The premier was so upset with a recent headline in The Chronicle Herald atop a story on energy conservation that he had his office send letters to 24 other newspapers to explain himself. The headline said "take the bus" in paraphrasing the premier's comment, "take up the opportunity for transit."
---from the Herald on May 16, 2008
To my dear citizen peoples of Cape Breton and the restof Canada's Ocean Playground,I write to you out of a deep feeling of shock and appallity. You of course know what I'm talking about. Attending the Canada vs Finland hockey game in the company of exhalted Prime Minister Stephen Harper was a personal thrill to me. And some of you tried to ruin it by booing when the TV cameras flashed our smiling faces on the big screen. For shame, for shame.
Luckily his prime ministerhood has an abundance of experience dealing with the disfavour others have caused to him. I'll never forget his words of consolidarity after your jeers rained down on us. "So, Randy, you must be as shit-scared as I am about an election." It was like he could read my skullspace. Encouraged by my nodding, he betrayed some advice.
"Don't change what you're doing or try to make 'better decisions' and such," he said, the scorn dripping off his fingers when he made those quotey markers in the air. "Just start attacking the press. That's what works for me and Emperor Bush. Make them question the job they're doing, and they'll have less balls to question the job you're doing. Attack, like our invincible Canadian boys down there." He turned back to the game, while the seed took shape in my gears.
I couldn't wait to take up the opportunity for bipedal transit out of the Metro Centre, into the waiting car. When I really need to clear my head and get away from you all, there's no place like the Natural Resources helicopter. (At $2,240 for a round trip from my Mabou home to Halifax, which somebody else pays, that's an opportunity I encourage you to take up.) But in a pinch it's nice to go for long rides, headed no place in particular. That's where I told the driver to go now. Five hours later, I had a master plan ready. "Take me to my leaders," I commanded the driver. He handed me the blindfold and hit the gas.
After the car stopped and my door opened, I stepped out onto the familiar concrete floor. My blindfold was removed, and I presented my plan to the Brain Trust. The garage echoed with silence. Then they started. "The bus thing?" said Mr. Pink. "That's nearly three weeks old. You'll be a slow whiner, not a 'decisive attacker.'" (His quotey markers can be pretty scornful, too.)
Mr. Brown didn't see my point: "But you were telling people to use the bus. That's all we've got. Unless you're gonna trot that subways-in-coal-mines nonsense out in public." "The bus is our stated policy for the underclasses and the climate crazies," Mr. Orange reminded me, pointing to Conserve Nova Scotia's drivewiser.ca website on his laptop. Under the Eco-Rules of the Road section, "take the bus" is the second suggestion, with a link to 13 bus services from Yarmouth to Cape Breton. Damn the media and their intertubes.
Only good old Mr. Blue came to my rescue. "Fellas, we're fucked until we can convince Peter Kelly to leave City Hall and lead this party. If we let Roddy write his letter, it'll be another nail for the coffin we're building." Their agreement was my victory. And my victory is your opportunity to take up my articulancy. Let's be clear: If there are no helicopters, I'll choose cars over buses every time. I am Rodney MacDonald, your idiot premier. And I remain committed to driving this province into the ground. a
