Just
Another Gigolo
I met him in a
dream, a man who
in a weak moment
of confessional
honesty, called
himself an intellectual
gigolo, and who,
strangely enough,
was speaking on
the radio as I was
dreaming, talking
on CBC’s Ideas
that was repeated
at 4 in the morning;
and in my dream,
I had words with
him, affirming his
characterization
that he was a gigolo
of ideas, having
followed his varied
career for years,
who walked away
from Harvard
to save the
Liberals from the vile
Conservatives but
instead decimated
the Liberal Party
to third-party status
when he became leader
of the Official
Opposition and
forced an election
on the people, a
gigolo who provided
his service of ideas
to the party that
lured him from the
halls of academia
in the hope
that he would save them
like the leader
who will be known
forever for saying,
“There is no place
for the state
in the bedrooms of the
nation,” just another
gigolo of ideas
whose son is now
the Premier serving
the country with
his own ideas, a soapy
brand of political
correctness and weird
fixation with climate
change, a young
man who aspires
to be like his Jesuit
trained father
but who is more like his
bipolar well-intentioned
mother and
says one thing but
does another.
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