Dateline: TORONTO—Toronto’s citizens are mortified by the world’s mockery of their Mayor Rob Ford for his many scandals, such as his admitting to having smoked crack cocaine while in office, because they fear Toronto will lose its status as the world’s most boring big city.
“We just want everything to go back the way it was,” said one Torontonian, “when no one cared about Toronto. We just want to fly under the world’s radar so we can keep living in quiet desperation. Is that too much to ask? To not have a crazy circus come to town, so I can get on with wasting my life?
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“What we need is a robot with no personality, like our Prime Minister Stephen Harper. Now there’s a leader for you: hair like a piece of Lego, never offends anyone, never rocks the boat. We need an empty suit as our leader to reflect our blissful lack of any worthwhile culture.”
Another Torontonian is even more candid. “Rob Ford broke his contract with us. He’s supposed to lie to the people about absolutely everything. That’s what we elect them for, right? But Ford can’t stop speaking his mind. Doesn’t he know that politicians are supposed to be the cream of the crop? Truth-telling children grow up to be adults who lie constantly to themselves and to others, and then they choose the most pathological of the liars among them and elect them to lead the people to disaster. That’s how we get from A to B.
“I mean, sure, Ford lied for a while about smoking crack. He did his best to be a politician there. But he’s constantly gaffing: it’s one thing to have no respect whatsoever for the liberals on the Toronto City Council or for the downtown elitists or even for the institution of Canadian government. But as any kind of executive, surely you’re supposed to keep your grudges a secret so you can more easily backstab your enemies.”
However, Mr. Ford shows no sign of being less forthright with his opinions. “I’m no phony or snob,” the mayor said in an improvised press conference. “I say what I want, just like any average Joe, and if you don’t like it you can go fuck yourself. Especially you, John,” Mr. Ford said, pointing at a CBC reporter.
“Right now you’re taking notes so the liberal pundits at CBC can make fun of everything I do. Let me tell you something: the CBC is a bunch of pussies. They have the nerve to call themselves ‘Canada’s number one news network’—even though they wouldn’t survive without the taxpayer subsidies. What a bunch of flaming girly-men and feminazis!
“Now, I’ve got a lot of work to do, lowering taxes so the blue collar folks around here don’t get raped by Toronto’s stuck-up socialists who have their heads up their asses, eating cheese while riding around on their bicycles like it’s the 19th century. Hello! Get yourself a car or get the hell off the road and take your airy-fairy, artsy-fartsy nanny state with you!”
The mayor proceeded to bowl over a bevy of journalists and cameramen, landing especially hard on the CBC reporter, whom he sat on in the confusion.
Mr. Ford’s psychiatrist, Dr. Rudolph Hornswoggler, says “People roll their eyes when Ford calls himself an average guy, because he’s—you know—a morbidly obese multimillionaire. But according to my diagnosis, the mayor is an avatar of the Id, like Rabelais’s bawdy character, Gargantua.
“All of us have embarrassing unconscious desires, but we learn to repress them to get on as civilized adults. Ford’s having none of that. He has gargantuan appetites, because he embodies what we think of as the worst in all of us. Thus, he’s an everyman, after all.”