by FRANCIS GRECOROMACOLLUDEN, Alternate Reality News Service National Politics Writer
It seems like a simple question. “What does government do, mommy?” But, of course, answering the question is complicated, not least because I couldn’t be your mommy because I’m a man. Doesn’t the “I” in Francis kind of give it away?
Rephrasing the question as “What does government do, daddy?” doesn’t help. I’m not your daddy – I have no children. Not by choice, but that’s a discussion for another time. I am a family friend who has decided to use you as a cute means of introducing my article.
“What does government do, family friend who has decided to use me as a cute means of introducing my article?” That’s actually an easy question to answer: the Canadian government sits for one week to pass a bill containing all of the legislation for that year.
The legislation is known as an “omnibus bill.” Omnibus literally means “all bus” or “bus containing all.” Imagine a bus so big that it could take everybody in a city to where they need to go at the same time. An omnibus is something like that, only without the hiphop leaking from passengers’ earbuds and the dirty glares.
“What does the government do for the rest of the year?” the child, who clearly has a different sense of the meaning of introducing an article than I do, asks. It varies. Some politicians stay in Ottawa to enjoy the city’s nightlife. Some spend the rest of their time working in their ridings to get away from Ottawa’s nightlife. A few take up a hobby, like bribe-taking or taxidermy. The important thing is that they keep busy, because a politician with free time is a recipe for disaster.
“But, how are our democratically elected officials supposed to be able to properly debate and amend laws when they come in one large package and there is so little time for scrutiny?” the child, a regular seven year-old Clarence Darrow, asks. Well, obviously, that’s why you should elect decisive speed-readers to office.
“Isn’t that a perversion of the democratic process?” Not in the sense – “There can be no clash of ideas helping shape good policy.” You aren’t taking into account – “It seems to me that the Prime Minister has enormous power to shape the law with little effective oversight.”
I finally understood the old saying that journalists should never work with children or animals.
It’s true that, since omnibus bills became the norm, strange laws have managed to sneak through Parliament. Only last year, for instance, an omnibus bill contained a change in regulations mandating all government bathrooms to contain digital toilet paper. “This is not intended to monitor private chit chat,” Solicitor General Ivor Bangstache stated. “We force government workers to wear flag pins on their lapels for that. No, this is just to fulfill the government’s promise to clean up government!”
Or, the law passed in an omnibus bill four years ago that mandated that every computer sold in Canada should contain a Clifford Chip. This hardware monitors activity on a computer; when it comes across keywords (including terror, bomb or spasmodic), a big red dog appears on the user’s computer screen and say things like, “Creating fear of violence for political ends is bad” and “Do your children know what you do in your spare time?” Critics of the measure said it would find and punish innocent horror fiction writers, film critics and Multiple Sclerosis sufferers, but by the time they discovered it, the law had already been in effect for over six months. When the law was described as “draconian,” Public Safety Minister Nash Crebulon responded: “Naah. We don’t find our legislation in Harry Potter books – we write it ourselves!”
The less said about the law forcing couples to smear Nutella over their genitals as a form of contraception, the better. The odd thing about this is that, although several people have been arrested for contravening this law, nobody can actually find it in any of the omnibus bills passed in the last six years, including the Conservative government that passed it. Constitutional scholars are having a field day.
One activity that all politicians seem to do when Parliament is not in session is fundraise. Since they have four years to raise money for their re-election campaigns, it should come as no surprise that 97 per cent of incumbents have won their seats in the past 20 years; the other three per cent either died or had video of their drooling apple sauce down their chins become YouTube sensations.
“That doesn’t seem fair, does it?” the child, whom I thought had lost interest, returned.
Who do I look like, ferking Mister Rogers? Go ask your mother!