Monday, August 9, 2010

The Creation of Mad Stevie: Sorry Robert Service

A CULTURE OF DEFIANCE: History of the Reform-Conservative Party of Canada

The Creation of Mad Stevie

There were strange things done for political fun
By a man whose blood runs cold;
His campaign trails have their secret tales
Of pure cunning as they unfold;

And while election nights, have seen queer sights
The queerest we ever did see
Was when we let down our guard, and without reward
We elected Mad Stevie

Now Mad Stevie is from Calgary
Though Toronto born and bred
Why he left that place to get in our face
T'was a decision we now all dread

He was always cold, and the tales he told
Were of a Canada he could sell;
Though he'd often say, in his evil way
"he'd sooner put us through hell."

But in our Canadian way, we gave him his day
At the end of that campaign trail.
Then the air turned cold! Because we were not told
That the devil would now prevail.

So our eyes we closed, as Mad Stevie imposed
a blackout to history;
The media were shunned, now our country was run
In unheard of secrecy.

And every night, we are treated to the sight
of Mad Stevie on the go,
Photos on planes, photos with Danes
Even photos with Marilyn Munroe.

And if you wonder, or sometimes ponder,
What he does with all those pics;
He lines the halls, and plasters the walls;
The narcissist's daily fix

Yes it seems quite low, but you have to know;
That Mad Stevie's not quite right in the head:
It's his cursèd cold, that has taken hold,
He doesn't govern but dictates instead.

So what have we done, for political fun?
And what's happened while we were asleep?
Well hold on tight and I'll tell you tonight,

The first thing to tank, was our once sound banks,
And when things went south, he opened his mouth;
And bought them for you and me.

Bought what you ask, what was this task?
That has us in trouble deep;
Bought all sub-prime, 125 billion and a dime
All that's left is for us to weep.

But that's not all, he had the gall
to pat himself on the back,
And though we're in a mess, he won't confess,
That our finances are out of whack;

Tighten your belts, he's always felt:
"I need more cash", he cries unabashed
His house of cards starts to moan.

"And I want a lake, we'll make it fake
And gazebos will dot the land.
And in days to come, I'll beat you numb,
You'll never see my slight of hand.

"In my month long flight, I'll stay out of sight,
Others will take the fall,
I'm mute and on the ball.

"But I'm no fool, a circus school
I've built for my next career;
Because I know, that Canadians so
want to kick me out on my rear."

"But it's not just me", he cried with glee
"Stockwell Day is raving mad;
He sees criminal acts, and without any facts

"And what about Gail Shea, who was in a play
With Tilly Oneil-Gordon
It was closed first night, with not a patron in sight
Their careers now clearly done

"Or Jim Prentice, who got off the fence
And started making stuff up
We have no plan, and yet this man
Packed his release with a wallop

"And Peter MacKay, who sees to this day
the Ruskies on the attack;
'The sky is falling', how appalling
so why not get on his back?

"Or that Vic Toews, who everyone knows,
Or Dean Del Mastro, who everyone knows,
Could always use a good kick in the can

"I've prorogued before, I can prorogue some more
Just you wait and see
I'll lock up this place, and if you show your face
I'll make you a detainee

"And I'll not have to pay, 'cause I'll call it a day
And go on a photo-op
There's an empty wall, in the bathroom stall
Just begging for a pic of my yop

"And I've got me a Guy, who you'll rarely see
He's my Joseph Goebbels from Hell
He'll keep you away and make innocents pay

"And Dimitri Soudas and John Baird the bad ass
Are ready to growl, snap and bite;
So if you want to rumble, It's you who will tumble
'Cause I'm your dictator for life."

But then came a sound, that has rarely been found
In a country not known for aggression
One day all awoke, and a new leader spoke
"I will make his downfall, my obsession"

So I'll finish my tale, and in this I won't fail
Because the ending is one of pure joy
We had our election, and made our selection
And finally got rid of our boy

There were strange things done for political fun
Good sense was clearly lacking
But we're finally awake, when Democracy was at stake,
And we've sent Mad Stevie packing


  1. A masterful piece of work that is begging for distribution - do I have your permission to cut, paste, layout and print so as to share with the townspeople. My laser printer is itching for another mission.


  2. Well done! I know many who would love to read this Emily.

  3. Never kick a man when he is down! Kick him only after you have tripped him.and he falls on his face.