HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2009-06-11, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JUNE 11, 2009. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
As long as people worship Caesars and
Napoleons,
Caesars and Napoleons will arise to make
them miserable.
– Aldous Huxley
Iown a book entitled The Leadership
Genius of George W. Bush. It is not a satire
and it was not written tongue-in-cheek.
It was penned and published in all
seriousness, back in 2003, early in the 43rd
president’s mandate, before his career turned
into a careen and his cartwheeling catalogue of
colossal disasters became embarrassingly
obvious to all but the most blinkered
Republican diehards.
Point is, such diehards still exist. There are
people – plenty of them – who still believe that
Dubya was a great president and a
misunderstood hero of his time.
Yes, Virginia, dinosaurs do roam the earth.
And not exclusively in America.
Recently, the citizens of Russian were asked
to select The Greatest Russian of All Time.
There’s a challenge – Russia’s produced
literary giants like Tolstoy, Dostoevsky,
Pushkin, Chekhov, Gogol and Turgenev to
pick a random half-dozen.
And Russian musical geniuses –
Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev,
Shostakovich spring to mind.
Pianists like Horowitz and Richter;
violinists such as Oistrakh, and Rostropovich;
dancers from Nijinsky to Nureyev…
Russia has given the world outstanding
philosophers, engineers, statesmen, athletes –
name a category and it wouldn’t be hard to
appoint a Russian name to it.
So who did Russians pick as the All Time
Greatest Russian?
A 13th century saint, prince and politician
by the name of Alexander Nevsky, actually –
but that’s not what caught my eye.
Neither was the chap who notched second
place, a Russian prime minister from the early
1900’s named Stolypin.
Nope, what got my attention was the guy
who took the bronze. Third most popular
Russian of all time, chosen freely and without
coercion by 50 million voters?
Joseph Stalin.
Think about that for a moment, tovarich.
Joe Stalin: one of the greatest mass murderers
and certifiable madmen of all time. A
megalomaniacal drunk who had his enemies
either murdered outright by firing squad or
lingeringly in brutal Siberian prison camps.
They reckon Stalin had at least 800,000
enemies executed. Another 1.7 million
‘officially’ perished in the Gulags.
Nobody knows the final tally but it’s
somewhere between 3 million and 60 million
souls. Almost all of them his own countrymen.
And their descendants regard him as a hero?
It’s not like the vote was a fluke. In an earlier
poll, Stalin came in second. And in a 2006
survey nearly 40 per cent said they would vote
for Stalin if he were still alive.
What is in human nature that makes so many
of us eager to polish our manacles and kiss the
cat o’ nine tails? Not hard to figure out in a
country like North Korea where to diss the
repulsive runt who likes to be called Dear
Leader can get you killed on the spot – but
why Russia?
Stalin’s been dead for more than half a
century and the Putin regime goes to great
lengths to distance itself from his grisly legacy.
How come millions of Russians still think Joe
was a stand-up guy?
Even weirder – look at Britain. The English
have been tugging their forelocks and
prostrating themselves before royalty ever
since a guy named Offa, son of Thingfrith
convinced them it would be a good idea, back
in 774 AD. Offa no doubt had some muscle for
backup, but nowadays? Nobody’s going to get
sent to the Tower by royal edict yet still there
are staunch loyalists who are happy to pledge
loyalty to a family based solely on their DNA.
Granted, Britons have an admirable and
worthy woman as Queen currently, but they’ve
been equally reverent and deferential when the
throne was occupied by dipsomaniacs,
syphilitics, lechers and raving loons.
Mao Zedong, another monster and a
contemporary of Stalin, once mused that his
‘popularity’ was a consequence of his
superhuman charisma. “People like me to
sound like a lot of big cannons,” he explained.
I expect that Mao merely like to think that he
came across as a cannon barrage, whereas he
was really just a dumpy little guy with mossy
green teeth, halitosis that could blister paint
and a penchant for deflowering underage girls.
Stalin, too, had delusions of grandeur. His
real name was Iosif Vissarionovich
Dzhugashvili but he preferred Stalin (it means
man of steel).
Alas, the Butcher of Georgia was made of
less durable stuff. Stalin was only five foot
four, had a crippled left arm, pockmarks all
over his face and, at his death, only three teeth
in his mouth.
But people don’t buy reality; they buy
images. That’s how we got The Great
Helmsman and the Man of Steel.
And that leadership genius George W. Bush.
Arthur
Black
Other Views
Heroes with feats of clay
Ontario’s opposition Progressive
Conservatives needed to inject some
optimism into a leadership campaign
that has gone badly off track and the governing
Liberals suddenly are providing it.
The Conservatives’ race has produced a few
policy ideas worth considering, but has been
dominated by unnecessary backbiting over an
issue that cannot help, but only hurt their party,
a push by two candidates to scrap or severely
restrict powers of the Ontario Human Rights
Commission and tribunals that investigate
alleged abuse.
Extreme right-wingers have been worked up
over this, but few in the public care about it.
The Commission, starting half-a-century ago,
and tribunals with a few aberrations, have
done worthwhile jobs protecting against
discrimination and the party needs to move on
quickly to other issues and hope voters forget
it flirted with this one.
The race also has struggled because of a
widespread feeling the Liberals under Premier
Dalton McGuinty, despite the economic
recession, have enough support, 47 per cent, in
polls to win a third successive election, and
whoever the Conservatives choose will not
matter anyway.
But the Conservatives are fortunate in
having an issue that could help invigorate
them dropped in their lap. It has been revealed
that the health ministry has spent hundreds of
millions of dollars setting up a still unfinished
electronic records system wasting money on it
spectacularly at a time it lacks money to fund
real healthcare, including reducing wait times
in hospitals.
The Liberals have paid $2,700 a day to
individual consultants who were mean enough
to charge the taxpayer an extra $1.39 every
time they bought a muffin and $1.59 for a can
of pop.
This is at a time when many residents are
particularly hurting through job losses. It is the
sort of waste taxpayers easily relate to, while
overspending millions is so remote from their
lives it sometimes goes over their heads.
Parallels were seen in the uproar over
nannies, hired to look after children, being
forced to work unpaid overtime washing an
MP’s car, and an environment minister
building Ontario’s biggest garage at her home
for her family’s gas-guzzlers, for which she
lost her job. These are down-to-earth failings
people can recognize and do not accept.
Most residents had not blamed McGuinty
for the economic recession that has cost tens
of thousands of jobs in Ontario, because they
saw this happening elsewhere and attributed
its start particularly to financial institutions
pushing credit on people in the United States
who had no hope of repaying.
But the Liberals’ waste on electronic health
information has started to focus attention on
the whole issue of Liberal spending, some
aspects of which have been overlooked.
The Liberals first said their deficit this year
would be $14 billion and most residents
appeared to accept this extraordinary shortfall
was necessary to preserve jobs. But it has
jumped to $18 billion and prompted a wave of
charges they cannot be relied on and are
dithering.
The Conservatives have an opportunity to
remind that the Liberals lost more than $100
million investing in those shaky sub-prime
mortgages forced on U.S. residents, a huge
error of judgment they have never fully
explained.
The Tories will be able to recall the Liberals
were caught helping children’s aid societies
pay for top-of-the-line, gas-guzzling SUVs for
employees to drive in their jobs, and $2,000-a-
year gym memberships to relieve their stress,
while they did not have enough to pay for
programs children need.
The Conservatives are able to remind that
David Caplan, the health minister responsible
for making sure those overpaid consultants got
free muffins, was not long ago, the minister in
charge of lotteries, who failed to protect ticket
buyers from cheating retailers.
The Conservatives are demanding
McGuinty fire Caplan this time and the
premier, struggling to defend the indefensible,
must wish he had done so earlier and may have
to put him in a less visible role when the heat
cools down.
The Conservative leadership that seemed a
booby prize is looking more like a job worth
having.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
Music played, the sun shone, and the
summer heat warmed. The merry
chatter of the children drifted along
on a gentle breeze. Oblivious of the crowded
streets they skipped boisterously past shuffling
feet, strollers and pausers.
It was the first family outing of the summer,
a return to a favourite vacation destination and
they were eager to visit all the familiar haunts
and do all the familiar things.
At this moment they were heading to the fun
little restaurant they knew so well. For days
leading up to the holiday, the kids had
bubblingly babbled on about the music and
menu. They knew what to order and had been
salivating for the mouth-watering four-cheese
pizza. They loved the din and chaos of the
congested eatery, that the root beer came in
bottles that looked like beer bottles, and the
cheesy tunes from the player piano.
Oh, yes, the plan was in place and their steps
got even livelier as they neared the eatery.
But then, suddenly and out of nowhere, Dad
suggested a change in plans. Why not pick up
some food and have a picnic by the river, he
mused.
A what?! What could he possibly be
thinking?
Well, it’s a couple of decades later and I
know now exactly what he was thinking. Our
family had taken this little holiday for several
years. It was tradition, from beginning to end.
We looked forward to certain parts of it and to
stray meant not being able to experience
something we had anticipated. But, had we
listened to my poor outnumbered husband that
day we might have discovered something we
enjoyed equally as much.
While the outing was all about family, a
picnic would have provided a relaxing time,
perfect to appreciate nature’s beauty and each
other’s company. Instead of taking in the circus
created by a crowd in a confined space, we
could have spread out under blue skies and
open air.
I haven’t thought about that day much in the
years that have followed. And I can’t
remember ever going on a picnic since. They
have simply not been my preferred eating out
experience.
But a comment tossed out during casual
conversation recently about picnic potential on
an upcoming mini-holiday, stirred some
dormant memories, of open trunks, wicker
baskets, bounty spread out on blankets, and
sated bodies spread out on green grass. Of
conversation as slow and easy as the drone of
the nearby hovering bee. Of fresh air, blue sky
and bright sun simultaneously relaxing and
reviving.
As a child I went on picnics. They didn’t
have the same feeling of ‘event’that going to a
restaurant had. I couldn’t order a shake or get
French fries. There was no busy-ness to amuse.
But they were, in their own way, fun.
What changed? As I do after all, very much
enjoy dining al fresco, I suspect the extra work
and planning required to put together a picnic,
rather than grab a burger enroute might have
something to do with it. But that’s no excuse
when the work can be done for you.
So, that casual comment noted above,
though initially given short shrift by me, has
been replaying in my mind and gradually
gaining a spark of enthusiasm. The suggestion
was a prepared picnic to be enjoyed beside a
waterfall in the woods.
It’s good to know there’s still a part of my
brain sharp enough to see the value in this
different dining experience.
Tory race gets some optimism
Dining out
There’s only one corner of the universe you
can be certain of improving, and that’s your
own self.
– Aldous Huxley
Final Thought