I realize, sir, that it must be hard to read stuff from Don Martin and Jeffrey Simpson, saying that you’re in a big bind and all because you decided not to whip the upcoming vote in favour of dismantling the gun registry. After all, the natural instinct of a New Democrat such as yourself is to automatically oppose any Harper government initiative, and this particular one is so well-identified with Harper’s attitude on government that to be portrayed as being in alignment with them is the stuff that makes your social circle in Toronto spit out their morning lattes in indignation.

That said, I think you’re doing the right thing, allowing the MPs from the NDP’s rural block to support the registry’s demise. It’s rather sophisticated of you to realize that your MPs don’t just answer to you, but also to the constituencies that allowed them to enter your caucus. Constituencies that also happen, because they’re rural and therefore have a more intimate understanding of firearms, to think of the registry as a redundant waste of time.

I also applaud your understanding, in this case, of the need to perpetuate Parliamentary tradition. After all, this is a private member’s bill, and it’s always been the convention that votes on private bills are free ones, not to be whipped. It’s a dangerous innovation that Mr. Ignatieff has introduced, don’t you think, of ordering the vote on this to be whipped. It says something about the lack of trust that the Waffle has, in the rural part of his caucus as well as the constituents they represent; it’s quite plain that proponents of the registry have never been able to sell its merits properly, and so an inexperienced parliamentarian must resort to a whipped vote to avoid an embarrassing appearance of mutiny. All it really shows, Mr. Layton, is that you’re a much better leader, having more faith in the wisdom and needs of your caucus than Mr. Ignatieff does in his.

Oh, and that bit about “salt in the wound“? I wouldn’t put too much credence in that, that’s just headline exaggeration. I’m sure you realize by now that any hope of a ruling coalition with the Liberals is not about to happen — and certainly not while Mr. Ignatieff is the Opposition leader.

So I’d advise you to have good cheer, and save that energy that you’d like to spend denouncing the gun registry’s end for those issues where the Harper government has really fallen down — failing to revise policy for new veterans, ignoring management of on-reserve First Nations, refusing to re-visit the Afghanistan issue, that sort of thing.

Well, the WaffleBus Tour is now in its wrapping-up stages, and while I wouldn’t call it a spectacular success (of the type that the federal Liberals are desperate for), neither would a fair-minded person say that it’s been a disaster. (Let’s face it: Stephen Harper is going to get into more trouble with his “I make the rules” comment than Iggy will for his “Canada Isn’t Australia” retort.)

So now we’ve got September and the return of the House to look forward to, and given the sort of coverage that Ignatieff’s gotten (what I’d characterize as skeptically positive), I think it’s time to do another poll. Let’s see how his touring adventure has affected how people think he’s going to do in September, right?

It’s pretty much a given these days that whenever someone of a conservative bent enjoys even the slightest whiff of popular success, Heather Mallick is going to be wailingly upset about it. And of course these days everyone’s writing about how Rob Ford looks to be a shoo-in for mayor, which makes today’s offering by Ms. Mallick almost inevitable.

There are a few passages, of course, where Ms. Mallick unveils her true fear:

Voters, they’re like babies. They don’t change, can’t change. They repeatedly swallow buttons and emit eternal rivers of drool.

Actually that analogy is wrong. Babies are canny. They have a deep drive toward self-preservation (this explains smiling and gurgling) and they know where their interests lie. If they could choose parental units, they’d choose wise, patient ones with an understanding of the GTA’s transit needs, the importance of libraries, trees and good architecture, what keeps a city functioning and just how far you can push unions.

There’s a certain condescension being shown here, of course: if they could choose parental units. It probably doesn’t occur to her that rational voters would choose people with, say, a Clarksonesque attitude towards cars, traffic and speed, or a Boris Johnsonian scheme towards reforming transit in favour of the car driver, instead of ardent folks with a passion and vision towards changing the world.

Ms. Mallick then fumbles around trying to figure out how people could identify with politicians like Ford and, in comparison, like the former President “W” Bush. How, she asks, could people believe that Bush would be good company in a bar, since he’s an ex-alcoholic who doesn’t drink? The fact that bars serve ginger ale, cola, soft drinks and “virgin” cocktails doesn’t seem to have occurred to her.

And she concludes with the ultimate condescending elitist remark: “It’s not Ford’s fault. It’s us. What is the matter with Torontonians?”

Since I don’t live in Toronto, it’s not for me to say whether or not there’s something actually wrong with Torontonians, but it does occur to me that a politician who behaves like a member of the “ruling class” — which, apparently, Toronto municipal pols have done to an extent that would horrify even a Chrétien Liberal — is going to have a hard time attracting votes compared with a pol who doesn’t. It also occurs to me that screaming “What’s wrong with you dumb babies?” is, in all probability, not going to help your cause if your preference is politicians willing to keep the status quo.

If Ms. Mallick’s attitude truly represents that of the Left in Toronto, then folks might be tempted to vote for Ford — just to show the Left that some attitude adjustment on their part is in proper order.

I suppose it’s something special, being the last to get something. In my case, the Apple Store on Rideau Street happened to get in a shipment of iPhone 4s, and to my amazement, when I called them up this afternoon, they hadn’t sold out in an hour.

So I took off from work as early as I could, and made my way to Rideau Centre. The demand for the iPhone 4 is still pretty heavy, because the store lineup stretched across three stores and into a side corridor.

Ten minutes after I got into line, two Apple Store employees started counting up heads. When they were done, one of them said, “I have to let you know that we’re officially sold out.”

He then explained, after the lineup had finished their short groaning, that they had enough units for most people in the lineup — and the cutoff point was four people in front of me. “We’re still doing a count of the units, though,” he finished, “so if you wait about 10 minutes, I’ll have a final answer for you.”

The woman in front of me had a mixture of impatience and despair. She was getting the iPhone as an upgrade for her son, in time for school. I suggested that she stick around — the cutoff point could possibly extend to include those of us in the back, or move up to exclude more people. At this point I was privately betting on the latter, but you never know.

And sure enough, patience was rewarded. The employees returned and said, “Everybody from this point forward will be able to get an iPhone.” And they pointed to a spot behind my back.

And so. I have successfully upgraded from a Motorola voice-only KRZR flip phone to an iPhone. I’ve transferred a 2 GB playlist of music onto it, and downloaded a word processing app as well as some apps that could be of assistance for travelling and blogging. I’ve never actually used a mobile unit like this for data work, so this promises to be a new experience for me.

Oh, and about the Handgrip of Death? I’ve slipped the iPhone into a gel sleeve, and that should cure that problem. Still not sure if I need the Invisible Shield yet.

There are a lot of very good reasons why Canadian Tories should read Britain’s Guardian website, and not just because it’s a chance to gloat at the British left’s ignorance of Canada. It’s because, due to certain similarities in the political climate, some analyses of current British politics also have applicability to Canadian politics.

Case in point: this column by Jackie Ashley, which while poking a sharp stick at the infection-ailing British Labour Party, also offers some insight into what may ail current Canadian politics. Allow me to quote:

The biggest tone change in politics has been the transition from the raw warfare of the latter days of New Labour towards the apparently collegiate and good-humoured attitude of the coalition.

It was never “all about Gordon”; it was about the demeanour of ministers who seemed to feel they had a right to rule, and thought their opponents contemptible. People won’t have that any more, a truth that will remain even when the coalition becomes seriously unpopular.

Humour, self-deprecation, owning up to mistakes and being flexible in your thinking – all in.

This analysis isn’t just UK-specific, you realize. If you think about it, if there’s one thing the Harper Government lacks, it’s a sense of humour. And I’m not talking about the type that makes fun of the Official Opposition. I’m talking about the type that takes two steps back, looks at the process as a whole, and proclaiming its absurdity even as everyone wades back in.

British politicians of all stripes are very good at this. If you think This Hour Has 22 Minutes was innovative in getting politicians to conspire in their own ridicule, think again; the Brits have been doing it for ages. If you get a chance, pop onto YouTube and look for shows like Have I Got News For You, where politicians expose themselves to oral japery from some of the wittiest and cutting-edge political commentators. We’re talking about completely unscripted banter here; you need a very healthy ego and a willingness to bleed your ego in order to not look like a complete berk once the show’s aired.

There are a few snippets of this attitude in Canada. Monte Solberg, for example. Tony Clement’s Twitterfeed. But you very rarely see that sort of thing out of Stephen Harper, and he’s actually the one who needs it the most.

I’m not normally one to pay attention to Toronto municipal politics; I gather from my Twitter feed that some fat middle-aged guy named Rob Ford has become a conservative darling, who’s running to become mayor of Toronto. Which means there must be something wrong with him, because who in their right mind would want to become the leader of Ego City Canada?

So I initially found the twitter stuff about him annoying, but today I have to admit he’s starting to earn my respect, mainly due to his response to this story.

You’d probably expect that, when confronted with an incident from his past as serious as this, to withdraw from the mayoral race in shame and disgrace. Ever since the fall of Senator Gary Hart, that’s about what we’ve come to expect from “pols with a past.” Certainly his rivals would call for it, veneering their call with the syrupy bromide that “it’s the decent thing to do.”

Not this guy.

“I truly believe this election is not about mistakes I made 11 1/2 years ago, by me or by any other candidate,” Mr. Ford went on. “I am not perfect. I have never claimed to be perfect. But I believe this is a city that needs strong leadership.”

There are quite a few reasons why this revelation shouldn’t derail Mr. Ford’s campaign. The main one is that he’s held public office, and been re-elected, since the incident was resolved; when it comes to being mayor, the track record in office matters far more than an incident in his past.

The other reason has to do with his reaction: Mr. Ford gave the impression of being honest about his past, acknowledging the incident, regretting it, and continuing on anyway. This is, by today’s standards, the right way to handle a potentially damaging incident of the past; if you’re prepared to defend yourself, the less interested the voters will be in punishing you for your indiscretions.

Word of advice to Mr. Ford’s opponents: I’d let the matter drop, if I were you. Try to use this to disconnect Mr. Ford from what you think is a family-values, social conservative base, and the voters may start asking questions about your youthful misadventures. You wouldn’t like that, now, would you?

You may remember, a while back, that I ran a poll asking how Michael Ignatieff would screw up his WaffleBus tour. The overwhelming response was that he would say something stupid that would haunt his political career. Yesterday’s remark comparing Canada favourably with Australia would seem to qualify. Right? Well the point is worth examining.

Here’s the statement quoted:

This is Canada, not Australia. That means Canada has principles, the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, our international obligations.

The implication here is that Canada has certain things that make it superior, that Australia . . . well, doesn’t. And he names three specific qualities.

First, principles. We’ll interpret that word as meaning founding principles, as in something in their constitution that sums up their character. As it turns out, there’s an interesting essay by John Kilcullen comparing our political systems, and its thesis is something the Waffle might have difficulty swallowing: because Australia’s confederation came after Canada’s, all the errors that happened with the Canadian system were corrected with the Australian one. For example, Australia’s constitution came with an amending formula right from the get-go.

So: Australia 1, Waffle 0.

Second, a charter of rights. And yes, as it turns out, Australia does not have a Charter of Human Rights. As you can see, however, they’re in the process of getting one. The also have a Human Rights Commission, and unlike our human rights system they haven’t waded into the internet / freedom of speech debate with such an activist mindset. But let’s be generous and say that, on a technical standpoint, the Waffle is right (though, given political incuriosity on international relations, he may have scored this one by inadvertence).

Australia 1, Waffle 1.

Finally, international obligations. Like Canada, Australia is a member of the UN. Like Canada, Australia also has people serving in Afghanistan — 1500, in fact. Australia is also part of the Commonwealth, the G20, OECD, and the WTO. Regionally, it shares with Canada membership in APEC. Due to its location, Australia also has more sophisticated relations with the Pacific Rim nations, especially China and Japan, than Canada does.

Final score: Australia 2, Waffle 1.

Is this likely to become an “international incident”? Probably not, but if at the next diplomatic soirée the Australian High Commissioner were to give our Leader of the Opposition a noogie, everyone will completely understand.

By way of diversion from the usual political natterings, I thought I’d do some polling on a personal matter.

My current cellphone plan expires later this year, and coupled with the fritzing up of my iPod (second generation Nano, very old), I thought I’d replace it with a new iPhone 4. You know, take advantage of the apps available on iTunes, super sharp camera, that sort of thing.

But the sheer effort required to get an iPhone in Canada, coupled with all those AntennaGate stories, makes me wonder if maybe I shouldn’t think of an alternative. And right now the alternative I’m leaning towards is a Blackberry, specifically the 9700. (Yes, I know about the Android smartphones, but those are still limited due to the apps.) I’m looking at this one because (a) it’s heavily discounted right now, (b) it’s GPS-equipped (and that’s going to be important for my future plans), and (c) Blackberry seems to be a government standard.

Complicating this is the fact that, never having used a smartphone before, I’m genuinely a newbie when it comes to texting, messaging, and handheld blogging. So I can’t really say how I’ll like either model for these functions.

But I’m sure my readers will have opinions on both these models, and their future plans for smartphoning.

Sorry about the alliteration, but I think the editors of the Toronto Star must be looking at Heather Mallick’s first column for them with a sense of foreboding. Simply put, it’s a babble.

There’s no other way to describe it. Apparently the prospects of getting back to a regular contract after years of exile as a freelance writer (remember, that’s the conditions under which she wrote for the CBC and the Guardian) have unhinged her ability to write coherently. How else can you describe passages like this:

If I had known that I would be watching this guy give a press conference in my face on my PC 24 years later, I would have said, no thanks buddy. He was a nice guy, glad he made something of himself, but curses upon you, Interwebs. You are retroactively subtracting the fun of my youth without warning or permission in the privacy of my home.

I did not want to have to phone my husband and say in a small sad voice, “Remember that guy I told you about, you know, that guy. Before we met. Well, he’s online and he’s portly.”

So we had this skate-around and my husband assured me I’m not portly and these things happen, people age, some things are best left untouched, which includes the Play button on the CBC.ca website, and I got over it. But I didn’t get over it, not really. I’m still mad.

Oh, don’t worry about “interwebs” bit: that’s just the British influence coming out. It’ll pass.

It has to be said: there’s something that’s ironically conservative about Ms. Mallick’s situation, in that she’s hopping, skipping, and jumping to embrace the idea of the traditional workspace just as companies are taking a serious look at the benefits of getting its staff to work at home.

There’s also an irony which I think Ms. Mallick misses: the misery of her “exile” actually made for entertaining reading. I’ve always maintained that the more she fulminated about the Harper government, the stronger the sense that the government was on the right track; her weeping and wailing as she saw the nation of her birth change a new direction was a bit part of the fun.

Now that she’s — well, less miserable — the sharpness of her invective is going to be blunted. The Star already had one impotent rager, in the form of Jim Travers; having two won’t necessarily attract more readers.

The above was the tweet of Macleans’ Paul Wells, and it’s his immediate reaction to how the Parliamentary Press Gallery handled Stephen Harper’s press conference today. A summary of what happened is available from the Globe and Mail. (And, to be fair, Mr. Wells did tweet an apology of sorts for his language, albeit with the justification “My profession is being vandalized today by idiots.”)

May I say, it’s always a good thing when one media pundit blows up “on air” (so to speak), causing the profession to take a more careful navel-gaze at itself; it keeps the practitioners humbled and reminds them that they’re just as accountable to the people who read them as politicians are to the people who elect them. (That sense of accountability is pretty much the only thing that justifies their branding themselves as a “fourth estate”.)

In this case, the Parliamentary Press Gallery tried — and failed — to ask the PM questions about the soon-to-be-voluntary long form census; instead, the PM took questions from Sun Media about a not-very-good play about a terrorist, as well as a somewhat more relevant question from CTV’s Craig Oliver about the Tories’ drop in the polls.

In attempting to explain what happened, David Akin referred to a post he made last year, in which he (perhaps inadvertently) explains why the PM is so niggardly with the PPG in the first place:

I would argue that we might learn a bit more about Harper if the PPG got to ask a few more questions. That’s because PPG members tend to follow a narrative or thread of a particular story over the long haul and will ask questions based more on historical context than the questions he receives from reporters where he’s traveling. PPG members tend to seek nuance and information that goes beyond the “talking points” and, we hope, gets into candour and personal introspection.

Setting aside whether or not Akin’s opinion of PPG practice is actually true (it’s difficult to see how such members actually extract “nuance” and “personal introspection” with questions like “was scrapping the mandatory long form a mistake?”), it’s that “narrative following” where the PPG and the politicians it covers, both government and opposition, tend to diverge. The Liberals, for example, would prefer that the press take the narrative about Michael Ignatieff’s qualities to be a successful PM, which was ultimately what his WaffleBus tour was all about, and the Tories would want the census story emphasis to be about the intrusiveness of government, rather than how badly Tony Clement botched the handling of the issue.

You can understand why the press takes the “narrative” as seriously as it does: since they already face accusations from both Government and Opposition about being on “the other side,” they don’t want the “narrative” they ultimately pursue to align too closely to one or the other, lest they provide their critics with “proof” of their biases. The risk they run, however, is that they alienate the readers who do align with one side or the other. And this is an especial risk of those who are part of the PPG.

There is, of course, one way to encourage the PM to answer more questions, but the PPG won’t hear of it. The PM would, in all likelihood, answer more questions if he understood that the press in attendance weren’t part of an organized pool, i.e. they’re each on their own and therefore have different questions to ask. The press secretary could then expand the question limit to maybe six or better, and select the askers by lottery. The only hitch with such a system, of course, is that it’s predicated on the assumption that the PPG doesn’t exist.

So — what do you think? Is the PPG’s current practice a good one for covering today’s PM — or is it really a hindrance to keeping the public informed?