As a result I wasn’t aware of who Heather Mallick was ….., or some of the insane drivel this broad writes about in her columns!
(She was brought to my attention when I got one of those ‘newsletters’ from the P.C. Party today that put me hip to what she was up to!)
I couldn’t believe it!
Look kids, there is no sense in adding my voice to the uproar, so I am just going to re-print some of the stuff other people have been saying about her in the recent past.
First Jonathan Kay of the national Post!
Jonathan Kay on Heather Mallick’s bizarre obsession with feminist self-pity and bad sex!
Several people have emailed me a link to Heather Mallick’s column about Rob Ford in today’s Toronto Star, claiming that it’s her most disgusting piece of writing ever. I’ll admit that there’s a strong argument for this: Mallick’s column is based around the idea that voting in Rob Ford as Toronto’s mayor would somehow be akin to a desperate female bar-fly having a blind-drunk one-night stand with an oaf she meets at closing time. Much of the column is composed of a sort of reverie in which Mallick describes this hypothetical drunken episode. She gets back to Ford in the last few paragraphs, but it feels tacked on.
I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before Star readers get bored with the three, interrelated obsessions that infuse almost all of Mallick’s writing: (1) feminist self-pity; (2) a curdled hatred of the men (always white, often poor and unlettered) who allegedly scheme to oppress women; and (3) a creepy fascination with male sexual dysfunction, which she imagines to be the cause of everyone’s sorrow, metaphorically or otherwise.
Several people have emailed me a link to Heather Mallick’s column about Rob Ford in today’s Toronto Star, claiming that it’s her most disgusting piece of writing ever. I’ll admit that there’s a strong argument for this: Mallick’s column is based around the idea that voting in Rob Ford as Toronto’s mayor would somehow be akin to a desperate female bar-fly having a blind-drunk one-night stand with an oaf she meets at closing time. Much of the column is composed of a sort of reverie in which Mallick describes this hypothetical drunken episode. She gets back to Ford in the last few paragraphs, but it feels tacked on.
I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before Star readers get bored with the three, interrelated obsessions that infuse almost all of Mallick’s writing: (1) feminist self-pity; (2) a curdled hatred of the men (always white, often poor and unlettered) who allegedly scheme to oppress women; and (3) a creepy fascination with male sexual dysfunction, which she imagines to be the cause of everyone’s sorrow, metaphorically or otherwise.
Seeing Justin Trudeau’s marvelous family and his ease
with fellow humans brings back a world of plausibility, sanity, arts
and science, and good cheer…………. Liberal Party Leader Justin Trudeau is
popular. Why wouldn’t he be? But what makes some politicians attractive
and others repellent? (Harper? -Ed.)….. …… Trudeau is intelligent,
humane and self-confident, a Québécois who is devoted to Canadian unity
and has the most marvelous family: a sophisticated career-minded wife,
Sophie Grégoire, and three adorable young children with the interesting
names that only confident parents bestow: Xavier James, Ella-Grace and
Hadrien. He has an English degree from McGill, a UBC teaching degree and
taught for several years. He has his father’s intellect and wit, while
being more down to earth, and his mother’s good looks and warmth. And
the guy, a Montrealer, can wear a suit………… If you’re reading this
online, check out the gif of Justin and Sophie dancing in a hallway just
before his big convention speech in 2013. This is how these two shake
off their spare energy; they dance like nobody’s watching. But
everyone’s watching and they like what they see.
Now how about Stephen Harper:
What do Stephen Harper and his wife do before a big
moment? Glare at each other? He yells at a trembling staffer, she
strokes her cats. At some point, a line was crossed and Harper now emits
the kind of toxicity a politician can’t kill. It’s like a house where
meth was cooked. That house is done………… But it was demonizing scientists
and killing the census that made people think of Harper as
primitive……………….. Perhaps it was Harper’s dead sociopathic eyes or the
way he campaigned with pre-selected audiences from behind a metal
fence………………“I see the sheen,” he wrote, “the electronic calm, those tiny
expressionless eyes. I glimpse the outlines of the cloaking device and I
instinctively recoil, like a baby tasting mould.”…………………. Once you
reach this point, even people who find Conservative keywords erotic
—”F-35,” “immigrants,” “elite” “taxpayer dollars” and weirdly, “sipping”
— look at Harper skeptically ….. The recent break-in at Trudeau’s
Ottawa house while he was away campaigning was another crucial moment.
Normal people imagined the scene — a note left on a pile of large knives
in the kitchen while Grégoire, a nanny, two children and a baby slept
upstairs — and went ashen………………………True Harperites talked sternly about
training one’s wife to maintain the perimeter. Harper’s hair was
talking.
FINI
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