. Sweet.
11. Fired up the stainless steel behemoth BBQ and grilled up some turkey burgers. Covered with hastily whipped-up Morrocan charmoula and old, tangy white cheddar. Mmm.
12. Drank more.
13. Convalesced in festive familial narcossis in front of Finding Nemo with best friend, girlfriend-for-life and child, nestled in warm, cradling sofa arms.

With all the complex thinking, success-seeking, pontificating and immortality chasing, there really is nothing better than that kind of Sunday.

Merry Consumerist Orgy!

Let me preface this inevitable searching for the higher meaning of Christmas post by saying that I am not a Christian. At best, my faith system is based on a hypocritical melange of Buddhism, asceticism, hedonism, bushido and the balanced employ of controlled, and sometimes illicit, substances. But recently, the realization that my daughter is old enough to get the Santa thing has cross-checked me from behind into a bloody uncomfortable philosophical corner.

I probably grew up like most of you: Each December, I would spend hours feverishly scanning the Consumers Distributing catalogue for what I wanted for Christmas. I'd carefully circle the things I yearned for, along with the things I thought I had a reasonable shot at actually receiving. On Christmas morning though, I would be absolutely thrilled with whatever I got, because, even though I came from a struggling one-parent family, my Mother would always sacrifice enough to make sure we had something we loved.

Over the past 10 years though, I have become overcome by cynicism about the disgusting consumerist orgy that occurs from September onward. In fact, I despise it. It violates serious intellectual and spiritual principles that I hold sacrosanct in my head and heart. Not to mention the trifling fact that there is absolutely no religious reason for me to celebrate the holiday. Of course, we still put up a tree and decorations, which makes absolutely no logical sense, except that I guess it fills some traditional gap that would be empty if we didn't. I mean, I love the pretty glittery things, but Jesus ain't exactly my homeboy. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

Enter Li'l Miss Kay-Dough. I don't know what to do with her. She had already been exposed to images of Santa through our broader culture before I even had a chance to formulate some plan of dealing with my own confusing X-Mas hypocrisy. Santa is already a cultural legend to her. I'm not stupid. I know she will grow up expecting luxuries to be bestowed upon her like every other kid. And I really don't want to deny her that childish wonderment because of my own heady, abstract beliefs. Thus, my brain is becoming cobwebbed with heart strings.

I look around me and wonder "when did conspicuous, unsustainable consumption become a suitable substitute for compassion and love?" What the fuck is wrong with us? Why do people contract out caregiving for their kids, just to work all year to buy them Playstations as proof of love? Not to mention the fact that people stress themselves out to a ridiculous point at Christmas. People dread driving all over the place; they dread placating demands for their time put on them by increasingly complex and divided families- thanks to the miracle of divorce; they dread shopping before and the drowning tide of bills after Christmas. I just don't get it. Hey- it just occurred to me: Maybe it's the people I don't like, not Christmas.

Anyway, back to Li'l Miss Kay-Dough. As she grows up, she will be distracted by superficial shiny things too. She will be fallible, greedy, self-centred and fuck people around like we all do. I guess all I can do in the mean time is resolve to make sure that I teach her right and wrong and instil a sense of the true meaning of family, friends and love. In the end, if all we have is breaking bread, drinking, laughing and caring we have all we need. Actually, that is what I teach her every day. Why should Christmas be any different?

Canada Upholds Gay Rights

175 MPs stood up and supported gay and human rights in Canada today. Huge kudos are in order for John Baird, Peter Mackay, Jim Prentice and David Emerson. You should be proud of yourselves today for voting against Stephen Harper's cynical attempt to tear people apart in Canada and trod on the established charter rights of our sisters and brothers.

The following MPs should be ashamed of letting their religious beliefs, intolerance, political aims or mean-spiritedness obscure their respect for the human rights of Canadians:

Liberals unworthy of the title: Jim Karygiannis, Derek Lee, Mr. Byrne. Mr. Wappel. Monsieur Bonier. Mr. Mcteague. Mr. Cullen. Mr. Mackay. Mr. Malley. Mr. Steckle. Mr. Tonks. Mr. Khan. Mr. Scarpaleggia.

Conservatives: Mr. O'Connor. Mr. Toews. Mr. Day. Mr. Flaherty. Mr. Clement. Mr. Strahl. Mr. Solberg. Mr. Hearn. Mrs. Hinton. Mr. Bernourge, Mr. Blackburn. Mr. Camp. Mr. Benoit. Mr. Breitkreuz. Mr. Hanger. Mr. Harris, Mr. Mills, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Williams. Mr. Anders, Mr. Casson. Mr. Mackenzie. Mr. Hebert. Mr. Kenney. Mr. Reid. Mr. Lauzon. Mrs. Yellich. Mr. Warawa. Mr. Doyle. Mr. Ritz. Mr. Fitzpatrick. Mr. Goldring. Mr. Albrecht. Mr. Allan. Mr. Lunny. Mr. Mark. Mr. Merrifield. Mr. Ragotte. Mr. Sorenson. Mr. Vellacott. Mr. Schellenberger. Mr. Alison. Mr. Batters. Mr. Bazan. Mr. Jaffer. Mr. Brown. Mr. Hawn. Mr. Lake. Monsieur Lemieux. Mr. Pallister. Mr. Epp. Mr. Mayes. Monsieur Pettite. Mr. Sweet. Mr. Van Kesteran. Mr. Wallace. etc...

A Vote Against Tolerance

Today, some elected representatives in our national parliament will be voting to say "While gays and lesbians currently enjoy the same rights and freedoms as all of us normal people, we think some of those rights should be revoked". Well, hell, while we are at it why don't we vote to revoke women's right to vote? Why don't vote to send 10 year olds into factories to fill the gap in supply of cheap manufacturing workers and maximize profits? In fact, why don't we just solve this problem at its root and vote to make Christianity our offical religion?

If Christianity were our official religion, then maybe we could all forget about these troubling, complex laws and live by the wonderful fairy tale lessons of the bible. It'd be great. We could all get married, have kids and go to church. And when our kids were old enough, we could send them off to other countries to maim and kill people who aren't Christians, because, hey, let's face it: God loves that shit. On the weekends, we could roast marshmallows over burning witches (i.e. university educated women) and covet our neighbours asses! Oops, wait that's a no no. I forgot that anything with the word ass in it is bad.

Turbans? Burkas? Sikh daggers? Male sarongs on Church Street? They'd all be banned. But all the barbarians would be compensated with free Jesus is My Homeboy shirts paid for by your tax dollars!

Look, Stephen Harper would have Canadians believe that he is doing this out of principle, but it is nothing more than cynical window-dressing for the ugly truth: He is trying to appease a portion of his constituency that is bitter and intolerant. And he is counting on ahandful of bitter, intolerant Liberal caucus members to help him. The only lynching these draconian fucking goobers will see - Liberal and neo-con alike- will be their own political lynching at the hands of their own defeat today.

Trample on others rights in your own backyards you insensitive assholes, but leave the established charter rights of citizens as valuable as your own children alone. Mark my words kiddies, Harper will burn at the polls for this.

UPDATE: I'm reposting this one today as well sexies. Vote is today. Harper and his cabinet ministers didn't even bother to stick around for the debate last night. It's that important to those hit 'n run social policy trolls.

Inkless Hells

I realize I'm a little late to the oiled up all-boy cell party on this one but it begged frothing comment. The Harpies are shutting down a pilot project that provided safe tattooing for inmates at 6 in-prison ink parlours. Any fool knows that needles and bloody procedures performed on the dermis can spread many conditions and/or diseases, the most deadly of which are AIDS and Hepatitis.

Harpie and his band of blue balled moralistic monkeys would rather sacrifice lives for a few political points with a handful of fearful Sunday School teachers in Alberta who think tattoos are the mark of Satan, but think it's mucho excellente to give a truck load of guns to a bunch of scared kids in a hostile foreign land to kill other scared kids. But hey, that's better than "spend(ing) taxpayers' money on providing tattoos for convicted criminals," says pasty white toast laughing-Stock-well Day.

This is one instance where the pen may indeed be deadlier than sword. Thousand of dirty cons (not the neo type) will be reverting to the age old technique of using unsterilized, rusty safety pins taped to old chewed-up pen shafts with black ink to practice their in-the-joint art. Yes, in the joint; where incidentally a lot of joints end up in, if you catch my drift.

Of course, once their sentences are served, many of those human graffiti walls will move back out into society to spread AIDS and other communicable diseases to their unsuspecting girlfriends and victims. Yeah, and that won't cost us hardworking taxpayers anything, right?

Baird Scared?

John Baird was already out there swinging at the scary shadows today on CBC NewsWorld. Yep, he got his Roger Ramjetesque mug in front of a camera as soon as he could today, slamming Dion on both policy and character. Baird's premature electioneering seems a prophecy of things to come, sooner than later, don't ya think?

Who knew that such a quiet man could inspire such panicky large-mouthed blathering...

The Kennedy-Dion Moment

I don't know if anyone caught this, but it was a moment of heavy symbolism for me. At the second that Dion's winning vote count was revealed on the fourth ballot Saturday, his hand immediately went up in the air. Since he was huddled close beside Dion, Kennedy turned to see the hand going up and thought he was being high-fived. Up went his hand to reciprocate, only to realize Dion was passing him over to turn and wave at the delegates who put him at the top.

Why was this pathetic, slow-motion, Hollywood style moment symbolic? Because hopefully it foreshadowed a new reality, where Dion will play no favourites with other politicians and create further division within that already torn-aparty. And though he may have felt like Dion's little brother on the first day of high school at that moment, I imagine that point was not lost on Gerrard either.

Welcome to Day One of your undoing Harpies!

The State of Political Blogging

With the onslaught of posts from all the convention crazy Lib blah-blah-blahggers currently posting pictures of Liberal thongs and wetting their red trousers over seeing Ken Dryden up close, I started to think about the state of political blogging these days. I mean, the medium is pretty damn healthy in terms of volume - the pile of political posts being spewed out increases daily. New names ceaselessly appear on blog rolls like Progressive Bloggers and various shamelessly partisan groups. And although quantity is not a parameter that indicates the value of a creative medium, it does say something about utility. Utility is in the eye of the beholder and though personally I find minute by minute accounts of political gatherings useless, tedious and annoying even, others may find them useful, nay, even entertaining (see note below).

But enough about them, let's talk about me. I'm a veteran of the scene already and K-Dough's hasn't even reached it's one year blogiversary yet. That is a conspicuous clue about the nature of the blogging medium: it's instantaneous, like an ethereal digital nervous system in which organisms are born, live and die by the minute. I want to call it a kind of throwaway culture, but it's more than that. It's true that you're only as good as your last post, and daily the fruits of your labour disappear into the murky depths of archival obscurity. But at least all those words are still there available for retrieval and posterity. I can't imagine what would happen if, for instance, blogspot experienced a catastrophic data loss. Gasp.

A year ago, it was pretty much unheard of for bloggers to be considered sources for news or commentary. Now, it's becoming common-place to see the likes of Cherniak on national TV commenting on the Liberal convention. Just yesterday, CBC Radio asked me to do an interview on the nation within a nation debate and I've also been covered in the Ottawa Citizen. My friend Harding Young over at T.O. Crime just celebrated his 50,000th hit and has appeared on national radio and TV for one reason- he authors successful blogs. ChuckerCanuck has one of the most thriving comments sections on the InterWeb where regulars and others debate and argue in detail daily.

Actually, it's become a virtual water cooler or bar counter over at Chucker's place and that seems to me to be one of the fundamental virtues of the medium at this point. The medium and the relative anonymity it provides encourages debate and the expression of diverse views. Of course, the vast sea of blogging is also polluted by the countless flotsam of mindless partisanship and plagiarism. I guess, as with all forms of cultural expression, it's incumbent upon the consumer to mow down the idiot weeds and dig out the gems.

So, where does K-Dough fit into this big picture? Well, hopefuly I provide hope for those who aren't hopelessly partisan that you can write without a tendentious slant or a panting, slobbering sophomoronic love for one party or personality. Well, ok, I may be guilty of a slight degree of Mitsou worship (HERE and HERE) , but I assure you that my anaphylactic allergy to many right wing policies is a reality of my physiology and nothing more. Hey, if you can't eat (or agree with) nuts because they'll kill you, you just don't eat them.

I would like to thank all my readers for coming to my daily sexified word parties. It's a serious honour that you allow me to exploit you all in my quest for blog stardom. I don't know where this medium is going, but hopefully you'll all get on board the K-Train and help to thin the muddy soup out there in the blog kitchen by skimming the scum off the top any chance you get. Now get back out there and fight stupid at all costs!

*Note: Over the last year, I have published several frustrated rants against blogging polidiots, with what I think was some pretty clever, if not obscene invective. You can check out some of my finer foul-mouthed blog bashing HERE, HERE and HERE . The well of my frustration used to be kept full by the fact that I tried to get guys like Cherniak and Kinsella to be critical of their own arguments and at least debate with detractors in a spirit of critical analysis. Duhh, thank god I stopped that pointless exercise. I've learned that there's really no room for idealism in this jackass eat jackass digital jungle. Even Joanne the sweet seems to have realized that! And who woulda thought we'd see our little girl grow up right here online.

Ah, the special wonders of the mysterious InterWeb.