The details that confuse
Given that part of my rationale for posting here, day after day, is to mark time, I have an admission. I read the news and I react to content. There, my confession.
On any evening, a quick check of the major news networks will reveal details that might otherwise be missed in the hurlyburly. That’s from Shakespeare; Mrs Rapson had us for our year of Macbeth and the phrase stuck in my synapses. Today, we salute a new record in meatball size, a debate in the Canadian parliament over vaccinations for the “postal code flu”, the hyperbole of World Series announcers, the arrival of Chuck and “not Di” on the Rock, and the sad reality that I now live in a city without direction.
So, how big is that meatball? According to the report, it weighs in at a 101 Kg. I have no idea how you cook such an object, or who gets it on their plate of spaghetti.
Why a debate? Simple: once something gets totally screwed up in Canada, we let the kiddies shout at each other. Here we are with insufficient quantities of vaccine, yet there are 3,000 doses for sale in a private clinic in Toronto. On the Island, children will wait while the gang over in Sleepy Hollow gets protected against a fate worse than jail. In Ottawa, nobody knows how many people have been put through the mill, but the minister in charge has a figure that she likes: six million. Unverified and unverifiable, of course.
Baseball.
Chucky “the King-in-waiting” is within the walls, and Danny Williams managed to get special mention for Herman and the Hermits and miniskirts. I’m not really sure what the message “is” for the rest of us.
There may have been other news, today, but I was so distracted that I can’t remember details. After all, I live in the only Canadian city with an emperor.
