The war of attrition

One of the sidebar stories emerging in the federal election campaign is the number of candidates who have been forced by their parties to resign after documentation of their dubious behaviour has come to light—thanks in large measure to the long memory of social media.

A Liberal candidate from Alberta was done in, in part, by a four-year-old tweet suggesting that a person with whom she had an intellectual disagreement “go blow your brains out.” Unfortunately, this was not the work of the candidate as a four year-old, and the brains she was referring to turned out to be her own. Perhaps the most notorious self-destruct has been that of the Conservative candidate from the Toronto area who was caught on video—while a guest in someone’s house—doing in a mug what is normally done in a bowl. By my count, there are at least seven candidate resignations in the till so far. While that’s less than one per cent of all the candidates running in the election, it’s still a worrisome number.

Each of the parties is no doubt still digging for the goods on the others’ candidates—as well as its own, on the theory that a principled fratricide is less damaging than an enemy ambush. Is there a tweet about a teenaged candidate-to-be throwing snowballs at little old ladies? Can it be shown that a nine-year-old future candidate cheated on a homework assignment? These shockers, if they existed, would do a campaign more damage more quickly than any persuasive argument over policy. In the absence of any statute of limitations on the use of embarrassing material—under which candidates would be forgiven anything that happened, say, before they were old enough to vote, or before the last election—it’s a war of attrition out there.

Here in the Bay of Quinte riding, for example, there is a rumour afloat that Green Party candidate Rachel Nelems was caught on video pitching an apple core into a garbage pail rather than into a green food waste bin. There are also said to be pictures of Liberal candidate Neil Ellis with a broad smile on his face, hoisting a glass of what is alleged to be Niagara wine. “Note that the glass never touches his lips,” said one of his opponents, “so he must know it’s not safe to drink.”

Nor are the Conservative and NDP candidates lilywhite. There is said to be a picture, taken from NDP archives, of a youthful Conservative candidate Jodie Jenkins wearing an NDP button. But while the NDP team would like to use the photograph, they have refrained on the basis they might precipitate a mutually assured campaign destruction. That is because the Conservatives are rumoured to have a picture of NDP candidate Terry Cassidy reading one of Ayn Rand’s books. Cassidy’s explanation (“I thought I was reading something about collective bargaining”) has not tested well with focus groups.

The problem could also affect the party leaders directly. There is said to be a home movie clip that shows a youthful Justin Trudeau merrily singing along with his late father the phrase “Why should I sell your wheat, western Canada, why should l sell your wheat?” As for Thomas Mulcair, a photograph is said to be trading on the black market at Rob Ford-like prices showing an infant in his arms tugging on and removing a full facial hairpiece, to reveal a natural thin goatee, much to Mulcair’s annoyance. “He looks like Lenin with a vanity issue,” said one operative. “And it seems like he doesn’t like children to boot.” No one has yet bothered to look for any dirt on Elizabeth May out in the Internet ether. “If we think the Green Party needs a cold shower, all we have to do is run the footage of her Parliamentary Press Gallery dinner speech again,” yawned one backroomer.

And as for Stephen Harper? The coup de grâce is said to be recording of the Prime Minister uttering the words “good to go.” Conservatives claim their opposition has somehow got its hands on a tape of Harper ordering a pizza, and then edited it beyond the bounds of fair play. The full tape, they claim, has Harper asking whether the store still has its weekly special on medium pepperonis with extra cheese. “Good,” says the PM. He is then asked—they claim—whether he is picking up the pizza or having it delivered. He replies “to go.” His opponents, naturally, are equally confident that what they have in hand is possibly legitimate, and have a secret affidavit to that effect in case they are sued.

And so the war of attrition continues. Pretty soon, sainthood will be a necessary qualification to run for high office. Or the lack of a Twitter account.

dsimmonds@wellingtontimes.ca