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THERE WAS A FUNNY STORY IN THE NEWSPAPER THIS WEEK ABOUT OUR PRIME MINISTER.
Actually, there are funny stories in the newspaper EVERY week about our prime minister (Oh, it pains me to call him that), but this one was VERY, VERY funny.
Our PM's name is Stephen Harper, but you can call him Stevie. He's from Canada's Wild West, Alberta, and that picture of him above relates to this week's story.
Turns out Stevie, the most conservative of Canadian prime ministers since Brian Mulroney sang When Irish Eyes are Smiling with Ronald Reagan in 1984 or whenever, can't dress himself.
Stevie refuses to go anywhere, a story this week said, without a fashion consultant from Toronto who picks out all his clothes in an effort to improve his public image and appearance.
This from a George W. Bush waterboy/lapdog who is trying to make us as American as can be, even as he struggles with a minority government that's in power only because of Liberal Party scandals.
Harper is from Calgary, which is Alberta's bible belt and, yes, it has similarities to Dubya's Texas -- oil-rich, right-wing, religious fervor and full of hot air. It's a beautiful place, I was born there.
But this guy's a classic. He's trampled on the concept of government openess and disclosure, is Bush's mini-me on the Iraq war and Afghanistan and is the Prince of the Photo Op.
So here is a pictorial essay of our man who would be prime minister...a portrait of one of the world's truly great lost leaders...
