The Stations of the Crossharbour - The trial of Our Lord.

July 14 2007
The other night watching the local news I actually felt sorry for OUR LORD and OUR LADY as they walked hand-in-hand into the hall of the GRAND INQUISITOR Patrick Fitzgerald. OUR LADY like a virgin all in white looked wan and her auburn hair appeared to be thinning. OUR LORD was LIONESQUE as usual but it turns out his defiance is working against him. Doesn’t he realize he’s the Christian, the LOOSER? He’s got to get down on his FAT knees and ask forgiveness of the POOR stockholders. The poor poor stockingholders. They hung up their stockings with care and he forgot to put something in them. OUR LORD has been a corporate raider since the late seventies back when the stockholders weren’t so cranky. CERBERUS is the big dog now but ARGUS was his little dog back then. Our Lord says he’s a Catholic but he doesn’t know how to behave in the CONFESSIONAL as this courthouse seems to be. It’s about CONTRITION. Just say you’re sorry and you’ll get a slap on the wrist. Recite 3 Hail Marys and that’ll be the end of it, maybe. He should have bought some INDULGENCES to GET OUT OF JAIL FREE. I think the Republicans sell them as do the Democrats. It’s hard to know which would be the BEST BUY now. Scooter Libby had something better than indulgences. The goods.

Naan-ook

BBC ONLINE STORY

COMMENTS:

Author : Don Treemange
You youngsters don’t remember Massey-Harris. When they pulled the plug
on Don Messer in 19 & 69 it sent poor Charlie Chamberlain into such
dire $traits that he was forced to drink WHITE ROSE rye.
As for Monty’s little tyke CONRAD, he’s always been pulling these
monkeyshines.Boys will be boys !
Back in ‘59 Little Marg Osborne was taking care of ‘Conelrad’ &
Monty. Well, I tell you she had us in stitches over to the legion when
she told us of the antics that went on up Toronto way. I hear the Lord
can carry a tune pretty well. He discovered John McDermott don’t you
knnow.
If our boy goes up the river, I’m puttting a pack of SWEET CAPS on him
leading the prison chorale. ATTICA’S FINCH

Author : spruce top parkinsons
ii ffor one wwas happy wwhen bllack rraided massey fergusson and soldd
off the assets. theirr traccktors werre ccrap. i’mm goinng to ssend a
pportion of mmy disability ccheque to the support blacck cchampaign to
hhelp pay ffor a foolicle trannsplant ffor sour lady.
s.t.p.

Author : frogpaddy
I read in the National Post that Lord Black is a writer. Has anyone
ever read anything by him and could they please recommend a title? I
certainly hope his books are not on The Index Librorum Prohibitorum as I am
a Catholic. So no boddice-rippers, please!

Author : Vociferous Reader
I have read Duplexes Dupe Lessees or Duplessi. He liked the spruce beer
napoleon kinda like he wouldn’t have liked huey long. Schefferville’s
most famous decedant played both ends against the middle whereas long pitted his po’ crackers against ‘da man.
Conrad’s ‘A life in Progress”-yucchh
Jeez theis is bordering on serious. Maybe he will by the master tape
from los bravos and put out Black is Back.LYRICS NEEDED- Attention Nancy
White - you may find work befor the next revival of Spring Thaw. If not
her then Dinah Christie, that is if the Scientologists vet her.William
Henry Drummond L’il Bateese he need you now . For da habitant he blue
by gar.

Author : spruce top parkinsons (IP:
Ffor frogpadddy,

rre lord bblack’s books:

yyou needn’t worry yousself abbout lurid bbodice-rippers, altthough i
tthink our lady will be tryin her own che gelida manina at that to hhelp
repplenish the coffins. lord bblack iis a rraider of tthe ppolitical
graveyyard. bbody-snatchin is what he does bbest. rosevault, nexxon aand
morris “mom” duplicit. once wwritten, tthe earth yyawns and swallows tthe
dead again. hhe shsould wrrite something more blue and teatalating
like a b.o. of parrish stilton.
it’s a llovely ttime of year here in ccornwall wwith thte bblue-greee
algaee all in bbloom. the sst lawrence smellls like a cyanotoxic soup
and i’mm geeting hungrry. it’ll be aa pleasant change from the melamine
llaced the ‘i sstink there4 iams’ manuffaxers ppaid
cerberus tto ttake off their hands. manuchow.

sspruce top p.
cornwall asylumm

Author : zbignose
And whither Lady MacBeth. The double bubble boilers hint that the
Lard’ll be river upsent freeing her for further filly follies. She and that
Coltherd girl could become the neo Paris and Lindsay.No knickers in knots.
The old boys are already drooling like Homer over a pork
roast…arrrgh …pork roast

Montreal Attractions - The look out or Le lock out at the cemetery (contains bones of contention) update july 11

July 13 2007
UPDATE on this post from June 12. see bottom of post for cbc.ca story.

The once grieving but now furious relatives of the recently deceased (since the beginning of May and ongoing) whose loved ones are doing time in a Limbo of refrigerated meat-lockers on the site pending the settling of this strike are finally taking action. They want to sue the Catholic diocese who owns the cemetery. I wonder if the diocese is holding things up because it would like to close it and offload this potentially priceless, though tasteless, piece of real estate. A reason: its communicant numbers are down and it can’t pay off the numerous claims by those sexually abused by unwise priests.
Or another scenario: does Cerberus own it now? This would be a great strategic move on its part. It’s the Underworld.

Naan
Abracadaver (poof)

COMMENTS:

Author : zbignews
Nice to see that the cemetarians have upped their cold storage space to
700. I guess they just need enough to get them to the cold Mount Royal
winter and then they can just turf them outside for a few months while
they reorganize their system.
Perhaps they can merge Urgel with Norge and offer power outlets for
individual freezers. I can just see the new style mauseleum with the
Nurgels stacked and humming that consoling 60 Hz B flat(approx). Hum Shanti

Author : zbignews
Just reading the transcript of Charlie Brent Henry and (the other)
Zbignose. I don’t think they see canadians as anything more than what you
mention…with perhaps a soupcon hewers of donuts and drawers of weak
coffee.. or didn’t Wendy buy P’tit Morton. …..on the supply side of
their econoline

Author : zbignews
lockout at the cemetery:
Death Takes a Holiday (1934)
Romance / Fantasy
Tagline: No one can die - while he makes love!
Plot Summary:
Death decides to take a holiday from his usual business to see what it
is like to be a mortal.
Fredric March : Prince Sirki/Death

ORIGINAL POST JUNE 12 2007

Has anyone been up on Mount Royal lately? The grounds keepers and/or grave diggers at Notre-Dame-des-Neiges Cemetery have been on strike (lock-out now) for more than a month and they are on a rotating shift outside the locked gates sprawled in deck chairs under little white tents sipping stuff out of opaque cups. Tim’s or Wild Turkey? Sustenance for the poor workers, indeed. The backhoes are silent. I was tempted to stop by and lend them support because it all looked so fun with the fluttering standards of fluorescent spray-painted syndicate slogans anchored to the venerable old wrought-iron fence. Then I remembered that my mother’s grandparents when they bought their double plot in 1908 had opted for the “perpetual care” package and I got ticked off. The place is so overgrown and forlorn i’m reminded of Gray’s Elegy in a Country Churchyard, minus the parts about the cows and Cromwell. The bodies, of Grey’s Anatomy.

I didn’t realize that Notre-Dame-des-Neiges had opted for amalgamation back when. One city, one graveyard*. Who voted for that? Dead Souls a la Gogol?
Maybe it was the burrowers.

Naan le Neant

* Thank you to Campbell Hendery,
author of “One city, one snowplow.”
His comment on the forced
amalgamation of Montreal.

Update from the CBC: Montreal cemetery staff protest at Jacques Cartier bridge

COMMENTS:

Ex Cemetary Worker writes:
On OUR side of the fence the grass is short enough to putt.
For The record
I shall be spending eternity in the family plot on Lilac Knoll.
When I worked At Mount Royal Cem in ‘70 it was 6 days a week @1.50 an hour.

lily writes:
actually i think it’s kind of nice all that tall grass amid the tombstones.

Storm und Drain writes:
I miss pino. Never cottoned to onip.
Satan oscillate my metallic sonatas

2z or not 2z writes:
It’s as though the executive branch grew another branch and….gee this
is a recurring theme in the news these days. Everybody’s doing the
Dick Croutine. Soon it’ll be Hallibut on Fridays . I don’t know the
legalities of suing the diocese but if they claim executive infallibility,
then ,as in Rome and Washington, the executive branch wins by
definition….. what a strange planet . Where’s Bizzarro Superman … or at least
Bizarro Lois Lane to shed light on this matter. Dick C and “Eggs” B
seem to have been counselling eachother

2z or not 2z writes:

So where does the buck actually stop ? Seems to me that ownership must
step in if management can’t manage…..and clearly they can’t . There
are many being left solace and comfort free when they need it the most.
Somebody is failing the flock and one cannot put this on some guy with
a shovel or a lawnmower.

2z or not 2z writes:
One thing is clear. The mourning process has been mercilessly
hearsejacked and there is profound emotional and existential distress being
suffered by people in a most vulnerable situation. Let the living “bury their dead”.

Author : One Time Law Student Comment:
My theory is that the Churchâ„¢ (One True, that is) will dodge behind
the fact thhat pots aren’t owned but are leased for 99 years. It’s
called an empheutetic lease. They will then put sheep to graze midst the
ketatinery la bas. The Sheep (hereafter referred to as the flock) will be
shorn & the wool will be spun & woven into the finest of
raiments for the WHOLLY FODDER. He , by the by, is now summering at Castel
Geldoffo, or, as he refers to it BERTESGARDEN.
When the finery is finished the sheep will either be turned into
PROFILE LACTICS or told to leave NDN CEMETERY. GET THE FLOCK OUT

Author : Grampa Hogg
Sadly my #@**@# Descendants have alienated their patrimony, oherwise I
would offer unlimated cooling space at The Guaranteed or The Purity.
Gotta go. I have a bridge (mixture ) game with Walt Lowney anon
G. W Hogg ( deceased)

Author : Ed “Whirling” Mirvish
Siva plates now available from Kumar McNeill my New Canadian pal from
way down East. Everything and everyone must go !

David Kerr Remembered by Kate McGarrigle

July 11 2007

David Kerr died suddenly last week in Hong Kong where he’d lived happily for the last 20 years. He fell ill with what doctors thought might be a flu that was going around but the likely cause of death was septicemia.

-I met David a long time ago when I was still a student….he was the brother of a friend of a friend and he showed up in Montreal - very young, very skinny and shy, with a head full of curly hair and an armful of records, among them, The Incredible Stringband, the seminal British Folk Rock group. We became girlfriend and boyfriend in the freezing snowy winter of ‘68 I think, and somewhere in the heart of the McGill ghetto he’d play his I. Stringband records, trying to impress me, but being the music snob that I was, I couldn’t figure out what he heard in this raggletaggled gypsy stuff…the irony of it all is that Joe Boyd, The I. Stringband’s producer at that time, went on to become the producer of Anna’s and my first two records, Kate and Anna McGarrigle and Dancer with Bruised Knees. I guess the gypsies worked some kind of magic on us. My romantic relationship with David didn’t last long, a month or so, and in the words of Bob Dylan, he went his way and I went mine….but we would connect thru the years at various social events as we had a lot of friends in common. On one occasion, a political fundraiser for “Gentleman Nick” Auf der Maur, David, who was more than a little in his cups, announced to my mother, “Mrs. McGarrigle, you don’t know what a catch I was” before falling to the floor. We all had a good laugh. In the mid 80’s he was going thru a bit of a rough patch and I, having just returned from Hong Kong where my sister and I had performed at the Arts Festival, suggested that he visit the place - “get as far away as you can from this town (Montreal) - go to Hong Kong where all things are possible”. Turns out he took my advice and several months later I get a postcard from him where he mentions that he had done something he had never done before in his life: he got a job! Working for the South China Post. A few years later, he told me his lease was up on June 30th, 1997, but was about to sign a new one…he liked it there.
He would come back to Montreal from time to time and we’d sit on my balcony sharing a bottle of wine, take in a concert, then gather with other friends at Elsa’s to bid him godspeed as he sat there with his bag packed, waiting for the midnight bus to Toronto to catch a discount return flight to Hong Kong…his shoes were always shined, his shirt well-pressed and he reminded me of a character in a Somerset Maugham novel, or maybe even a Humphrey Bogart movie, I would imagine him lounging in some ferry boat bar, on his way to Macau, say, smoking a cigaret and sipping a whiskey…reading a newspaper….
Lately I’ve been thinking about all the friends I have all over the world and that I must go and hang with them one last time, one at a time. Now David is no longer on that list. I see him on a ferry going somewhere new, somewhere very far, his shoes are shined, his shirt is pressed. Godspeed you David.-
Kate McGarrigle

COMMENTS:

joelz writes:
july 11 2007
I’m sorry to hear this news and am touched by this illumination

campbie writes:
july 11 2007
I echo the fiddler’s comments.

spruce top p. writes:
july 11 2007
ii rrremember ddavid ffrrom the swiss hutt on ssherbrooke nnear
durocher. hhe was a sweet guy who lliked to write. aat the ttime ii couldn’t
understand why hhe made the move from toronto to montreal wwhen
everybbody elsa was ddoing the opposite, iff you were an aanglo which he was,
although hhis mom was a honky and i tthink that’s were he ggot his
subttle drry humour. now i uunderstand. mmontreal was llaide back then in
ccomparison to toronto wwith itt’s tiny pperfect mayor, a towwn where
evverybody hhad to kknow wwhat you wwere doing before they’d speeak to
you. ii kin ggive you 30 seconds. iin mmontreal you ccould llive in
the bbrown and yellow tudor asylum on haywwarden where there wass
neitherr hay nnor warden aand nobody ggave a fuck. uunfortunately.
lluckily ddavid ggot some ggod advice.

r.i.p. old ffriend.

spruce ttop p.
l’asile de cornwall

SLOW NEWS DAY

Saturday, Jul 7 2007

We can only hope that someone, somewhere, does something really stupid today trumping what Spruce Top Parkinsons and his phalloons were up to last night in the Asylum Woods. They were purportedly engaged in a game of Trillia Pursuit when some old woman reported seeing someone in delirium fragrante.

The judge, a well-known whoretoculturalist, knew the Trillium blooming season ended in late May so that al-ibi didn’t hold water. Spruce Top and his friends were given cold showers and made to wear straight jackets, three button with kick pleat in navy polyester, not the usual goldbraided bolero-style they usually fight off the bears in.

I’m getting some feeling back in my toes which since the fireworks accident are now where my fingers used to be. As for the missing toes, the woodshop has given me the butt end of a two by four to stick in the end of my boot. I’m looking forward to kicking some ass around this place. It used to be run by Queen’s Park but our creapy Norman Bates look-alike Premier sold it to the Cerberus gang (the hounds of hell, well-named) who think toilet paper is an extravagance.

Gen Naan
Cornwall Asylum
aka The devil’s pit

26 Responses to “SLOW NEWS DAY”

spruce top parkinsons Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 1:16 pm
ii ggues nnow tthAT bobby dylan’s train of thought hhas lleft town nno onne’s iinteressted in the aantiques of an oldde soddomite livving iin the aarmpit, ccrotch wwould be aa bbeter word, of OontariariariO.
sspruce ttop p.
ddown and oout
in cornwalll and alexxandria

Lexzicon Luther Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 1:26 pm
Queen’s Pork indeed. Someone ought to tell those gomorrons to sod off. Egads Fap.

Norman Deposed Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 3:05 pm
Slow new day ? Not on yr. Nellie. 7/7/07. The lotto termianls are humming with New Canucks hoping to winh big on gold mountain. Nissan Hutt is doing a Noh play somewhere in eternity. Live Earth will drop the cambient temp. of the globe by tomorrow. Sprucey Boy, you sound like Lucretia Borge.. I manke no Grand Canyon Concessions or St. An Kenton Concessions. Yo ! Mo Kenyatta Please!!

spruce top parkinsons Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 4:38 pm
dearr nnorm depope,
tthanks forr update. nnothin much new hhere. wwe had aa ttreat today. ssoup kitcheen served uup ssome real nice sstrawberrrries tthat came ffrom loblaw’s ddumpstter. those wwestons aare ffine peopole.
sspruce ttop p.
cornwall aasylum

Lexzicon Luther Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 5:13 pm
THE big news is Madonna plays electric guitar….

Swirl Cameroon Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 5:46 pm
I think you mean Maradona ! Update ! Nekked Twerp Sick Koreans.
Danskins in the Street. An Old un’ by Pounie & the Valhallas. Fillum at Eleven!

Ben E. Dick - Standum con Mei Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 6:09 pm
Missa Latina Sancus es. Codus Davincicus meliorium es . Non Benedictus Dorkus Mallorcus.
Requiescat en Pacum Clydium Gillmorah

spruce top parkinsons Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 6:17 pm
dear dislexsicko-llu,
yyou mmight be innerrested tto knnow i pplay tthe cchainsaw iin the asylum enssemble. with great stihl i mmight add. we hhad a minor hhit witth ssomething called “don’t ccut and rrun.”
gooogle ‘vangogh in earack.’
sspruce top p.
ccornwall asylum

Yap Islander Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 6:19 pm
Clarissa Beverage Is a dead ringer for that Little swank gal Hilary Roadhog.

Hussy (Not Vlasa) Varna Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 6:38 pm
Be Stihl my Evelyn Hart. Ain’t no more Kane on the Dance floor. The Tennant were Late with the rent. When at Balmoral i dont grouse about the gillies. tree little maids from stihl are thee. Tra La La La La la. Lala wont do that woik .

Lexzicon Luther Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 7:21 pm
It must be very soothing to the others to hear you practice. The old saw is that the saw is the closest to the human voice and, of course, it is closely associated with deep sleep in all the cartoons. I can only surmise that the chain saw is even more so on both counts…well my voice at least.. Madonna also had a fiddler sawing away ~ perhaps she’d be better off with a real saw player like yourself y’know … give her a bit of a leg -off in the industry.
Keep it away from the spruce so as to keep your stature

St. Opress Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 8:58 pm
A little bird (feygele) tells us of red rodents and witch ( hazel?) transport devices involving ernie’s red shod papal brother and Santa’s entry port. Window dressing for the habitants?
APB -PDQ on The QT.-
Lopsided Elmo reporting. Back to you.

Hostie City Limits Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 9:04 pm
Tyred of the Al gore riddems. Ain’t gonna go to Tennis sea. I gots Al Goraphobia. Myron’s gallows way. Veni Vidi Vidal.
Siegfried und Sassoon. Tyger tyger aaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh!

Whimee Poubelle Says:
July 7th, 2007 at 9:47 pm
somethins in da bin

Emile Zoloft Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 2:21 am
something is afoot,
some things are feet
I hear the dulcet tones of the chainsaw , beckoning me to Slumberland and Little Nemo is on the Dr. Pill Show.

ruthanzo Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 10:31 am
the asylum ensemble was having it’s usual sat night rehearsal when one of the flute players complained that struce top, whose chainsaw was going full throttle, was a whole tone away from the rest of them. between you and me, i think he’s lost his earrings. this contretemps resulted in spruce top venting his anger and the building by cutting a 20 by 30 foot opening in the south wall giving us an unbroken view of domtar’s old slagheap.
gen naan
cornwall asylum

Emile Zoloft Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 11:08 am
You must get a Canada Council Grant or at least one from the Department of Fishes Forests and Mining. I understand that this is an Impromtured ensemble but I know for a fact that there are recording studios thrown together that can and will record this stuff live on/off the floor of the asylum. The fact that it appears to be , as they say, “unplugged” is now considered a selling point . (I’d keep the “gas powered” under wraps for the time being what with all this Carbon Footprint buzz word stuff but neVer mINd the Buzzward Here’s the buZzSaw). Maybe even an endorsement from Domtar

ruthanzo Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 12:23 pm
i think the word is “unhinged” and do you think it could still be a selling point?
gen naan

Emile Zoloft Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 1:14 pm
Absolutely ! Empty V will come knocking on your door , contracts in hand, (door on the floor)

Place Ibo Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 6:25 pm
Mo please.
Mobutu Seise Seiko !
Seisie?
Seise!!!
Kwame H. Nkrumah!!
Oh Tabo Mbeki
Mbeki Tabo
Nyrere Wimoweh

ruthanzo Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 7:31 pm
mombassa
daddy sangtenor

Gay Lou Ron Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 8:48 pm
Timbre!

Speedy Gone Salsa Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 9:03 pm
I suspect the author is really NAAN O’SECOND - A timely and comely hibernian lass. Just a soup son mind you- but soup’s on naantheless.

John O’Groats Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 9:06 pm
What mealy mouthed twaddle . Oh How gruel!

zebra zpots Says:
July 10th, 2007 at 10:06 pm
zofar zogood
zip zip hurah
zis being ze correct blogue heading
zuss zpoke zorro and lady azter

J. Buckin (Lord Tweed Smore) Says:
July 10th, 2007 at 10:15 pm
Unlike the parvenus above, I firmly believe the author to be either Enid Blyton or one of The Mitfords.
I Remain your obediant Servant
Tweed Smore
Watlington upon Irons U.K.

Bob Dylan Montreal Jazz fest july 4

July 5 2007

First impressions: He looked like an old Bavarian clergyman playing the psaltery while he intoned, seldom straying from his ravenlike monotone, the old psalms from a hymnal known only to his congregants.The church was packed. The visual effects were diffuse and appropriately monotonous. Black and grey abstract shapes floated past on the backdrop while the 5 piece band, dressed in coffin-grey and sporting black homburgs or fedoras rocked on, dignified and reverential to the leader in his amish sombrero. Highlights of show included: It’s Alright Ma I’m Only Bleeding/Dying (goosebumps), Tangled up in Blue (good to hear it one more time), Highway 61 Revisited (most-rockin), Nettie Moore (excrutiatingly haunting).

I have to say that I prefer it when Dylan plays the guitar. The womanly shape of the instrument brings a little sex appeal to any performance even when it’s badly forplayed. At one point all the guys were hugging and rocking their guitars, very sexy, while the bandy-legged Bob looked like he was coldly fashioning something on a Black & Decker workbench. A shaker chair.

RUSSIANS’ SUFFERING.

Tuesday, Jul 3 2007

RUSSIANS ARE SUFFERING FROM HAMMER AND SCYCLE-CELL AMNESIA. KHORDOFWOODSKY TICKED OFF BY SODDOMITE SLANDER SHOWS GREAT AFFECTION FOR MISSUS YUKOS. PUTIN ONLY A PRAWN IN BOBBY FISHER’S GAME.
GEN NAAN
CORNWALL ASYLUM

KEN. E. BUNKPORT-PUTIN OUT THE (RATS) by Campbell Hendery

Monday, Jul 2 2007

Stir for SCOOTER ? No sirree sirrah. LIBBY RATION.
CHARLIE CHENEY & THE VANISHING CONSTITUTION.
H2O Gate DUB ya style. Georgie not implicated in KENNEDY affair.
Him never hear of BOOK DEPOSITORY. Thinks it’s icky form of medication.
We need hits. ANNE ASTASIA putttin up her DOGS OF WAR.
What is’t Good for. Eric’s BURDEN no heavier than my BROTHER JEB
CLAMPIT . WHAT SAY YOU? ME TYRED. AULD und IN DA WAY.
BOWLING FOR COLUMBUS? ISABELLA SHAME on you
And FERDINAND the BULL.

comments-a-coming

God help us!

if those three pathetic attempts to cause bodily harm are what passes for attacks these days what are we going to do when the real thing comes along? i think somebody is trying to scare gordon brown. boo! big tobacco? no. i think they’d get it right. it’s probably the handiwork of one of the many al-quaeda kindergardens which are popping up all over. hot franchise. bigger than burger king. too bad it’s not publicly traded. but like in most other educational institutions the kids aren’t learning anything.

Naan