Which Supreme Court of Canada Justice are you?
Take the definitive quiz.
Guess who I am...
(hint: look to your right.)
(But if the quiz were updated, you know who I'd be.)
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Take the definitive quiz.
Guess who I am...
(hint: look to your right.)
(But if the quiz were updated, you know who I'd be.)
A Prime Ministerial musing for a cold, January P.M.
"Personne n'a le monopole des idées. Si vous en avez une bonne, prenez garde, je pourrais vous la voler." - Jean Chrétien
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"Personne n'a le monopole des idées. Si vous en avez une bonne, prenez garde, je pourrais vous la voler." - Jean Chrétien
Notwithstanding its uselessness...
An excerpt of Andrew Coyne's legitimate critique of Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms s.33, from today's National Post:
But, but, some conservatives splutter: The notwithstanding clause is part of the Charter. Indeed, they go on, it was critical to its eventual passage, part of the famous late-night "Kitchen Accord" between Roy McMurtry and Roy Romanow, representing the provinces, and Jean Chretien. It is not too much to say there would be no Charter without it. How, then, can it be illegitimate to use it?
Let's just pause, first, to consider the irony of this argument. The only reason the provinces were in a position to bargain for the clause's inclusion was because of the Supreme Court decision preventing Ottawa from patriating the constitution unilaterally. On what constitutional precedent did the court rely? None: It made the whole thing up. Yet it is this, perhaps the most egregious bit of judicial activism in the court's history (the secession reference is a close second) to which we owe the notwithstanding clause, beloved instrument of parliamentary supremacists everywhere.
And what if it was part of the original constitutional bargain? Is that enough to sustain its legitimacy, indefinitely? The Constitution of the United States at one time contained a clause stipulating that the slave populations of the southern states should be assessed, for purposes of representation, at a discount: Each slave was counted as three-fifths of a person. It was a critical compromise; the whole thing might never have passed without it. Yet would anyone maintain it should still be used on that account?
Some things fall into disuse for a reason. If the notwithstanding clause is increasingly seen as illegitimate by the political class, maybe it's because it never was particularly legitimate in the eyes of the public. And if the public doesn't like it, maybe that's because they see it for what it is: a constitutional hypocrisy, a perpetual invitation to mischief, a dagger pointed at the Charter's heart.
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An excerpt of Andrew Coyne's legitimate critique of Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms s.33, from today's National Post:
But, but, some conservatives splutter: The notwithstanding clause is part of the Charter. Indeed, they go on, it was critical to its eventual passage, part of the famous late-night "Kitchen Accord" between Roy McMurtry and Roy Romanow, representing the provinces, and Jean Chretien. It is not too much to say there would be no Charter without it. How, then, can it be illegitimate to use it?
Let's just pause, first, to consider the irony of this argument. The only reason the provinces were in a position to bargain for the clause's inclusion was because of the Supreme Court decision preventing Ottawa from patriating the constitution unilaterally. On what constitutional precedent did the court rely? None: It made the whole thing up. Yet it is this, perhaps the most egregious bit of judicial activism in the court's history (the secession reference is a close second) to which we owe the notwithstanding clause, beloved instrument of parliamentary supremacists everywhere.
And what if it was part of the original constitutional bargain? Is that enough to sustain its legitimacy, indefinitely? The Constitution of the United States at one time contained a clause stipulating that the slave populations of the southern states should be assessed, for purposes of representation, at a discount: Each slave was counted as three-fifths of a person. It was a critical compromise; the whole thing might never have passed without it. Yet would anyone maintain it should still be used on that account?
Some things fall into disuse for a reason. If the notwithstanding clause is increasingly seen as illegitimate by the political class, maybe it's because it never was particularly legitimate in the eyes of the public. And if the public doesn't like it, maybe that's because they see it for what it is: a constitutional hypocrisy, a perpetual invitation to mischief, a dagger pointed at the Charter's heart.
Stewart '08 - An Early Endorsement
Call me crazy, but after reading Maisonneuve's February/March cover story touting comedian Jon Stewart as the Dems' best chance candidate in '08, I'm actually ready to offer my (and Section 2's) full endorsement.
Writer Paul Matthews rationalizes, "American politics has become a theatre of the absurd. Following the polls and speaking clearly about your platform just doesn't win elections anymore. (ed.'s note: did it ever?) The only way the Democrats will win the presidency is by embracing the absurdity of their present political situation and nominating Jon Stewart for president."
And, I second Matthews' advice to Stewart: CALL JOE TRIPPI TODAY.
Oh, and the T-shirts are already ready to be ordered. God bless American entrepreneurship.
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Call me crazy, but after reading Maisonneuve's February/March cover story touting comedian Jon Stewart as the Dems' best chance candidate in '08, I'm actually ready to offer my (and Section 2's) full endorsement.
Writer Paul Matthews rationalizes, "American politics has become a theatre of the absurd. Following the polls and speaking clearly about your platform just doesn't win elections anymore. (ed.'s note: did it ever?) The only way the Democrats will win the presidency is by embracing the absurdity of their present political situation and nominating Jon Stewart for president."
And, I second Matthews' advice to Stewart: CALL JOE TRIPPI TODAY.
Oh, and the T-shirts are already ready to be ordered. God bless American entrepreneurship.
The end of the ink-on-paper news magazine?
In yesterday's Globe, Lawrence Martin forecasts stormy waters for Maclean's, Canada's grayest-haired news magazine. Martin, relying on the opinion of former editor Peter C. Newman, predicts that this format of magazine will go the way of the dinosaur in our insta-culture.
I'm not sure that this is true, even if it may be the case for Maclean's.
It's a question of resources, to be sure, but the format isn't outdated. There can be no question that The Economist, for instance, does a bang-up job with the format, utilizing the appealing physical size of the magazine to its advantage while providing a fine mix of concise and in-depth news coverage.
With no immediate influx of cash then I'd agree, Maclean's may need a new bag, but the idea that the weekly news magazine is stale... well, that seems an overgeneralization.
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In yesterday's Globe, Lawrence Martin forecasts stormy waters for Maclean's, Canada's grayest-haired news magazine. Martin, relying on the opinion of former editor Peter C. Newman, predicts that this format of magazine will go the way of the dinosaur in our insta-culture.
I'm not sure that this is true, even if it may be the case for Maclean's.
It's a question of resources, to be sure, but the format isn't outdated. There can be no question that The Economist, for instance, does a bang-up job with the format, utilizing the appealing physical size of the magazine to its advantage while providing a fine mix of concise and in-depth news coverage.
With no immediate influx of cash then I'd agree, Maclean's may need a new bag, but the idea that the weekly news magazine is stale... well, that seems an overgeneralization.
Missed Connection
You helped me open box of altoids sours - w4m
Reply to: anon-55710900@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-01-14, 9:30PM EST
Weds night at Chapters downtown, you used your pocketknife to help me get at my candy :) we exchanged a few words...you may have noticed that you made me blush! who are you?
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You helped me open box of altoids sours - w4m
Reply to: anon-55710900@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-01-14, 9:30PM EST
Weds night at Chapters downtown, you used your pocketknife to help me get at my candy :) we exchanged a few words...you may have noticed that you made me blush! who are you?
The Big Chill revisited?
Going on a weekend retreat, a reunion with my old student government compatriots from university. Eager to see what has (and hasn't) changed since graduation in May, 2003. In fact, of the gang assembling in rural New Hampshire, I've only seen two since that fateful cap 'n' gowned day.
Should be... ummm... interesting, to say the least.
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Going on a weekend retreat, a reunion with my old student government compatriots from university. Eager to see what has (and hasn't) changed since graduation in May, 2003. In fact, of the gang assembling in rural New Hampshire, I've only seen two since that fateful cap 'n' gowned day.
Should be... ummm... interesting, to say the least.
Closer is... fine
There's lots to say and write about Closer. But I want to begin at the beginning, as in the film's first scene where Natalie Portman and Jude Law's characters first notice eachother. They're approaching one another on a crowded London street, their eyes locked in eachother's gazes, the chemistry instant. And what does the audience hear?
Damien. Nothing but Damien.
My dear and delicious Damien Rice, singing his beautiful ballad "The Blower's Daughter". The only other music featured in the film is the opening riff of another Damien song, "Cold Water", which serves as the movie's score.
Much can be said about the film, both good and bad. But there can be nothing bad said about Mike Nichols' choice in music.
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There's lots to say and write about Closer. But I want to begin at the beginning, as in the film's first scene where Natalie Portman and Jude Law's characters first notice eachother. They're approaching one another on a crowded London street, their eyes locked in eachother's gazes, the chemistry instant. And what does the audience hear?
Damien. Nothing but Damien.
My dear and delicious Damien Rice, singing his beautiful ballad "The Blower's Daughter". The only other music featured in the film is the opening riff of another Damien song, "Cold Water", which serves as the movie's score.
Much can be said about the film, both good and bad. But there can be nothing bad said about Mike Nichols' choice in music.
Scrambled eggs with a side of Justice
Brunch with an old friend this morning at St. Viateur Bagel. Except the one on Monkland. It's a tight space with far too many people vying for overcooked scrambled eggs. It's so cramped that your chair back gets clinked anytime someone gets in or out of their seat behind you.
I'm sipping my Red Rose when Lynne motions me to pull my seat forward so the guy behind me can get out to fetch his coat.
"Excuse me, sorry," he apologizes.
I propel my chair forward without looking back, throwing a casual "no problem" over my shoulder.
Lynne smiles wide at me.
My eyes follow the man's back as he wraps his scarf. There is a second man beside him holding a briefcase. On Sunday morning.
It's Irwin Cotler. Canada's Justice Minister.
Lynne laughs. "You didn't even realize who was bumping you," she says.
"No, not at all."
I hadn't even glanced at him, I thought. Would I have been more polite if I'd known who it was? No, that's stupid. He's just a person. I would've acted exactly the same way. Wouldn't I have?
He and his colleague left the restaurant. Nobody even looked twice.
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Brunch with an old friend this morning at St. Viateur Bagel. Except the one on Monkland. It's a tight space with far too many people vying for overcooked scrambled eggs. It's so cramped that your chair back gets clinked anytime someone gets in or out of their seat behind you.
I'm sipping my Red Rose when Lynne motions me to pull my seat forward so the guy behind me can get out to fetch his coat.
"Excuse me, sorry," he apologizes.
I propel my chair forward without looking back, throwing a casual "no problem" over my shoulder.
Lynne smiles wide at me.
My eyes follow the man's back as he wraps his scarf. There is a second man beside him holding a briefcase. On Sunday morning.
It's Irwin Cotler. Canada's Justice Minister.
Lynne laughs. "You didn't even realize who was bumping you," she says.
"No, not at all."
I hadn't even glanced at him, I thought. Would I have been more polite if I'd known who it was? No, that's stupid. He's just a person. I would've acted exactly the same way. Wouldn't I have?
He and his colleague left the restaurant. Nobody even looked twice.
Timbit Nation
I've been asked repeatedly whether I got any extra-curricular reading in while in Vienna. What with more than 34 hours of airplane travel time, I did indeed get a chance to peruse some non-legal texts, including John Stackhouse's Canadian travelogue, "Timbit Nation".
Stackhouse is a long-time Globe man with a keen, reporter's eye for detail. The memoir is a compilation and extension of a Globe summer series whereby Stackhouse hitchiked from St. John, New Brunswick, to the westernmost tip of Vancouver Island.
For Stackhouse the journey marked a return to Canada's roadsides, the second time he watched the country pass before him from the passenger seat of strangers' cars. This time 'round, he sees a country that continues to define its national pride by being different from America.
Yet Stackhouse finds an encouragingly different perspective from his younger interviewees; it's a sense that no matter where they may land geographically, they will always be Canadian. There is a feeling conveyed that Canada is not a backwater outpost, nor a coat of arms on the front flap of a passport. Canada, at least for those Stackhouse chose to profile, is more than a nationality -- it is a deep and undeniable identity that isn't only about being different from "them", but is about being us. It is a Canada outgrowing its gawky adolescene, and blooming into a confident young adult.
An encouraging thesis.
I find that when travelling, I tend to gravitate to the travelogues. This is a good one, a nice meshing of socio-political commentary and vivid landscape description. It was oddly comforting to be standing with Stackhouse, on the side of the 417 in Kanata, Ontario, while rolling off a rain-slicked runway in Frankfurt.
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I've been asked repeatedly whether I got any extra-curricular reading in while in Vienna. What with more than 34 hours of airplane travel time, I did indeed get a chance to peruse some non-legal texts, including John Stackhouse's Canadian travelogue, "Timbit Nation".
Stackhouse is a long-time Globe man with a keen, reporter's eye for detail. The memoir is a compilation and extension of a Globe summer series whereby Stackhouse hitchiked from St. John, New Brunswick, to the westernmost tip of Vancouver Island.
For Stackhouse the journey marked a return to Canada's roadsides, the second time he watched the country pass before him from the passenger seat of strangers' cars. This time 'round, he sees a country that continues to define its national pride by being different from America.
Yet Stackhouse finds an encouragingly different perspective from his younger interviewees; it's a sense that no matter where they may land geographically, they will always be Canadian. There is a feeling conveyed that Canada is not a backwater outpost, nor a coat of arms on the front flap of a passport. Canada, at least for those Stackhouse chose to profile, is more than a nationality -- it is a deep and undeniable identity that isn't only about being different from "them", but is about being us. It is a Canada outgrowing its gawky adolescene, and blooming into a confident young adult.
An encouraging thesis.
I find that when travelling, I tend to gravitate to the travelogues. This is a good one, a nice meshing of socio-political commentary and vivid landscape description. It was oddly comforting to be standing with Stackhouse, on the side of the 417 in Kanata, Ontario, while rolling off a rain-slicked runway in Frankfurt.
Another Craig's List Goodie
BAGEL RUNNER (TO SAN FRANCISCO)
Reply to: job-52973985@craigslist.org
Date: 2004-12-20, 3:25PM EST
WE LOVE MONTREAL BAGELS, ESPECIALLY THE ONES FROM THE WOOD FIRED OVEN FOUND IN THE OLD TOWN. (YOU KNOW THE PLACE). ALSO THE MATZOH'S. (Ed's note: Montrealers know that they should specify whether they mean Fairmount or St. Viateur.)
Would you be willing to buy some if you are heading to the SF Bay Area anytime soon? We will pay you a $25 nominal fee and reiumburse you for the cost of the bagels and matzoh, of course. We live on the Peninsula and can meet you there or at SFO... perhaps when you arrive. Bagels must be fresh! Reply with your timing and we can work out the details. Thanks and Merci!
Say Oui to Montreal Bagels!
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BAGEL RUNNER (TO SAN FRANCISCO)
Reply to: job-52973985@craigslist.org
Date: 2004-12-20, 3:25PM EST
WE LOVE MONTREAL BAGELS, ESPECIALLY THE ONES FROM THE WOOD FIRED OVEN FOUND IN THE OLD TOWN. (YOU KNOW THE PLACE). ALSO THE MATZOH'S. (Ed's note: Montrealers know that they should specify whether they mean Fairmount or St. Viateur.)
Would you be willing to buy some if you are heading to the SF Bay Area anytime soon? We will pay you a $25 nominal fee and reiumburse you for the cost of the bagels and matzoh, of course. We live on the Peninsula and can meet you there or at SFO... perhaps when you arrive. Bagels must be fresh! Reply with your timing and we can work out the details. Thanks and Merci!
Say Oui to Montreal Bagels!
The Vienna Diaries, Part II
Prosit Neu Jahr (spell check?) to all. I spent mine counting it down on the lawn of the Rathaus, Vienna's City Hall (aptly named for a gov't building, no?), mug full of steaming gluhvein, watching hundreds of couples usher in 2005 with a celebratory waltz.
Each of the city's Platzes were outfitted with outdoor stages, with musical themes ranging from Viva Las Vegas to Mozart. Sausages and cheer abounded; it was a hell of a party.
The one disconcerting part of the celebration was the fascination of Viennese teenagers with firecrackers, and more specifically, the explosion of hundreds of firecrackers on crowded streets and sidewalks. The city felt besieged, the echo of the explosion through its narrow streets almost reminiscent of black and white war movies depicting a blitzkrieg.
The blitz aside, the city was exuberant and alive.
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Prosit Neu Jahr (spell check?) to all. I spent mine counting it down on the lawn of the Rathaus, Vienna's City Hall (aptly named for a gov't building, no?), mug full of steaming gluhvein, watching hundreds of couples usher in 2005 with a celebratory waltz.
Each of the city's Platzes were outfitted with outdoor stages, with musical themes ranging from Viva Las Vegas to Mozart. Sausages and cheer abounded; it was a hell of a party.
The one disconcerting part of the celebration was the fascination of Viennese teenagers with firecrackers, and more specifically, the explosion of hundreds of firecrackers on crowded streets and sidewalks. The city felt besieged, the echo of the explosion through its narrow streets almost reminiscent of black and white war movies depicting a blitzkrieg.
The blitz aside, the city was exuberant and alive.
![[Click for official biography]](http://ansuz.sooke.bc.ca/justices/photo-De.jpg?1299748013-0.1-974446364)