Archive for December, 2010

A guide to doing business in a foreign despotism

Friday, December 31st, 2010

2011 is on our doorstep and with it absolutely no certainty of a return to economic prosperity. How does one make it big in a shaky economy? Get a nice route with the post office? (“Pension, baby, pension!”) What if you want to accumulate more toys than that can provide? And you’re also largely incompetent, as most everyone is? Well, in years past we’d have suggested an internet start-up or mortgage bond syndication but, alas, the world has changed. Succeeding-in-business-without-really-trying no longer revolves around these and other trusted entrepreneurial pursuits such as the importation of high grade cocaine within the diplomatic pouches of relatives, ponzi schemes or using the GICs Grandma left you to bankroll shoddy retirement developments. No, today is the world of “Globalization” and this means that those seeking to make their fortune must look to EAFE, BRIC or some other marketing acronym denoting countries other than Canada and the US. Yes, today mauwney, weemen, and powurr are most easily attained on foreign shores. Below are the stepping stones to success which you must cast at your nearest competitor’s head in order to make it in today’s global economy. Feel free to buy a one way ticket to China or some other repressive quasi-commie, pseudo-capitalist totalitarian sh*thole and try your hand!

1. Acquire financing from easily fooled private equity firm or sovereign wealth fund. Perhaps from the geniuses who named their firm after a vicious mythological dog and bought up-and-coming “Chrysler.” Assure them that a 40% ROC is available in Whereveristan with “robust NPV implications.” They won’t risk asking questions lest they seem ignorant. Leverage the project to the hilt.

2. Contact local party boss. Commend him on repression of counter-revolutionary dissidents in his district as well as his stylish Savile Row suit. Inform him that you plan to begin groundbreaking of a people’s factory for premium car-cleaning shammies. The factory will be named in tribute to the glorious personage currently providing leadership to the nation (whichever thug is currently in charge of the regime). Bribe him regularly but judiciously since he will be executed for incompetence and corruption and replaced by an equally incompetent and corrupt person approximately every 3 years.

3. Excess raw materials and effluent are to be deposited in the community’s water supply. These costs can be passed on to the local resident, unlike that which occurs in overly-regulated Canada, with its environmental alarmism, “socialist” agenda and constant setting of obstacles in the path of the hard-working entrepreneur.

4. Set an hourly salary that just approaches a living wage to ensure your workers are motivated and literally hungry for extra hours. A lack of local job opportunities, a low level of sexual education and a governmental prohibition on travel means that – to your benefit – there is constant “slack” in the labor force.

5. Note bene: patent laws do not apply here. Appropriate the intellectual property of another in order to turn out a shammie that will certainly appeal to consumers in design…since it already does.

6. Notify regional Wal-Mart expatriate/warlord that you have new crap for his retail borg to hawk back in North America. Slash your asking price by 30% in the first five minutes before he threatens to take your factory and your thumbs. If he goes extra mafioso on you, simply further reduce the quality of your inputs.

7. Photograph your least-emaciated worker pretending to read a book and highlight him or her as a typical success story in your firm’s altruistic “Care to Share” campaign, which allegedly reinvests a portion of earnings to develop the human capital of your workers. Your customers’ hearts will be warmed by these images as they buy your premium car shammies for use on their Escalades.

Don’t forget us come Christmas thyme! FYI, our favorite Jet Ski color is blue.

Santa files for bankruptcy

Thursday, December 30th, 2010

The end of the 2010 Christmas season was marred by the unfortunate filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy yesterday by one Kristopher Kringle, better known as Santa Claus. Said the rotund septuagenarian with a penchant for putting children on his lap: “Those goddamn elves choked me to death with their f*cking contract. I signed that thing in 1953 for Christ’s sake! Things were better back then!” Members of the UEW or United Elfin Workers union had been at odds with management (Santa & Mrs. Claus) for many years, likening their role in the shop to indentured servitude. Their chief grievance is the vanishing of their 401(k) during the market 2008 – 9 downturn. Invested entirely in highly-risky “Penguin Futures,” Santa had since been promising that their pensions would be restored, but the elves finally enough yesterday and staged a walkout, forcing Santa to suspend operations for 2011. After lenders-of-last-resort failed to appear in the way of the Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny, Santa declared bankruptcy. Santa cited many decades of reduced demand for domestic wooden toy products on the part of his 4 – 12 year old customer base in favor of electronic imports from overseas, most notably Japan.

“Have you ever tried to build an Xbox with a freakin’ hammer and some wood!?” said an exasperated and clearly drunk Santa, “What ever happened to dolls and riding ponies? God, I hate children these days. Mrs. Claus’s birth complications in ’72 now seem like a blessing to me.”

Santa’s operation has never actually been solvent, generating 0 earnings over roughly 300 years. Prospective lenders that might have saved the day were turned off by his pricing model. Citibank’s syndicated loans department was Santa’s best bet, but his PowerPoint presentation failed to convince them that lending would increase their likelihood of getting into Heaven.

“Is he a Christian Saint? A Coca-Cola schill? Some well-meaning nutjob? You tell me,” said one banker.

Santa reportedly plans to move to Boca Raton, and sit in the sun each day, asleep with an un-started Dean Koontz novel. His Jewish counterpart, Saul Hanukkahberg, already has a time share in the complex, so Santa will have someone to play golf and hit the early bird specials with.

“Santa got a great unit. View. Walk-in. Budet. Really terrific,” said Saul.

Most of the elves have already found employment at King Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz’s Royal Palace in Saudi Arabia as miniature butlers and court jesters.

Santa’s magical North Pole workshop will not sit dormant though. It has been purchased by hotel magnate Andre Balazs for redevelopment into an arctic resort for the idle rich.

The frozen getaway will be known as Chateau Santont, North Beach.

“Pre-book now for great discounts,” said some attractive young thing from Andre’s office.

Man gets stylish haircut at barber shop

Wednesday, December 29th, 2010

Your local barber shop. A place of refuge from a changing world. Want something to read while you get your cut? We’ve got a two day old copy of The Sun as well as seven copies from 1998. Oh, and pornography. Penthouse, to be exact. More muff shots than Playboy yet still alongside plenty of classy articles. Take in some trim with your trim, palie. Oh, never been sexually excited while a 74 year old Italian man cuts your hair with rusty scissors? Then you’ve never lived, baby. Indeed, this is a man’s place. Feel free to linger for three to four hours after your cut to discuss the Leafs defensive game in exhaustive detail. And it’s also a place where you can still appreciate the dependable, chill-blocking insulation that only asbestos can provide. Go ahead, take a deep breath. Veal parmesan and asbestos. Yes, life doesn’t get any better than this. Sure, you can get a happy ending in the backroom of a real, quality Magicuts, but will they shave your face for ya? With a straight razor? Thought not. Buttery smooth cheeks that’d make a newborn’s ass feel like sandpaper. Nothin’ beats it. And, sure, you can walk out of a Toni & Guy looking like a fatter, less attractive version of Zac Efron – complete with frosted tips – but will they do your nose hairs for no extra charge? How ’bout a Velvet Divorce for the ol’ unibrow? Guess again, friend. They won’t.

Indeed, the only thing that you can’t get at a barber shop is an in-style haircut.* They’ve only got two styles: mob boss or Nazi feldwebel. The former is your classic go-to cut, a nice clean part down the middle, and tightly contained sides and back. Want a fade? We don’t know what that is. Thinning shears? Go back to Albuquerque, pinko. The latter style is for the more young at heart. It comprises a part along the far left or right of one’s head, with a sort of huge, clean sweep over to the other side. For the really “young at heart” – i.e. those who are old as f*ck – this one is particularly choice because it covers your bald spot. Don’t bother asking for anything else. Really, don’t bother asking: Vincenzo barely speaks english.

“Thanks for the longest preamble ever, pal, where’s the news in all this?” OK, capitan – the news is that someone actually got a stylish haircut at a barber shop! Yes, John Geithner of Brampton, Ontario walked out of Sal’s Barber Shop on Main with a cool haircut, complete with intentional bed head and molding clay!

Said Geithner, “So I’m lost in a gorgeous spread in a November ’93 Penthouse as soon as I sit down, and about two-thirds of a California red wood later I glance up and ‘boom,’ there it is! I don’t look like Carmine “Junior” Persico for once! I couldn’t believe it!!”

It fast emerged that Sal’s 17 year old son, Vito, an outlandish young lad who adores avant-garde Milan hair styling almost as much as he does Sex & The City cut Geithner’s hair rather than Sal himself.

“It was then that I heard somebody cooing the word ‘Fierccce’ in my ear when I noticed Sal was still asleep over by the register. That’s when I saw his kid had done the cut,” added Geithner.

Vito plans to take interpretive dance next Fall, leaving Sal to soldier on without an heir to the chair, so it looks like the world still makes sense after-all.

You can get a straight-razor shave at a barber shop or a cool cut elsewhere, but never both at once.
*defined as a haircut that might actually help you get laid, however marginal its assistive power.

Santa Converts to Islam, Christmas Canceled

Tuesday, December 28th, 2010

It’s official: Christmas will not be on tomorrow. The reason? Santa Claus has reportedly converted to Islam. Yes, after a lot of soul searching – with Tea for the Tillerman on in the background – our morbidly obese friend with the fantastic beard has decided to hang up his red and green spurs. Elf insiders close to Santa have told us that he plans to change his name to “Malcolm X Mas” and move to a distant, arid hellscape far from the North Pole to begin a new life dedicated to Qu’ranic study and ferocious sexism. While largely an invention of the Coca-Cola company and having far more to do with consumerism than Christianity, Santa has nonetheless been near and dear to our hearts for over a century. Asked as to what prompted this shocking life change, Santa – no longer clad in red but in a ragged prayer smock complete with skull cap – replied,

“There is only one god Allah and Mohamed is his messenger!”

A correspondent from Nickolodeon News asked Santa if the stress of delivering ever more gifts every season had finally gotten to him, to which Santa, stroking his now darkly-dyed beard, answered,

“There is no god but Allah, the Ever Living, the Eternal One!“

Another correspondent asked Santa what Mrs. Claus felt about his decision, to which the Old, Ole’ St. Nick replied,

“There is no god except Allah; Muhammad is Messenger of Allah!”

The fat man formerly known as Santa then made a bizarre and largely unintelligible statement expressing his zeal for the apparently-imminent demise of “the Israeli Zionist pigs,” got onto his sleigh and disappeared toward the Middle East.

Mrs. Claus was found stoned to death in the Claus North Pole home shortly thereafter.

From the scene, it appears she had begun to dance to “Jingle Bell Rock” in the Claus living room in short pants.

Stupid Flockers Elevate Worst Movie of 2010 to #1

Tuesday, December 28th, 2010

In the words of the Good Book*, “Pity these flockers. They know not what they do.” Yes, by this excerpt of His Word**, we mean the many flockers to Little Fockers, those who laid down good money in droves to make the movie open at #1 this past weekend. Third in the “Focker franchise,” Little Fockers is the youngest sibling of Meet the Fockers (2004) and Meet the Parents (2000). The original movie was a surprise Christmas hit at the theater in 2000 – and a mega-hit on the DVD rental shelf – because it was a well-crafted and authentically funny comedy. Watching Stiller’s nerdy character get stuck in ever-more difficult, comic situations as he tries to win over his girlfriend’s retired-CIA spy father, played by Robert De Niro, was truly entertaining. Sadly, so beloved was Meet the Parents that not one fan doubted that the studio would capitalize on Parents’ cherished status and eventually dump out a steaming, unfunny sequel.

And indeed they did four years later with Meet the Fockers.

Albeit, one has to admit that Dustin Hoffman and, to a far lesser degree, Barbara Streisand as free-thinking, hippy parents contrasting with the authoritarian De Niro held some comedic value. Says De Niro, observing Stiller’s childhood things, “I didn’t know they made ribbons for 8th place.” OK. Kinda funny. If Meet the Parents was worthy of seeing in the theater, then its contrived sequel Meet the Fockers had at least enough momentum from the original to warrant a renting at Blockbuster.

So how about the third iteration? If the original was a great comedy at 9/10, the sequel a half-baked legacy-play at 6/10, than this thing is reheated SPAM at 3/10. Theater-worthy original…rental-worthy sequel…this triquel? Barely airplane worthy. That is, “I have four more hours until I land in Tokyo, I’ve finished my book, already napped, and even watched Bon Cop, Bad Cop in Canadian Content. OK, Fockers III it is.”

Interestingly, Meet the Parents was a big budget remake of a 1992 independent*** film of same-name, the witty dialogue and plot turns of which were only enhanced by a professional Hollywood script doctor. Hence its legitimate funniness. However, the film ends with the central conflict between Stiller and De Niro resolved and little in the way of loose ends to seed a sequel. Hence the necessary invention of Stiller’s parents in Meet the Fockers. In the sequel, seeing De Niro act silly and claim to have “got a little Focker in him” was just irritating and ran counter to the essence of his original character. Moreover, resurrecting the tension between De Niro and Stiller that was supposed to have been resolved at the close of Meet the Parents came off as lame and unconvincing. Nonetheless, our fond memories of the characters brought most of us back to the theater or rental shelf.

Here’s your final clue to avoid Little Fockers. While the second movie did a halfway-decent job in the face of plotless adversity with the invention of Stiller’s loopy hippy parents, this third one is left with nothing but Stiller and wife’s kids to focus on. Yep, Little Fockers as in little kids. Toddlers throwing up. Etc.

Of course, they also trotted out Jessica Alba as some kind of (supremely unlikely) would-be home-wrecker to throw herself at Stiller.

PG-13 semi-unclothed Alba. OK, maybe it is worth $12 on a snowy day.


* The Firm

**John Grisham.

***read: “Shot on Handycam for $1200.”

iPad Expected to be Best-Selling Worst Gift this Christmas

Thursday, December 23rd, 2010

“What’s this? A cutting board!? Excellent, I nee- oh. I see. It’s, a…uh, a diminutive laptop, or…uh, or an over-sized cell phone. Thanks hun’…” The iPad. It is expected to be the best-selling worst gift of 2011. Is there a toy that better represents society’s current fascination with technological gadgetry? So needless and impractical that the only true usefulness it offers is a few minutes of distraction from the existential banality of one’s life? According to marketing theory, the iPad is actually a logical evolution in Apple’s model lineup. Indeed, faced with the overwhelming success of its iPod – a product category Sony should have dominated – its iPhone – a product category Motorola should have dominated – and even its iTop, er, MacBookPros (laptops) – a product category IBM should have dominated, Apple had no product categories left to conquer. They were close to kicking the sh*t out of TomTom but the attachable GPS market is being continually shrunk by car makers putting’em right in the dash so the dollars weren’t quite there. Besides, there’s an iPad “app” for that too. With no worthy contenders in new areas to take on, Marketing 101 dictates that the giant usually stumbles by “innovating” a theretofore-unheard-of category – and that category’s first product.

Witness the iPad.

At first glance it seems to be a rival for Amazon’s “Kindle,” the electronic book-reading hand-held, or Barnes & Nobles’ same-same “Nook.”* However, even those makers have wisely avoided going the way of Sony Betamax and not-sharing-themselves-into-obscurity and have made Kindle and Nook apps for the iPad. Besides, it has more computing power than those e-readers. Closer to a laptop. “Oh wow, can I play Call of Duty: Black Ops on it? Or do some of that 21C bohemian graphical crap Apple is suppose to be optimal for??” Well, no. You can look at porn, but, no, it’s not quite a full fledged laptop or computer. Connected to an actual keyboard it looks like a stupidly small monitor.

It offers mobile phone connectivity for those willing to literally look like clowns, but obviously cellphones remain optimal for cellular phone calls.

You can run music off an iPad but you could have done that with your cellphone.

You can read emails off an iPad but you could have done that with your cellphone.

You can watch videos off an iPad but you could have done that with your cellphone too.

“Not as well as with a ‘tablet’ mini-laptop i.e. my awesome new iPad!” Granted, but what videos worth watching in quality size and resolution aren’t more enjoyably or, ahem, tastefully watched in the (privacy of) one’s home via a real computer?**

So there it is. The iPad is just a giant cellphone for the reading impaired or for people who want to watch YouTube on the bus on a decent-sized screen.

Or maybe it is for reading electronic books.

Look for one under your Holiday Tree!


*The disgraceful practice of reading literature via an electonic tablet is not only bad for your eyes but leaves home book shelves distressingly unpopulated. Luckily the practice has not caught on.

**Or dare we say, “television.” Of course, the concept of paying for content is so passé. This is literally a playground for ethical equivocation among young adults. “Just get it off Bit Torrent!” “Sure the actors and the set and whatnot cost money but Warner Bros. has more money than I do!” “I’m a freakin’ college student? You think I can afford $4 at Blockbuster!” etc. etc. etc. Watch for a future article about the end of quality content by 2030 as the last baby boomer actually willing to “rent” a movie passes away.

Guy Actually Gets Laid with Axe

Sunday, December 19th, 2010

Ten years ago high schools across North America were deluged with millions of adolescent boys reeking of cheap, bottled musk and faux-pheromones. High schools hadn’t been hit as bad since the Old Spice craze in the 1970s, and at least Old Spice smells halfway pleasant. Yes, the boys were merely rubes, the prime movers of a new fad: Axe. We’d say they were also its victims, but that title really belongs to anyone sitting near them. Indeed, many schools still have a ban on the product. Axe deodorant smells exactly like that cheap 2 gallon cologne you can buy at a Dollarama. A heavy, choking sugary odor that one is assured acts as Spanish Fly upon any female inhalant. While it began to sweep North America in the late 90′s, it is unsurprisingly a French product that has been in production since 1983.

However, most fads run dry after about half a decade. For instance, you never see a Von Dutch cap anymore, while in 2005 every idiot had one perched just-so on his head. Axe, unfortunately, is like a fungus. It has since spread far beyond deodorant into “body sprays” (which is like cologne, if you sprayed cologne all over every surface of your body, re-applying every 45 minutes), body washes (sugary gel crap to replace soap), shampoo, aftershave and – most recently – hair gel. Individual Axe lines sport idiotic names – each of which has no indicative ability as to the related odor – like “Dark Temptation,” “Instinct,” and “Clix,” this last since you will literally have to use a clicker to count the number of girls that check your smelly ass out.

Despite an advertising campaign directed at communicating one simple message – Axe will get *you* laid – and one that has now topped a billion dollars over all these years, not one Axe user has in fact achieved consensual, un-paid sex with another person (what the company calls, “the Axe effect”) as a direct result of an Axe application. Until this week.

Yes, Sam Filks of Baton Rouge, Louisiana claims that he got laid at a 7/11 after a female shopper caught the scent of his Dark Temptation, as Sam said, “up in her oil fact’ries.”

However, reports are emerging that the woman was morbidly obese, a choc-a-holic in an unfunny sense, and not remotely like any of the models in the Axe ads.

It seems the Axe Effect is still unproven.

“Though, maybe you just didn’t use enough applications, Billy. There, get the back of your neck. That’s it.”

People Finally Sick of Guitar Hero

Friday, December 17th, 2010

Merry Christmas, er, Holidays! With only a week left in the shopping season, people are once again confronted with the annual realization that they didn’t budget the $400 necessary to get “good” gifts (i.e. crap the various personalities in their life would actually want) and are hitting the malls to find that elusive $18 item that won’t put receiving-oral-sex from their girlfriend on semi-permanent hiatus. Christmas is a fantastic time of year for retailers, and this is most true for the video game industry. Nintendo Wii faces some trouble this year since their motion-interface gimmick was recently ripped off by both PS3 and Microsoft Xbox so now the fiction that one-might-lose-weight-with-their-video-game-console is no longer a motive to buy a Nintendo Wii only. However, worse news exists for Activision, maker of Guitar Hero: people are tired of the whole karaoke thing.

Yes, Guitar Hero hit the shelves with a vengeance in 2005 and has sold like hotcakes since. It was fast followed by several imitators, most notably Rock Band in 2007, as well as Guitar Band in 2008, this a pale Atari rip-off for its console that only sells in significant volume in Romania. As per marketing SOP, sequels were rolled out as fast as Activision’s nerds could refresh the experience of pretending to play mediocre old Aerosmith songs via one’s television: Guitar Hero 2,3,4 and 5, more (plastic) instruments, cordless instruments, an AC/DC branded premium edition, add-on discs with more songs and so on.

However, this year only seven units of the latest Guitar Hero incarnation, Guitar Hero: Warriors of Rock, have been sold. It seems kids have finally reverted back to killing terrorists and aliens or taking their favorite NHL, NFL or MLB team to the playoffs as their favorite form of escapism. The adult crowd that usually avoids video games as being “for kids” (at least, as far as their wives or business associates are concerned) which so juiced the sales of Guitar Hero in years past has also grown tired of the whole charade. Most guitar heroes over the age of 18 realized that along with adulthood comes laziness and ambivalence and have gone back to watching American Idol since witnessing a person’s musical dreams get dashed is far more entertaining than working those of their own- and infinitely less frustrating (“…red, green, green, yellow, red, green, er RED!, DAMMIT! Red! Ah they’re booing me. Jeez, it’s 11:30pm for Christ’s sake and I have work tomorrow. Who bought this damn game again anyway?!”).

Facing the end of the lucrative fad, Activision is anxiously working on a game called Groupie Hero, in which you play a buxom 16 year old girl. Maintaining a solid rhythm is still central to game-play, and you win when you blackmail the lead singer into a pricey settlement lest you deliver some interesting photos to his wife. Automatic level restart if you sleep with the band manager or a roadie. Points are lost for STD contraction or getting stuck with a bill.

If the singer convinces you that he’s actually in love with you, you lose.

76% of American Households have a Gimp in their Cellar

Thursday, December 16th, 2010

A census taken just this week has revealed a remarkable fact: 76% of American households have a gimp in their cellar. Now, one would think that most people would not admit to owning a gimp; however, slipped in among some benign questions like, “What brand of detergent do you use?” and “How often do you go to the movies?” was “How well-fed is your gimp on a scale of 1 to 10?” Amazingly, over seven in ten people had an answer! (If you’re just curious or actually have a gimp of your own and would like some insight into the gimp upkeep habits of others, most people answered 4/10, suggesting that a plump gimp is not popular among gimp owners.) Once gimp ownership was confirmed, a further series of questions was asked to better get at this unspoken phenomenon among American households. From them it’s clear that most gimp-owners view their gimp as a pet, friend, sexual partner or all three.

The concept of a gimp was made popular by Quentin Tarantino’s epic 1994 gangster flick, Pulp Fiction. In the film, the boxer played by Bruce Willis and the gangster boss played by Ving Rhames have to join forces to escape from some rapist rednecks. In doing so Willis’ character saves Rhames’, and is then forgiven for having taken bribe money to throw a recent fight and then betting on himself and winning and keeping the bribe money. During this segment, the rapists are shown to keep a gimp in their cellar in a large trunk. In the film, the gimp is dressed in typical gimp S&M leather outfit.

Interestingly, the census showed that most Americans also keep their gimp in a tidy leather outfit. These come complete with zipper-enclosed apertures should you wish to insert something into the gimp or, on rare occasions, hear what the gimp has to say. The zipper allows one to seal off the aperture when not in use. However, only half of gimp-owning respondents indicated that a trunk or “gimp-box” is their preferred form of storage. Presumably such a low ceiling would retard the gimp’s ability to fully participate in activities when not enclosed in his storage area. “Lockable crawl-space” was a more frequent answer while quite a few communicated that they had a well in their sub-basement that is ideal for gimp-storage.

Most of the owners chose “Disagree quite strongly” to the proposition, “Owning a gimp is a form of sexual slavery.” Over half answered “Agreed” to the statement, “A gimp has no soul.” Interestingly, the same proportion answered “Yes” to the statement, “I love my gimp.”

Contrary to the gimp owning guidelines demonstrated in the film, only 11% of respondents indicated that they have ever woken their gimp up when he was sleeping.

TTT is an objective newspaper and does not weigh in with the opinions of its journalists when reporting breaking news; however, we hear that if you want to purchase a quality gimp, ask around at The Comfort Zone Mondays around 2am for a guy named, “Abrejo.”

He’ll getchya all set up.

Carrying Firearms in Canada Unthinkable

Tuesday, December 14th, 2010

The right to bear arms. “Ewwww, ridiculous. OK, maybe hunters can have rifles or shotguns but other than that no-one needs a pistol!” That it is always a question of what the majority believes the individual “needs” is the central problem. Indeed, bring up “assault rifle” and the average Canadian then faints. The general thinking in Canada is that only the police and the army should “have guns.” Given our non-violent, friendly exit from British colony status a gun culture never took root, and this is really the origin of such a blatantly passive mentality. Conversely, the Americans left the British Empire by force of arms and this is the origin of their gun culture, it further nurtured by the Civil War, Old West etc. Hence the addition of the right to the Constitution as the Second Amendment:

A well regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.

The anti-gun folks (they style themselves as “gun control” advocates, because, as we all know, *state control* is always the intelligent choice) make much out of the fact that it is an “amendment,” as if this is equivalent to “afterthought,” even though all ten of the first amendments exist as the Bill of Rights (just consider the name) and were written in 1791 only a few years after the Consitution was originally conceived. Of course, one must concede that a better argument exists for them as to the meaning of “militia,” although one that ultimately doesn’t hold water since “militia” basically meant all adult men at the time. Indeed, the second amendment is a never-ending source of stimulative debate in all of those (way too many) US law schools.

While the differing treatment of firearms in Canada versus in America is interesting from a historical point of view, the crux of the debate in both countries centers around the concept of liberty, the wording of the Second Amendment be damned. 

“To defend my person and property I should be able to carry a gun.”

While the US is hardly uniform any more regarding the carry issue (as opposed to ownership within one’s home), in Texas and some of the other southern and western states – these usually reviled by Canadians for a number of not-very-friendly reasons – this is still a perfectly rational and just notion, and one enshrined in law. In pacifist, nanny-state Canada, where ownership is barely tolerated, the carry concept is considered downright absurd. Some scenario building, if you’ll indulge us…

“If you’re in trouble, you just call the police.”

Oh, I see. The state will solve all problems as usual. What if the police won’t get there in time? Say, I’m on the street and I’ve dropped my cellphone because a large man just hit me in the arm with a Louisville Slugger and I don’t think he’ll let me pick it up to make a quick call?

“Well, you just do what the robber/rapist/arsonist/serial killer wants, and then s/he will eventually be caught. The Ontario government will cover any necessary psychiatric, abortion or funeral homer-related expenses. If you’re all caught up with the ridiculous notion of actually defending yourself, learn karate! (Don’t beat them up too bad though, or we’ll arrest you first.)”

And if there are four or five guys? Not only will I have to train under Georges St-Pierre, I’ll have to pay him to hang out with me 24/7!

Now we don’t want to give the impression that we here at TTT live in perpetual fear of the astronomically-unlikely probability of a violent street assault or mugging, home-invasion, or walk-in-upon-a-robbery, but it’s hardly as if these things don’t happen on a weekly basis throughout the city, Michael Moore’s ridiculous no-locked-doors tour aside.

We just propose that an adult citizen – without a violent crime on his/her record – should be allowed in public areas with firearms, as well as in private spaces that allow it.

Of course, the day will come when even pistol ownership is made illegal in Canada and then we will see the unlicensed-gun-driven gun violence in our bad neighborhoods disappear because, as everyone knows, armed criminals all have licensed guns, obviously, and we at TTT will have to eat our hat.

“Yeah, if the US didn’t have guns, then those ones wouldn’t be illegally imported here in the first place!”

To this we have no refutation. The circular logic is unassailable. Polemical circled wagons. Just don’t throw your shoe at us too hard from within them.

P.S. the Indians are coming. And by Indians we mean rapists, robbers, skin-suit artisans/serial killers, Islamo-fascists and aliens.

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