So let it be written…
Well, as they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Pierre’s weapon of choice was the middle finger; Junior’s the elbow.
Parliamentary tradition has it that the gap between where the governing party and opposition sits is two full sword lengths plus one inch, to remind us all that figurative, not real blood, is what’s spilled in House of Commons debate.
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau fell on a figurative field of swords this past week, apologizing up, down and sideways in the wake of Elbowgate, which is surely to go down as one of Canada’s worst political calamities, barring the FLQ crisis.
Canadian’s jaws dropped as MPs flooded on to that hallowed floor, hypnotically drawn to the collective absurdity coalescing there after the elbow of our nation’s leader made contact with the chest of New Democrat MP Ruth Ellen Brosseau on Wednesday morning.
Truly, a sad day to be Canadian.
Brosseau, filled no doubt with all sorts of terribly hurt-filled feelings, summoned her inner child to tell of her ordeal. I’m surprised she didn’t start twirling her hair with her finger, like a four year old might. “I was elbowed in the chest by the prime minister (sniff) and then I had to leave (sniff). It was very overwhelming (boo-hoo).”
Then, the dog pile.
Brosseau’s NDP colleague Niki Ashton sunk her teeth in, accusing Trudeau, with spectacular hyperbole, of committing “the furthest thing from a feminist act.”
Unbelievably — and I mean, UNBELIEVABLY — Tory MP Todd Doherty had this to say, in light of the prime minister’s unforgivable transgression: “The offender never intended to hurt somebody. A drunk driver never intended to kill people.” And on it went. And on, and on.
Trudeau must feel like he’d been hit by a truck. But what did he expect? This week he faced, in all its terrifying idiocy, the Teletubby world he is championing. My goodness, with this current crop of MPs, we’d likely all be better off with Tinky-Winky, Dipsy, Laa Laa and Po, anyway.
Poor Trudeau, patron saint of political correctness. No amount of self-flagellation will satisfy the Barney-zilla NDP or complicit Igor Conservatives.
Sometimes, in times of trouble, people find God. The next morning, perhaps contrite for losing his temper, dropping F-bombs and otherwise playing a leading role in what might have been the most disgraceful day in Canadian parliamentary history, Trudeau tweeted out that he was proud to have participated in the National Prayer Breakfast, where Romans 12:3-18 was studied, which ironically delves into matters of “sober judgement,” and hating what is evil and clinging to what is good.
Even then, Trudeau couldn’t catch a break. Some guy named Ray Heard tweeted back, “Hope you prayed for your own soul after assaulting female MP with Elbow into her breast.”
Internationally, Twitter was abuzz.
BBC News US incisively described it as a “Storm in a tea cup” and further, “The elbowing seen round the world. Another apology from Canadian PM Justin Trudeau.”
Some saw humour in it. Lord Vegetable tweeted: “That was a wee cheeky titty elbow, popular in Hairdressers, Dentist chairs and nightclubs.” Others responded with envy, like Pelisa Cossie: “He apologized for that?! Please send him to South Africa to teach our president how it’s done.”
Tweeters from the U.S. also had a good laugh. Comic relief from the Donald, I guess.
Sure, they’ve got Trump, but after this fiasco, can you really fault them for now thinking, Do I really want to move to Canada?
Time was when Taiwan’s parliament was the go-to gang for amusing government house punch-ups and other zany shenanigans.
Sadly, this week has revealed, on an international stage, what a bunch of clowns Canada’s parliamentarians can be.
Oh, Canada. The embarrassment of it all.
So let it be done…