ZIP IT!!!

I am not an anti-social person by any stretch of the imagination. The restraining order against me greatly prohibits my contact with others, but when the restrictions are relaxed, I am a great guy to be around. Anyone one who knows me is aware that good manners and etiquette are one of the most important values I hold dear -and manners, as I define them, is being polite to people, especially when the other person is making it very hard to do so. Politeness is artificial good humor, as Jefferson once said. Manners are the last remaining vestige of what historians refer to as the western honour culture, and anyone who has recently received rotten customer service at the local burger joint by the green haired, multi-pierced kid behind the counter knows exactly what I'm talking about. Keeping this in mind, there are people with whom I find it difficult to hold to my own personal code of ethics - I call them bus buddies.

Bus buddies are people who lack basic social skills who sit next to you on a bus, plane, train, or shuttle. They - like people who overshare the details of their usightly skin conditions - also lack something that I call the verbal filter. The verbal filter is that little stop sign we all possess that prevents us from making inappropriate comments during day to day conversation.

Example: Say you're in the middle of a job interview, and your potential employer asks you what negative qualities you posses. Now, maybe you like to start off your morning downing jello shooters and mowing your lawn in the nude. For most of us, our personal filter would clamp our tongue shut before we volunteered that information and were promptly escorted from the building by security. Some people don't have - or choose not to use - their own personal information filter.

Bus buddies are the dread of every frequent flyer, and I seem to attract them the way Barney Frank attracts muscle bound Italian boys.

Claire and I flew on a major American airline carrier - I lose the term "airline" loosely because it seemed more like a school bus with wings. Claire was seated to the right of me, and my bus buddy was waiting to pounce on the left. Something creeped me out about the guy, and the moment I made eye contact, I found out why. For the next 3 hours he shot questions at me like he was skeet shooting at a clay pigeon - "Whatchya reading?", "What's it about?", "Where did you get your tattoo?", "Did you see the new Batman movie?", "Do you wish you had a motorcycle like Batman?"

I am a patient person, but I felt like weeping.

Anyway, I should take a breather to re-examine the old gratitude meter. I got to go to Miami and spend time in paradise with the lovely miss Claire and her folks. It can get hectic out there. Always take a moment during the day to think of your kids, or your loved ones, and realize just how lucky you are.

Cordially

Joe

Meet Me in Miami

It's 1:20am Thursday morning, and the lovely Miss Claire and I are preparing to jump in the car to take a 5:00am flight out of Halifax with a stop over in Newark, then off to Miami - the Fairmont Turnberry Isle Resort and Club in Miami to be exact. Those of you who are regular readers know I am not a heat person, so while I am thrilled, I am not exactly looking forward to the oppressive molten lava heat of Florida. I can't wait to go to a little spot called "La Hacienda" for Cuban sandwiches with black beans and yellow rice. Apart from that, the trip will comprise of the compulsory pilgrimage to West Palm Beach where I can horrify the locals with my impressive Canadian body mass index, brought about by countless weekends sitting on my ass and stuffing dill pickle chips down my gullet. My family crest has a picture of a remote control on it - we are more familiar with the words nap and fried shrimp than we are with words like jog and move it will ya?

Anyway, in regards to the last post.

Do you feel a little dirty? Like you've been used? Like the time uncle Larry sat you on his lap at Christmas time and, through his gin soaked breath, told you the joke about how milk and cookies aren't the only things that Santa chews on when he comes down the chimney? You didn't quite get the joke, but you that felt something very wrong had just transpired. When you went to bed you made sure you locked the door - a habit you still fastidiously re-enact to this day. Well, you should feel a little dirty, because I did use you. My last blog post, though every word was heartfelt, was meant to be inflammatory. I could have called it "the problem with Canada", or as my fellow blogger and former economic editor is fond of saying, "Cuba North", but I purposely named the article "I Don't Want to be Canadian Anymore", thinking that my knee jerk liberal-minded countrymen would fly into a unified spasmatic fit of sputtering outrage, staging a protest outside my super fly downtown apartment after they had politely asked for a permit from the proper municipal authorities - instead I got silence.

Well, not exactly silence. Not the type of silence you get from your wife when she finds out you came home so drunk you wrote your name in piss on the new white shag carpeting. Not that of silence. Instead, I got agreement (which to me is a political type of pseudo-silence). I would casually bring up the article in conversation and instead getting of Jap-slapped, I got suggestions of other things I should have added to the list....and these people aren't exactly card carrying members of the vast right wing conspiracy. Most of them are liberal with some libertarian leanings who feel that our judiciary and busy body bureaucrats are overstepping their grounds. I was rather relieved there are more people out there who seem to realize that the jack-booted thought police are running amuck on freight train heading toward a personal opinion near you.

Sorry I have to cut this short, but we really have to get going. See you on the way back, and please be patient - the Obama piece is coming.

Have a good weekend. In case I didn't mention it...we'll be in Miami...suckers.

Cordially

Joe

I Don't Want to be Canadian Anymore

Before you begin pecking furiously away at your keyboards like a thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters, please take a breath - and please refrain from being so clichéd and unoriginal as to send an email or post a comment filled with righteous indignation telling me that if I don't like it here, I should move somewhere else. I get a dozen of them a month, and your sputtering outrage will be more yawn-inducing than watching an E-Canada interview with a bottle of maple syrup.

There are many things I love about my country. I'm grateful that we've finally elected a solid conservative government (note the small "c") who realize the importance of lowering the tax burden on middle class Canadians and corporations, re-vitalizing our long neglected military, mending fences with our American neighbours, and affirming with a clear voice our unwavering commitment to the security of Israel from Islamic extremists like Hamas. The late Liberal government refused to label Hamas a terrorist group until they had blown up enough children to make even John Wayne Gacy squeamish - well, if the great state of Illinois hadn't given him the juice back in '94. The bravery of our soldiers in Afghanistan makes my heart swell with pride, and I believe that we have just about the friendliest folks on the planet. Yet, despite all of this, there are troubling trends occurring in my country. Trends that cause me to pause, finding myself contemplating the impossible: I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

1- The Canadian Human Rights Tribunal: Recently, Dean Steacy, the principal "anti-hate" investigator of the Human Rights Tribunal, said the following; "Freedom of speech is an American concept, so I don't give it any value." Our Government is eroding our right to express individual opinion - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

2- The Alberta Human Rights Commission: The Commission recently ruled that Pastor Stephan Boissoin could no longer speak about certain of his views at the pulpit, privately, or even in a personal email. His crime? Writing a letter to the editor of his local paper that offended someone he didn't even know - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

3 - Madam Justice Suzanne Tessier of the Quebec Superior Court: Justice Tessier allowed a 12 year old to sue her father after he decided to not to allow her to participate in a school trip as punishment for continuing to visit an internet dating site on which she was posting pictures of herself. Justice Tessier ruled that the father had no right to discipline his daughter and forced him to allow her to go on the trip in her written decision. Our government and our courts are now infringing on parental rights - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

4 - Blame America First: In a recent CanWest News Services poll, over 40% of Canadians described Americans as "evil". In Quebec, the number clocked in at an astounding 64%. I have to admit this causes no small amount of cognitive dissonance considering most Canadians blather on about how tolerant we are. After 9/11, former Prime Minister Jean Chretien had the audacity to imply that the 3000 people who were butchered by the Taliban had it coming - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

5 - The Persecution of Mark Steyn: McLean's magazine recently printed an exerpt from Mark Steyn's brilliant book "America Alone", in which he warns of the rising number of honor killings occurring in our own country and the United states by radical Islamic extremists. Enter stage left - The Canadian Human Rights Tribunal. Mark Steyn is now being dragged before the committee for offending the sensibilities of a few people who seem to think that killing your daughter for wearing make-up is just fine and dandy. This may lead Mr. Steyn's illuminating and humorous book being banned in Canada. We are now becoming a country that is stripping away freedom of the press and banning books - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

I can only imagine the can of worms I have opened with this column. I can already see my inbox dripping with outrage and maple syrup. If we don't wake up to what's happening in our own back yard, you may no longer have the privilege of writing in to tell me what a royal ass muncher you think I am. But that's ok...If you're really upset, you can always send a complaint to the Canadian Human Rights Tribunal. They'll shut me down in no time.

In the end, it's of little consecquence. If Obama is elected President, the cradle of liberty will be little more than a carbon copy of our fascist government, and then I'll have no place left to move to anyway.

Anyway, while you're lowering your blood pressure, enjoy the latest from the beautiful Regina Spector, singing The Call.

Cordially

Joe

Weekend Inferno

First off, thank you all for the concern you've expressed over my illness, but really, it was nothing serious. I have not come down with dyspepsia, shingles, or the avian flu. I didn't travel anywhere where you have to boil your water, and I didn't lay a sloppy one on the passenger next to me on a flight back from China. It was a run of the mill case of the flu, so please don't be concerned, and stop sending wreaths to my house - they're starting to rot.

Ever rip the backside of your jeans on casual day at work? I did. I felt a draft. It was the first sign. The second sign, aside from the ear piercing rip, was that some of my colleagues were seeing a lot more of me then they would have cared to. I had to zip off to the store to get a new pair of jeans, which I needed anyway. That's the thing with a favourite pair of jeans - you tend to wear them until they rip like thunder, or blow away like dandelion spores. Not pleasant. Anyway, you may now call me "thunderpants" if you would like.

As I mentioned earlier, I'm working on an Obama piece, but I want it to be air tight, like Barney's Frank's bloated ass, or that lady at the bus stop whose feet are swollen because she's retaining too much water. What makes Obama's past disturbing are not the rodents that are coming out of the woodwork, but the collective and radical beliefs they all hold. Obama seems to be on a daily filibuster express where he's constantly dissociating himself from segregationists, people who still believe in eugenics, and creepy slum lords who are now in the slammer. The Senator from Illinois keeps throwing his hands in the air claiming; "I didn't know these people held these repugnant views". As my new piece will point out, to believe that, the Senator would have to be extremely naive and/or stupid, or a back stabbing liar and con artist. Whether you check box A or B, it casts serious doubt on his fitness to be Commander in Chief. He's also getting sloppy on the stump, and reports are surfacing that he's useless without a teleprompter or prepared remarks. McCain is starting to go in for the kill, and the media have been strangely distancing themselves from their beloved golden boy, which leads me to believe they're sitting on something they're reluctant to throw at him...for now.

Anyway, I've got company coming, and the lovely Miss Claire and I have to get ready to be the half-assed hosts we're famously known for - but before you hit the X, enjoy the hypnotic Regina Spektor singing Samson from her latest album "Begin to Hope"

Have a good weekend.

Cordially

Joe

Blogging by Numbers - The Blog Before the Blogs

As you are now aware, my chest puffing about the site not going dark during my state to state quest through the cradle of liberty was indeed just chest puffing. I can blame it on some essential accessories we forgot to bring, the hectic travel schedule, our near-death battle with an army of pots and pans ninja robots, and the unfortunate incident involving missing the Jersey turnpike 3 times. Truth be told, while these are all legitimate considerations, in the end, we were on vacation and sometimes you have to leave behind the gadgets, laptops, cell phones, blackberries, and all the other whirly gigs that seem forever fused to our persons. Let the blogging by numbers begin!

1 - I sincerely apologize to those who where checking the site regularly for pictures of Claire and I standing with silly grins in front of all of your marvellous and iconic landmarks, but we'll have those for you soon. No one likes to look at other people's vacation pictures anyway. Isn't that on the list of people's top ten pet peeves? Right up there with people who display wood carvings of Dale Earnhardt in their living room, and people who start off letters to the editor with the preface "I don't usually write letters to the editor, but...".

2 - Anyway, lots of things have happened on the political landscape while we were away. It looks like Jonah Goldberg's allusion to smiley faced fascism may be coming to America sooner than you think - and it's name is Barack Obama. If the pixie dust hasn't cleared from your eyes yet, and you've yet to see that Obama's promise of "change" is really just re-hashed 1960's radicalism, you need a bitch slap. And then there's the litany of criminals, eugenics spouting anti-Semitic pastors, and murdering ex-terrorists that Obama has to distance himself from everyday. These were all his dearest friends and closest associates until very recently. All hold radical views, his wife being among the list. We all have a nut or two in our intimate group we call friends; However, few of us have such low moral standards as to call anti-Semites, segregationists, con-artists, and murders best buddies. We'll get to that a little later on this week.

3 - I will write about the trip. The kindness and hospitality of Americans is something that I will forever remember - the quaint little diners and corner stores run by Koreans and other immigrants, with beautiful oriental streamers hanging from the walls, all adorned with American flags at the tail end, signs next to the menus that proclaimed "support our troops", and men and woman so proud that they had sliced out a little piece of America for themselves, that were grateful for every day; The desk where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence; The love and reverence of the people restoring President Madison's home. All are a testament to the beauty and freedom that is America and the American people.

4 - Looks like the New Brunswick Liberal party is finally getting something right, if they are to be believed. Finance minister Victor Boudraeu is talking about lowering the corporate income tax rate to anywhere from 13% to 5%. Such a move - inspired no doubt by consultations with Frank McKenna - would be a boon to the economy and much needed dose of common sense in an otherwise directionless and incompetent administration. Don't hold your breath.

5 - CNN rarely astounds me, but today, during a round table with Wolfe Blitzer about whether or not John McCain's war experience and subsequent captivity as a POW was an asset to the McCain camp over the war on terror, CNN's resident drunken glue sniffer, Jack Cafferty, had the following to say; "Yeah, but what have you done for me lately?" The arrogance and pettiness of this statement is astounding. John McCain is a decorated Vietnam veteran who spent 5 and half years in Vietnam POW camp, refusing to go - despite several opportunities - until every other man in his unit was let go first. Jack Cafferty's claim to fame is leaving the scene of an accident after hitting a cyclist with his car. Now that's courage. To quote Tucker Carlson, Mr Cafferty, you are a drunk and a retard and you'd probably be a wife beater if you had better aim.

Cordially

Joe

Edbama and the Tale of Two Americas

Just last week, Mr. "Two Americas" and former shifty trial lawyer Sen. John Edwards proclaimed he was above the fray and refused to support either Senator Obama or Senator Clinton. Mr Edwards claimed that he would spend his weighty (snicker) "political capital" (snicker) on issues he cares about - the chief among these being, I presume, suing doctors. But lo! Today, in a whip-lash inducing change of heart, Mr Edwards has decided that his "political capital" is still for sale to the highest bidder, and threw his support behind Senator Obama. Mr. Edwards, as you may recall, was the running mate of the effete New England Socialite and former Presidential candidate Senator John Kerry. Why the change of heart? It appears Senator Edwards believes that, and I quote; “There is one man who knows in his heart that it is time to create one America — not two — and that man is Barack Obama.”.

Those of you familiar with Edward's populist shtick will remember his failed presidential campaign slogan of "Two Americas". One half was made up coatless children and legless men living in the backwoods of forgotten America (I am not kidding, he's said this stuff) - the other half was made up of those greedy oil executives, HMO's, and "the rich". Greedy trial lawyers seem to have gotten an exemption and must live in some magical "Third America".

As we all know, Senator Obama has still not announced a running mate, and this is Senator Edwards' subtle way of saying "OOH! OOH!! PICK ME! PICK ME!"

Edwards is a first rate moron and political kryptonite. His support carries about as much weight as a bag of cotton candy. Obama's momentum is slowing down enough without adding the likes of a populist scare monger to his ticket to add any further drag - so naturally, we welcome the news of John Edwards' endorsement.

In other news, my intrepid editor and loving girlfriend Claire and I will be off to Boston, Washington DC, and Virginia starting May 22nd for 7 days. Are we going dark on the site? No I say! We will be providing photos, commentary, and, hopefully, Wolfe Blitzer's kidney in my on going effort to convince the avuncular newscaster of the revenue windfall that would be realized by auctioning the aforementioned kidney on E-Bay in a mad kidney for profit scheme.

Have a great weekend, see you in Virginia.

Cordially

Joe

Oh Canada?

While preparing for work this week, I tuned into a local radio station that was discussing whether there was any useful purpose to be served in playing the Canadian national anthem at hockey games. Several residents phoned in, showing an almost even split between those who thought this was a meaningless tradition, given that most of the players on Canadian hockey teams where drafted from other countries, and others who - admirably, if somewhat clumsily - spoke of the need to preserve tradition in a country that seems hell bent on dismantling what little traditions we have left.

The host, through a clever slight of hand, framed the question in a manner that pigeon holed the parameters of the discussion. The question, as formulated by the host, was actually whether or not the national anthem "inspired the players". Yet, no matter how slipperily the question was framed, the fact that the radio station was even having such a ridiculous discussion is symptomatic of a much larger problem: The lack of cultural identity.

Ask any bloke on the street what it means to him or her to be Canadian, and they will frequently spew forth a litany of ready-to-order items off a check list, most of them declarations about how they are not like Americans. The common version of our watered down notions of national pride boils down to silly tub thumping about how we don't let sick people die because they're poor, or how we don't all carry guns, and of course, the ever annoying lament about how we don't start "useless wars". You know you're in deep trouble when you define your national identity in the negative. Who you are should not be explained in terms of who you are not. If someone where to ask me, "Who are you, Joe, as a person?", and I were to respond, "Well, I'm not a pedophile, and I certainly don't torture animals", it may make you feel safe about Spud and little Johnny, but it speaks very little to what I'm all about. And therein lies in the rub.

In the 1960's we were beginning to engrain in the national psyche what it meant to be Canadian: Honour in combat, the railway that was the bridge that connected this country from the Atlantic to the Pacific, our natural resources, and our pioneering ancestors. But there was a counter movement eager to crush this burgeoning sense of national heritage. It was the progressives that held that patriotism was a dirty word, and insisted we were all hand-holding members of the kumbaya cult of pan-ethnicity. Their leader? The white-on-white wearing progressive hipster Pierre Elliot Trudeau. If America was the melting pot where people of diverse cultures and heritage stood proudly under the banner of a united culture that welcomed inclusion, Canada was to become a bizarre soup in an another type of pot, where the burner was never turned on and it's colourful ingredients were left to sit in stagnant cold water.

Multi-culteralism - the abra-cadabra all encompassing, non-threatening name that was to be the banner under which the most misguided experiments of social engineering was launched. Multi-culteralism frowned at any patriotism of the whole, and encouraged a strange ethnocentric loyality to your nation of origin. The result almost a quarter of a century later are ethnic ghettos where poverty runs rampant in large cities, and entire swaths of the population that do not posess adequate proficiency in english to compete in the job market.

The true Orwellian nightmare of multi-culturism in all its glory is a neferious little group of jackbooted bureaucrats called the Canadian Human Rights Commision. Anyone who doesn't like a magazine article, or feels excluded for whatever reason from some facet of society, can drag magazine editors, writers, artists, priests and even night club owners in front of the commision. Currently, Canadian writer Mark Steyn has been ordered to appear before the council after a complaint was launched by the Canadian Islamic Council over an article that he wrote in Mclean's magazine that warned of the growing threat of radical segments of Islam preaching hatred and intolerence from certain Mosques. They didn't like it. So in the spirit of free speech for all, they intend to haul Mr. Steyn before the tribunal, which may lead to his brilliant cautionary book "America Alone" being banned in Canada. The tribunal has never acquited someone brought before the commitee.

Woodrow Wilson, the first American President to try - but thankfully ultimately fail - to turn America into a Canadian-style welfare state, was a bit more heavy handed. He routinely shut down newspapers, and even had his own personal goon squad at his beck and call to intimidate those who spoke out against the government. Now Canadian citizens are being forced to endure the same type of bullying, albeit under the guise of a "Human Rights Commision".

It's all a bit disheartening that we've reached a point where we are actually debating whether or not we should still sing the national anthem at sporting events. Perhaps soon, such things will be but a memory if the jackbooted goons at the Canadian Rights Tribunal have their way.

Cordially

Joe

A Hateful Little Man

Let's start with the customary apology for the lapse in blogging. As regular readers know, I have the sickly constitution of Doc Holliday, but none of his legendary propensity for overall stamina. I am on the mend from the attack of the unknown parasite that made my stomach feel like it was being mortared by the Viet-Cong, and am slowly returning to the world of those who function with a minimal degree of cognisance.

I had initially intended for this blog post to be an acidic condemnation of that smarmy little anti-Semite, former President Jimmy Carter, but I don't believe the buffoon deserves the effort it takes to tap my fingers on my keyboard. I had held off calling President Carter an anti-Semite for years, as I had done with Pat Buchanan, but there comes a time when your words, actions, and the people you keep company with define who you are and your core belief system. Those who have read his hateful little tome, "Peace Not Apartheid", will be well aware of the outlandish claims that Carter makes in the book, including the old paranoid canard about Jews controlling the world economy. Even Kenneth Stein, former director of the CARTER center, had this to say about the book;

“President Carter's book on the Middle East, a title too inflammatory to even print, is not based on unvarnished analyses; it is replete with factual errors, copied materials not cited, superficialities, glaring omissions, and simply invented segments.”

“The history and interpretation of the Arab-Israeli conflict is already drowning in half-truths, suppositions, and self-serving myths; more are not necessary.”

President Carter has officially gone off the reservation, and has lost his priviledge of being taken seriously in civil discourse.

Have a great weekend.

Cordially

Joe

E To Da C

E. coli ( kl)

A bacillus Escherichia coli; a bacillus normally found in the human gastrointestinal tract and existing as numerous strains, some of which are responsible for diarrheal diseases. Other strains have been used experimentally in molecular biology.

The Oxford Medical Dictionary

"You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"

Ebeneezer Scrooge, A Christmas Carole

Diarrheal diseases. No sh#$ - pardon the pun. How about all the fury of hell wrapped up in the post apocalyptic wasteland of my digestive tract. E. Coli - or E to da C for all you aspiring hip-hop artists out there - is not pretty. Well, explosive gas and diarrhea that could only be dreamed up by the Farrelly brothers is bad enough, but the most gut wrenching of the entire affair is that providing the samples is an at-home job. 5 samples needed in total. As the doctor explained how the process works (I'll spare you the details), a look of barely concealable horror crossed my face, a look that was not lost on Claire who started to giggle out of nervousness and at the priceless comic expression that was etched on my visage. I was trying to suppress the explosion of giggles but lost it when the doctor enthusiastically suggested that she had some sample collectors that contained a special spoon to make the process easier. That was it. I lost it. Claire and I had this subconscious connective moment where we remembered this passage from Martin Luther's diary about how he claimed that the devil would appear to him at night and he would fling feces from his bed pan at him. Perhaps his aim and general hygiene would have been greatly improved had he had one those nifty little spoons.

Anyway...I'm out of commission for a few days. Once I deliver my bag of poop to the hospital (not flaming, though that would be awesome) I will await the results to see if I have been struck by the dreaded E. Coli. Until then, I'll just sit back and sh.....

Cordially

Joe

Night of the Hooligans!

Claire's stuffed bunny was lying on the floor, bathed in shards of glass. In the haze of the moment, I had a strange image of the cops drawing a chalk line around poor fluffy bunny, one of the victims of this random crime. Last night, my downtown Main Street studio apartment was vandalized. By vandalized, I mean some drunken moron thought that a night of drinking just isn't fun until you cap off the evening by smashing in the window of a stranger's apartment at 2:30 in the morning. Claire was much more prudent than I, and immediately called 911, begging me come back into the bedroom. I stormed into the kitchen (the "crime scene") and contemplated whether or not I should run out of the apartment and try to see if there was any sign of the scum bags (the "perps"). Glad I didn't in retrospect. The only weapons I had on hand were candles, a hard cover book about the progressive roots of fascism, and some butter knives - so unless the vandals wanted to read by candle light as I slathered them in marmalade while waiting for the cops to come, my plan to chase after the window kickers seemed rather ill conceived.

The cops were polite and efficient once they arrived (40 minutes after the 911 call. The station is located 2 minutes away). There were several anonymous tips called in regarding the incident; all contradicted the number of assailents and the ethnicity of the attackers. One guy called in to say he saw two stocky white guys kicked in the window. Another person called in to say that it was an African American male on a crazed window smashing rampage down the street with 2 to 3 scrawny white guys tagging along for the fun. Either way, I doubt I'll be getting a call from Cold Case Files anytime soon.

While it took the cops about an hour to finally kick things into gear, the folks at Economy Glass had the window cleaned and re-installed in about 25 minutes. I was recently givin an excellent description of the suspects by someone who was nearby the scene last night. I called the Codiac RCMP to give them the details. They told me someone would call me back on Thursday night. Probably too busy tasering squeegie people to be pestered with an actual crime.

It pains me to criticize law enforcement, as I support them as a good citizen, and on principle as a conservative. But time and time again, they continue to live up to every stereotype that their detractors paint them with. Only 2 months ago, a crazed man began to knock at my doors and windows at 4am. He screamed and kicked for 15 minutes before an officer arrived. I was informed that the lunatic screaming and kicking at my apartment just wanted to use the phone, and that I was over-reacting. The guy got a free ride home in a cab after he and the cop swapped jokes on the sidewalk. Late last year I watched as an officer man-handled some scrawny teenage kid with a big mouth at the Big Stop in Salisbury, throwing him violently against the counter when he could have been easily subdued by the 4 officers on the scene. The list goes on, but I can only honestly attest to what I have seen with my own two eyes.

Perhaps kicked in glass and people relentlessy beating on your doors and windows don't qualify as immediate action items to our local police force given the rising rate of more serious drug-related crimes, but when officers begin to pick and choose what crimes are more egregious and worthy of attention, they risk falling into a dangerous trap. As Rudy Giuliani - former Presidential candidate and the mayor who cleaned up New York - once said; "Murder and graffiti are two vastly different crimes, but they are part of the same continuum, and a climate that tolerates one is more likely to tolerate the other.”

Cordially

Joe