Tag Canada

Canadian Bacon Cooking?

Contrary to this picture, CBC does not stand for “Canadian Bacon Cooking”, it stands for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, which celebrates its 75th anniversary this week.

This page from the CBC site looks back at the evolution of the CBC logo from the 1940s to the NBC peacock ripoff of the mid-1960s to the famed “gem” icon of the 1970s that remains the basis of the present logo design.

Oh, and enjoy this video clip of a CBC documentary from the early 1960s explaining Canada’s critical role in NORAD:

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Now Who Will Save The Canadian Kitties?

The leader of the New Democratic Party of Canada, Jack Layton, passed away yesterday at the age of 61. The NDP scored a huge election upset this past spring, winning 103 seats in the Canadian House and practically eliminating the parliamentary presence of the Liberal Party, which governed Canada for many years. But Layton did not have the opportunity to make much of his position as Leader of the Opposition, stepping aside due to his illness only a few weeks after elections. Layton is being unilaterally lauded by supporters and rivals in Canada. He had two qualities not often found in national-level politicians in any country: sincerity and intelligence. The people of Canada are poorer for the loss of such a leader.

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The Cruelty Of Stephen Harper

Not content simply to EAT every kitten in Canada, Prime Minister Stephen Harper has gone so far as to sign up for Google Plus so he can taunt the good people of the Great White North with pictures of kitties. See for yourself. In the very first photo, poor little Stanley begs for his life, knowing that he could soon be an appetizer. And with opposition leader Jack Layton laid low by cancer, who can stop this evil, evil man?

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Call Him Anything But “Late To Dinner”

Canadian Prime Minister and noted “cat lover” Stephen Harper has set out on his nefarious plan to eat every cat in Canada, just as I predicted on the day of his election victory a few short weeks ago. He has acquired his first sacrificial victim and is presently taunting the people of Canada by demanding that they pick a name for the kitty before he devours it live on national television during the presentation of the Stanley Cup. So far, the most popular suggestions have been “Stanley”, “Majority”, “Liberal Pussy” and “Stew”. As usual, a group of angry protestors from the Bloc Québécois are expressing outrage and demanding he call it “Poutine”. NDP Leader Jack Layton spluttered admirably for a moment or two then returned to stroking his fine mustache.

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Beaver Patrol

I guess it must have been the moose’s day off.

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In Heaven There Is No Beer, Eh

Another brief update on the atheist bus ad campaign. Spurred by the unexpected popularity of the campaign in the U.K., atheist and humanist groups in Canada have launched identical (but unrelated) campaigns in Toronto and Montreal.

In Toronto, the campaign is being promoted by the Freethought Association of Canada (at that first link you can see photos of the actual buses, not my McKenzie-fied version). Other Canadian cities such as Halifax and (surprisingly) Vancouver have already rejected the ads. Meanwhile, the Association humaniste du Québec are making their own bid for Montreal (longer story, but in French only, here).

Here in the United States of Jeebus, I guess it’s likely to be a while before you’ll see that particular message gracing the side of a bus. But the Boston Examiner reports that the Freedom From Religion Foundation will be featuring their own bus sign campaign in Madison, WI, featuring quotations from such famous atheists as Mark Twain, Emily Dickinson, Clarence Darrow, and Butterfly McQueen. They’ve had some successes and some failures with similar campaigns on billboards in various cities, and they caused quite a brouhaha in Washington State over holiday displays in the state capitol last year.

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I’m Not Sure But…

…I think this software might be Canadian, eh. Better check the “Aboot” screen.

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Blame Canada!

Screw Iran! Guess who we’re invading next!

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Good Day, Eh?

Chocolate Glazed Donut

So, a week or two ago, I read this amusing piece in the Toronto Star that wants us to believe that the Canadian National Food Item is the doughnut. Now, I happen to know that the doughnut was, in fact, invented in Rockport, Maine by a fellow named Captain Hanson Gregory, so I’m not exactly sure how it got to be the Canadian equivalent of apple pie, but we do have a lot of people of Canadian descent living in Maine (although most of them are French Canadian, and the “national food” of Quebec is poutine, but I digress.).

Now this week, the story is that “Canadian” is the code word that some less-than-enlightened folks have substituted for the offensive racial slur “nigger”. Over at MetaFilter, a couple of people have said that this originated in restaurants not so much as a way to disguise a racial slur but because Canadians and blacks both have reputations as being poor tippers…and that may well be true, but it’s disingenuous to suggest that it’s not meant in a derogatory fashion. Especially now that it seems that the term has slipped into the wild and is used by people other than waitresses.

So now, the race-baiters in the presidential primaries (and not just Bill Clinton, either) need to decide if they’re going to start a whispering campaign that Barack Obama is really a Muslim, or if they’re going to start insinuating that he’s a Canadian. Or that he likes doughnuts…chocolate-glazed…and Molson beer. Mmm, beer and doughnuts. Maybe that will help Obama nail down the critical Simpsons fanboy vote.

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Setting The Bar Sufficiently Low

How hard do you really have to work to win this distinction: “The Best Coffee In Saskatoon”

I suppose I could be totally misjudging the whole thing — it’s possible that Saskatoon is a veritable hotbed of coffee shop competition, each barista more ruthless is his pursuit of perfection than the next. Maybe the night-time streets of the Saskatchewan capital are filled with caffeine vampires haunting shop after shop, downing shot after shot of obsidian-colored blood. The mornings are greeted each day with the acrid smell of coffee beans roasting in oven after oven, and the average Sasaktoonian can pick out his favorite shop’s premium roast by the merest hint of the aroma lingering under his nostrils for the briefest moment.

Stranger things have happened, I guess.

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