Bent or jaded?

A friend of mine insists that all politicians are bent. I disagree with him. I’d say that few start out that way: some enter politics to perform public service, others pay homage to that principle but kind of enjoy wielding power. Politics involves messy compromises; politicians (like the rest of us) like to be liked, and they get worn down in the process and become more jaded than bent.

It’s for that reason that I’ve never had much problem with the concept of parliamentary pensions. I just think they’re designed the wrong way. They should be ‘front end loaded’, so that politicians have an incentive to retire early and get out before the jading process takes hold. Similarly, I’d put a prime minister’s face on a piece of folding money if he or she stayed in office for four years or less, but quickly work it down to inscribing his or her name on a mere bus terminal if he or she had the bad judgment to stick around for more than 10 years.

How do we know when politicians are jaded? I say, when they show a lack of civility— something that is all too apparent these days. Take Question Period—as many humourists, back before even Rich Little and John Diefenbaker—have done.

Now I have to admit, some of the blame for the lack of civility in Question Period lies with the amateurish framing of questions, which just demand some sort of insulting response:

Opposition questioner: Mr. Speaker, given that the Minister of Fisheries has just cut off the vitamins for fish program, throwing thousands of fish processing workers out of work, when will the Minister realize that he is more heartless than Mr. Scrooge himself and that the boneheaded policies of this government can only lead to economic ruin?

Anticipated answer: Gee I guess you’re right, I hadn’t thought of it in those terms. I’m so sorry.

Actual answer: Mr. Speaker, if the member for Briny Ocean – Codswollop had taken the time to read our Economic Action Plan, he would have seen that we have massive plans to create jobs in our fisheries sector. But no, he is too busy reading Karl Marx to care about ordinary Canadians. Cue profound applause and standing ovation from Conservative benches.

Mr. Speaker: Order, Order.

But sometimes, direct questions are posed, and nothing infuriates me as much as the failure to answer them:

Opposition questioner: Mr. Speaker, given that many heads of government have met with the Dalai Lama, will this government undertake to do so?

Anticipated answer: Well, maybe; but he is kind of a loose cannon.

Actual answer: Mr. Speaker, no government has done more than this government to promote horticulture. In the past five years, we have created 20 million jobs in tne Atlantic horticultural sector alone. Obviously, from his question, the member for Brampton- Bramalea-Halton-Goderich-GodKnowsWhereElse and The Islands doesn’t care two hoots about flowers. I would not be surprised if he doesn’t even buy his mother flowers on Mother’s Day.

Some Honourable Members: Shame, Shame.

Mr. Speaker: Order, Order.

But for one brief shining moment last week, the willingness to answer questions returned. And the opposition raised its game:

The Honourable Leader of the Opposition (speaking gravely and with deliberate hand gestures): When the Prime Minister first learned of the $90,000 payment to Mike Duffy by Nigel Wright, what size and kind of shoes was he wearing?

Anticipated anwer: Aw, shut up, fatface.

Actual answer: Mr. Speaker, I did not learn that I was wearing size 9 1/2 brown loafers until the morning of May 15, at which point I promptly asked for his resignation.

Follow-up question: Can the Prime Minister assure this house that nobody in his office was wearing size 9 1/2 brown loafers on May the 14th, which was the day before?

Anticipated answer: Mr. Speaker, I agree with my friend that May 14 was the day before May15.

Actual answer: By the Minister of External Affairs. Mr. Speaker, I am informed and have every reason to believe that no one in the Prime Minister’s office at any time during the month of May wore size 9 1/2 brown loafers. But we have referred this matter ot the federal orthotics commissioner and will cooperate fully.

Follow-up question (as theatrical aside): And I suppose no one wore size 9 1/2 socks either!

From opposition benches: Hoots of derisive laughter and shouts of “gotcha”.

Mr. Speaker: Order, Order.

Alas, the next day, we were back to the usual nasty business:

The Honourable Leader of the Opposition: Has the Prime Minister any evidence that any member of his staff ever assisted Mike Duffy in any way in tying up his shoelaces?

Anticipated answer: Your question is worthy of Perry Mason. I admit total blame and hereby resign. How about you become Prime Minister?

Actual answer: The Leader of the Opposition has a lot of nerve. At least I am prepared to asnwer the question. Contrast that to the Leader of the Opposition, who chopped down a cherry tree when he was 16 years old and then waited 40 years to confess to having done so, notwithstanding there is a Royal Commission on corruption in Quebec.

Some Honourable Members: Shame, shame.

Mr. Speaker: Order, Order.

Follow-up question: How many left-footed size 9 1/2 brown loafers has any member of the Prime MInister’s staff ever worn while meeting, talking to, texting or e-mailing Senator Mike Duffy?

Anticipated answer: You really do have us by the short and curlies on this one. I will fire another staff member.

Actual answer: By the Minister of State for International Knitware. The Leader of the Opposition has a lot of nerve. At least this government is prepared to answer the question. Contrast that to the Leader of the Opposition, who chopped down a cherry tree when he was 16 years old and then waited 40 hears to confess to having done so, nothwithstanding there is a Royal Commission on corruption in Quebec.

Some Honourable Members: Shame, shame.

Mr. Speaker: Order, Order.

dsimmonds@wellingtontimes.ca