1) Confess error in removing the arts funding in Quebec. I mean, who cares if a number of Quebec soi-disante artistes are swanning around Europe on the Canadian taxpayer's dime? This action, I assured him, cost him the Quebec votes that could have resulted in a majority. I mean, could you not have waited until AFTER the election?
2) Confess further error in removing the political funds from the opposition parties. Yes, they are rats, and usually run and hide, but even a rat will fight when cornered. Forgot that, eh Stephen?
3) If it was not you, whoever suggested these two things should be fired immediately.
3) After accomplishing these little exercises in humility, make a real effort to get together with the new leader of what is now a rather bedraggled Natural Governing Party. Michael Ignatieff is, in my opinion, even further right than you are, so it shouldn't be difficult. And the current economic mess provides the perfect excuse. So get with it.
Well, the man didn't hang up.
At this point, the Bishop of the local parish dropped round for lunch.My chef, Giacomo, had prepared some wonderful quiches, washed down with a stunning Chardonnay. The Bishop was appreciative. What had prompted his visit was his awareness of a Foundation established by my late husband, Lord Strunsky, entitled The Creative Challenge. This Foundation provided grants to young artists and writers in various countries who were finding it impossible to crack their local Arts Mafias. (In Canada, this is called the Canada Council). The Bishop was attempting to fund the creation of a new stained glass window in a small but historic church, Our Lady of the Sorrowful Chains. He wanted the window to commemorate the martyrdom of St Perpetua, an early daughter of Holy Mother Church who had seen the Light and was determined to walk into it, aided and abetted by some gladiator or other.
I had no quarrel with this request, other than to make the point that all too many women were looked upon as victims, and that the Church should at least be giving some thought to bringing the Magdalene into a more favourable place in the canon. Ignoring the Bishop's blanched face, I did insist that there be some kind of competition to select the artist, and that I be one of the judges. One must do what one can to help the unknown become known, when possible.
I should add that while funding artistic endeavour is one thing, funding organized religion per se is quite another. Lord Strunsky was adamant on that point, and I agree. The historical record of organized religion is appalling in terms of vicious behaviour and lives lost -- the "my sacred stone is better than your sacred stone" type of thing. We really have to grow up.
The Bishop was hardly out the door when George Lucas (of all people) dropped by for tea. George was seeking backing for a possible film focussing on Anne McCaffrey's Dragons of Pern series. Since I was enamoured of old Ramoth and the versatile Ruth, I ageed to forward the odd million or so, depending on other contributors and an appropriate number of equity points. (I had done very well indeed on George's Star Wars efforts). He enjoyed the scones I had provided (or Giacomo had, to be fair) and amused me by casting the Canadian political scene in terms of that epic. The Jedis had all fled to the south (although one might be re-appearing there on January 20th) and the northern Empire was now in the hands of Darth Vader (Ignatieff) with the Evil Emperor still lurking in the shadows, man by the name of Chretien.
"And Stephen Harper," I asked, "what of him?"
"Oh, that's easy," replied George. "He's Ice Planet Thoth."
Rimshot.
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