After Michael Scott (Carell) leaves, have Ms. Bates (Jo), who's CEO of the company that bought Dunder Mifflin, decide to move with her two Great Danes to a new head office at, you guessed it, the branch office we know so well. Make Dwight Schrute (Rainn Wilson) even more obnoxious (and he was going that way this season) and, hijinks ensue. Sure, I've always liked the Ricky Gervais version better, but I think Bates could elevate The Office a cut above even the British version.
Just a thought and, like I said, my brain is melting.
An animal lover friend toured the refurbished Toronto Humane Society today and sends a cautiously optimistic report:
Derrick - Disease control and sanitation Alyx - animal care worker?
- all questions were answered in detail - no "not sures" or vagueness
- not much mention of former board/processes/practices although when we were shown the boardroom/staff lunch room that have been made out of Trow's former office, Derrick mentioned that one of the most satisfying things for him in this whole process was tearing out Tim Trow's walls etc.
- Total number of dog cages has been halved so that each can be expanded in size with "guillotine" door in middle to make cleaning less disruptive for dogs and easier for staff
- Entire facility has been steam-cleaned several times and totally repainted
- Much more natural light
- Indoor/outdoor area for dogs (connected to the dog rooms) that has shady trees, chicken wire across top about 10ft up so birds/raccoons don't get in. this hasn't been completed yet as they need to replace the brick on external walls as there had been raccoons on it etc
- Dog and cat "enrichment" rooms with furniture, plants etc to test them out in homey environment and gauge things like furniture/plant chewing etc
- Dog washing room
- kitten nursery will reopen - no kittens in it yet but shortly
- Before the shutdown they had added a dish- and cage-cleaning machine (made by Steris, huge floor-to-ceiling stainless thing that looks like an elevator) because of the high occupancy, but now that there will be no overcrowding they can sell the extra one
- Bowls and dishes are stored in closed cabinets now so less dust etc (formerly were out on open shelving)
- new holding room for stray cats, with building access from back entrance so no exposure to main cat population
- Hoping to stop using paper to line cages, use towels/linens instead - this will be tested out soon
- Looking into a recycling program (for food tins etc) but it's not in place yet, is one of the long-range goals
- Changing to stainless steel litterboxes instead of cardboard
Now in basement garagey area. Lots of cages stacked for reconfiguration.
Intake process now more involved - consultation with intake coordinator to explain alternatives to owner: not just suggesting rescues or asking friends/family to take animal, but offering information on how owner might try to make it work without surrendering animal
essentially lots of big changes but lots of small ones too
saw quite a few reunions of volunteers with staff - hugs and cries of delight "this is wonderful!" "can't wait to get at it!" etc
***********************************
so yeah overall I came away with a feeling they're ready and eager to start and they're very determined to do things differently.
When I read the horrifying news this week the Newmarket OSPCA was putting down over 350 animals due to a ringworm epidemic - with 50 already euthanized - I thought it had to be just dumb, blind panic. A Chicken LIttle response. But my colleague Tom Walkom offers another rationale today: it may be all about money. As Tom writes:
But in the end, it seems to have decided that it was more efficient — that it to say, less costly — to eliminate the existing animals in its shelter and start all over again. In pure profit-and-loss terms, that calculation is probably correct. But some of us thought that Ontario’s animal welfare charity actually cared about animals.
This is not the first time the OSPCA has made decisions that make no sense. It was, according to court documents, the OSPCA that ordered five "pit bulls" (and proof of breed should be taken with a grain of salt) killed at the Toronto Humane Society recently after, according to court documents, the animals had already been accepted by U.S. pit bull rescue groups. And that's on top of the animals put down when the THS, too, decided to "start all over," as the Newmarket OSPCA branch seems to have done.
Walkom and others have already presented the case against this Newmarket debacle with eloquence and passion. I merely want to pull together some of that comment and raise questions. (I should note I have had animals with ringworm and gotten through it successfully. An epidemic is far more serious than the treatment of a few pets, however it's inconceivable the public charity supposedly dedicated to the welfare of animals chooses the killing option.)
- OSPCA officials have said the last-resort decision was taken on the advice of veterinarians. Who are they? Let's have their opinions. I know my vet doesn't agree. Online, the OSPCA simply makes a couple of terse statements, saying the York region branch in Newmarket is closed until further notice because of the ringworm epidemic and advises people to call 1-888-668-7722 if they have questions. .
- Police and private security were brought in after OSPCA officials said they'd received death threats. No details have been provided. When the Toronto Humane Society announced plans to euthanize its animals and start over, the same claim was made. Then, I followed up, trying to get some details about these threats - were they to the Toronto staff or the OSPCA, were the police brought in, what division, was an official report made? I came up empty. I'm not saying there were no threats, however they are both hard to prove and potentially a strong PR tool. Are these real death threats or, as some have suggested, something more innocent, such as the shocked response of an animal lover asking hypothetically: "How would you feel if you got put down for having ringworm?" Not the most ideal language, but not a death threat.
- It appears the OSPCA is doing huge damage to its own future interests. Walkom's reaction that he may rethink his decision to give to the OSPCA could well be repeated among hundreds of supporters, How many donors - including pet food companies - are going to stop their support?
It appears the OSPCA is backing down. So here's a final post from Fred offering hope on his superb animal blog. The OSPCA now reports it needs help in treating ringworm: Tanya Firmage, the acting director of animal care, is asking qualified residents to contact the Ontario SPCA directly. You can contact Anne Buonaiuto at 905-898-7122 or email abuonaiuto@ospca.on.ca
That is great news. It does, however, raise the question: Like, Duh! Couldn't the OSPCA have made this appeal BEFORE killing some 50 animals?
They had Betty Friggin' White. Think what they could have done with her. Maybe I'm sulking because I didn't get any Sue Ann Nivens, but this woman is hysterical and all I saw were put-the-old-lady-in-a-wig skits. Oh, and make her talk dirty.
I know a Facebook campaign brought her to the show and SNL's ratings were through the roof, apparently the highest in 18 months.
Still, what a waste.
Invite her back, folks, and let her call the shots.
Human reflexes were fast in shutting down Ric O'Barry at last night's Oscars, but not fast enough for a gazillion viewers to see his Academy Awards protest sign, "Text Dolphin to 44144." O'Barry held the protest sign while sharing the Academy Award for Best Documentary film for "The Cove" about the dolphin slaughter in Japan. See video of protest.
His actions should have been no surprise. O'Barry has never pretended to be anything but an activist on behalf of dolphins, a lifelong dedication that began when he watched Flipper "commit suicide," as he put it. He said the animal drowned itself. O'Barry trained the original Flipper for the '60s TV show of the same name and continued to work with the mammal until Flipper's death made him understand living in living in captivity for dolphins is like being confined to a bathtub. Dolphins have complicated social structures, intricate ways of communicating and a territory that covers thousands of kilometres.
On the red carpet before the awards, "The Cove's" director Louie Psihoyos and O'Barry commented on "The Cove," a documentary about the annual killing of 2,000 dolphins near the Japanese fishing village of Taiji. O'Barry called it the largest slaughter of dolphins in the world.
O'Barry came to Mexico when I was based there and working on a story about dophins captured in the Pacific, trucked across Baja in abominable conditions and held in La Paz. Activist organizations were unable to obtain their release to the ocean - despite efforts of the federal enviroment secretary because the international dolphin theme park industry is too lucrative - and the animals endured living in those shallow pens during at least one, and maybe two, hurricanes, before they were shipped who knows where. Several died while at La Paz.
O'Barry opposes any form of dolphin captivity, including "swim-with-the dolphins" programs and the use of dolphins as therapy for children with handicaps. He points out the dophins aren't really smiling; it's just a figment of our self-centred imaginations.
Is it really possible large numbers of people watch the glut of reality TV shows - The Bachelor and Bachlorette, Big Brother, The Amazing Race, Survivor and Survivorman - and believe what they are seeing? I thought everybody knew they weren't real, these highly produced and manipulated shows - the furthest thing from reality. How can a show be called Survivorman when he's got, at the very least, a video crew with him? In the case of Code, it's so regrettable (and sympathy is extended to his family), but as for others out there who think there's value (other than camp) in reality TV: get a grip.
Do swooning viewers really believe those fantasy dates on mate-for-life shows spring from the imaginative brains of the latest Mr. or Miss Right? "I want to spend the rest of my life with him/her," say bubble-brained contestants in endless promos. Oh please, it is to gag.
Even the thought people are busy shaping their life values or "learning" social and survivor skills from reality TV is a terrifying thought.
Prince Harry took a tumble playing polo in a fundraising match in Barbados Monday, after he turned his horse abruptly and the animal slipped and went down. The prince flung his mallet to the ground in anger, not exactly a show of sportsmanship. What really stood out, though, was his apparent lack of concern for his mount. The horse was soon back up but Prince Harry didn't even give his horse a glance. And here we thought the Royals were animal lovers. Guess they're more foxhunt than concern-for-creature types. Pity, that.
Is it possible the Grammys could lay on one more layer of production on a song? Grammys forego taste for spectacle is right, as the headline on Ben Rayner's story says.
* * *
There are serious things to write about today and less serious things. I interviewed Toronto mayoral candidate Adam Giambrone Sunday and learned he has a cat named Fluffy. But it's a Monday in winter - Monday - and anything but a funk seems inapprorpriate. So I'll be funking until tomorrrow when a cheerier blogger will return.
At the risk of making the Decoder sound like Pollyanna, I'd like to pass on an idea that occurred during a personal experience a couple of days ago. The news on the streets of Toronto (and the GTA) has been tragic this year, and we've even had a story suggesting jaywalking is part of the Toronto culture. In the past month, 14 pedestrians have been killed trying to cross streets around the GTA.
Here's what happened to me: At dusk, I was waiting for the light to change to cross Danforth at a light, heading south. An elderly couple stood beside me, he with a cane, she with a fur collar and cheery little hat. I pushed the button to hurry the green light along (you know, the one that doesn't do anything) and, some time later, the light began the countdown, 9,8, 7, etc. When it got to 0, I slid by foot forward awaiting the imminent "Walk" sign. At that moment, the man threw his arm around my shoulder and the woman croaked, "Stop, stop, you'll be KILLED!"
Now, I wasn't going to cross on a red but they didn't know that. What had happened was the light counted down to 0, but instead of turning amber, then red, went green again to allow more east-west traffic. There are no streetcar tracks on the Danforth, so it couldn't have been a TTC driver changing the light back. We had to wait through an entirely new cycle of traffic. Thanks a lot, TTC.
Meanwhile, the couple talked about how horrible the pedestrian deaths have been until the light finally changed and we headed across. I heard them calling after me, "Now, be careful."
Here's a thought: Maybe we could keep an eye out for each other. Now, nobody wants some strange alien grabbing at them at crosswalks. This isn't an invitation for safety vigilantes to roll up their sleeves and go to work. But if you see someone you think is about to head into traffic against the light or preparing for a dangerous dash without crosswalk or light, perhaps a fast, loud word of warning would be helpful. If you're wrong, no harm done. It was sweet of old couple to be so solicitous; I didn't mind at all.
Since writing a post on the Star's annual Santa Claus Fund, I've found myself needing a daily fix of checking out the numbers. There're not good. In fact, Barb Mrozek who's in charge says she need $45,000 a day every day until Christmas Eve just to reach the $1.5 million target. "We're in deep trouble," is how she put it.
There are a lot of pressures on people this year, and especially at Christmas. I simply want to use the Decoder to remind people the Star fund to deliver gift boxes to 45,000 children at Christmas is out there for your consideration.
To Date: $957,484
To Donate: For secure online donations, please go to thestar.com/santaclausfund
Visa, AMEX, MasterCard: Call 416-869-4847
Cheques: Please send to The Toronto Star Santa Claus Fund, One Yonge Street, Toronto, ON M5E 1E6
The Star does not allow anyone to solicit on its behalf. Tax receipts will be issued.
* * *
While I'm on the topic of our tough economy, let me break the news that Up in the Air was not the movie I thought it was going to be. I have a bone to pick with film critic Peter Howell who loved it. 4 stars.
I'm not saying the film won't load up on award show hardware. Its message fits perfectly with the zeitgeist and the ultimate message it delivers is a warm and fuzzy one. Which is what one would expect of a Hollywood movie. It was at least fun to carp over dinner Saturday about why we didn't like it. (Yes, Peter, I was pumped by your review into going out opening weekend.) Besides, I'll know what everybody is buzzing about this year at the Golden Globes, Oscars, et cetera.
I won't worry this blurb will affect moviegoers. After all, who're you gonna believe, me or Howell?
* * *
In a roughly similar view, my taste runs to About Schmidt. Kathy Bates in the hot tub is an image forever burned in my brain. You want small town? Two words. Dermot Mulroney.
That would be Barb Mrozek and it's an honour for the Decoder to tell you about her.
She celebrates Christmas twice each year. One is her traditional family Christmas that officially begins on Christmas Eve, as soon as she finishes work at the Toronto Star. The other starts much earlier, in February of each year, and ends around 5 p.m. on Christmas Eve when she's taken care of every last detail of the TorontoStar's Santa Claus Fund. You might say this second Christmas is a little bigger for Barb since she's in charge of ensuring 45,000 gift boxes arrive at children's homes across Toronto, as well as Peel and York regions, in time for the big day. She'd probably be hard-pressed to decide which is her favorite Christmas so it's best she doesn't have to choose.
As director of charities and philanthropy for the Star, Barb's in charge of the annual Santa Claus Fund. There's an immense amount of work, beginning with placing all the orders for toys and clothing in February, but she has the pleasure (as she puts it) of "bringing a little bit of comfort and a little bit of joy" to the hearts of so many children. She takes care to see each box is packed with a warm shirt, mittens, a hat, socks, candy and a toy for children up to 12 years. Barb (or one of her elves) even tucks a toothbrush and either watermelon- or strawberry-flavoured toothpaste in the boxes for children 5 and older. That way, she doesn't feel guilty about the candy. She says her goal is to send "educational" toys, but they still sound like fun. This year they include everything from a stuffed bear that snores for the really little ones to a walkie-talkie (age 7), a crystal-growing set (10), an American Idol shower radio (11) and a mini digital camera (12). Children are selected by social service and community organizations, including Toronto Social Services, the Yonge Street Mission, the YMCA and Catholic Children's Aid, among many others.
By the time Barb gets home to her own family on Christmas Eve, she's exhausted but it's the best kind of exhaustion. She gets cards, letters and telephone calls from regular donors, often people who tell her they remember receiving a gift - sometimes their only gift - from the Star's Santa Claus Fund when they were little and want to repay the kindness. This year has been an especially tough year for the economy and she's finding donations are coming in at a slightly slower pace than usual, but she's still confident of reaching the $1.5-million goal. "We need all the help we can get."
Barb talks about "one little guy" who started donating when he must have been about three years old. Julian Stevens from Toronto is a pre-teen now and veteran philanthropist, whose mother, April, first contacted the Star in 2003 to deliver $40 he'd raised with his hot chocolate business. (Barb keeps good records.) By 2007, he'd switched to the Fresh Air Fund, sending in $92 from his lemonade stand. Barb describes Julian's products as "seasonal." Last year, Julian collected $198.18 for the Santa Claus Fund and it's little wonder Barb says "he's inspiring."
In fact, "inspiring" is the adjective she uses to describe her job, although she says she usually doesn't see it that way until after Christmas when the work is done and she can relax. By then, it's almost time to begin again.
Merry Christmas, Barb, and best wishes of the season to you and your entire team of elves.
Here are the details of the Santa Claus Fund if you'd like to become a Barb Mrozek elf:
Goal: $1.5 million.
To Date: $883,585.
To Donate: For secure online donation, please go to thestar.com/santaclausfund
Visa, AMEX and MasterCard: Call 416-869-4847
Cheques: Please send to The Toronto Star Santa Claus Fund, One Yonge St., Toronto, ON M5E 1E6
The Star does not allow anyone to solicit on its behalf. Tax receipts will be issued.
Was I the only one seething during yesterday's Grey Cup game at the HBC TV ad for the Vancouver Olympics? It seemed to air at every break, with the narrator intoning: "We arrived 340 years ago to a land of rock, ice and snow." Since then, HBC has been outfitting a nation, one that didn't just survive but thrived.
And what's really great is that they did it all by themselves in that empty, empty land.
* * *
An Olympic factoid: In 2005, the Hudson's Bay Co. was chosen to outfit Canada's Olympic athletes through 2012. The contract between HBC and the Vancouver Olympic Organizing is worth more than $100 million. HBC was sold to NRDC Equity Partners of New York in 2008.
Tell a Washington Post reporter she's written "the second worst story" in an editor's 43 years in the paper's Style section - the Washington society (if that's not an oxymoron) bible - and fists fly. Them's fightin' words. It's just like the Star's newsroom. Joke.
This is pretty funny. It is, I'm afraid my only posting until next week. Next time I'll learn to better judge the time required for an assignment. Enjoy:
I raved last week about FlashForward, the new ABC drama based on the premise the entire world (or maybe not) loses consciousness for 2 minutes and 17 seconds (give or take a second or two), an idea I found intriguing. It's based on the novel by Canadian science fiction writer Robert J. Sawyer.
I couldn't wait for Episode 2 last night. Well, since I raved about it last week, I have to admit this latest offering was flat. It certainly dropped in the ratings and may not turn out to be the smash hit I thought it would be. Let's hope the creators can pull it back - especially since Fringe is fast losing my interest too. There goes my Thursday night sci-fi fest.
I've been lucky enough to have been on a panel at the Toronto Star's tent at the Word on the Street festival before, however yesterday was something special. The crowd was bigger and questions were great. No soft peddling. The audience told us what we're not covering adequately. That readers want more issue journalism during election campaigns came through loud and clear to my group: Ian Urquhart, editorial page editor, National Editor Tim Harper and me. Our session, gracefully moderated by the Star's Geoff Pevere, delved into Canada-U.S. relations and the differences/similarities between the two systems. Readers (and I assume we had a lot of Star readers, if not, please subscribe because you're my kind of reader) commented on the genesis of 9/11 (The massive 9/11 Commission Report provides some interesting reading) conservative talk show radio including Rush Limbaugh and, of course, medical care north and south of the border, or lack thereof. And those topics were for starters.
I carried my little Sureshot so I could take photographs for PoliticalDecoder but, became so lost in the discussion, I left it in my pocket. Smart. Next time.
It's often hard for journalists to judge how readers respond to our work because so much of it is done online these days with anonymous commentary. I'm not against that, although I think an opinion worth having deserves a name, but I'm frustrated with the breakdown of a comment feature that seems increasingly dominated by (mainly) Conservative and Liberal war room/cap-P-Partisans to whom the individual story means nothing. They sit in basements growing their toenails and twiddling their little typing fingers ready to hit the keyboards for the party line. (I'm kidding, the war rooms aren't underground.) Then, there's a smaller percentage of people who aren't Partisans but have their minds made up on an issue beforehad and use the story to get their views across. Now that's fine, although they too often attribute statements or facts to the story that aren't there. We invite comment and I applaud readers with opinions who take the time to write to us. (I'd still like names.) But my favorite comments come from readers who clearly have read the story involved and react - negatively or positively - to the actual contents. These readers appear to compose a very small percentage of the online commentators and you can pick out their offerings, just as you can the Liberal or Conservative professionals. When I have time to read comments on mine and other stories, theirs are most interesting because I know the story has added something to the debate. Whether they agree or not is secondary.
My hearty thanks to all the people who came to our panel (I could describe some of the crowd, but next time I'll bring my camera) and assure them we took their comments and suggestions seriously. The only thing I regret yesterday was Tim didn't get a chance to talk more about covering the Obama presidential election campaign. Last year, he wrote about one meaty piece about being on the road with Obama - "too much bad coffee and an unhealthy dependence on MapQuest" - that had me on the floor laughing. I've walked in Tim's shoes as Washington bureau chief and it was the best piece I've ever read. Terrific, so take the time to read it now if you can. I could have brought it up yesterday on the panel but then all the questions would have gone to Tim, leaving nothing for Ian amnd me. I know, I'm such a noble soul. Again, just kidding. Sorta.
From what I hear, our other panels were a hit as well.
* * *
Bright Star, Dark Hole: In the I'm-no-critic-but I saw Bright Star on the weekend, on the recommendation of Star movie critic Peter Howell, who has evolved into one of the best critics anywhere. (Peter, I like you even more than Anthony Lane.) Yesterday, as he finished his Word on the Street panel I hustled over to him to insist he owes me a Saturday night movie of my choice. Peter was dead right when he said Campion strived for "everydayness" in his Howell review, but then went on to give the flick 3 stars. Well, she got her everydayness, and the next and the next . . . Bleeeccccccchhhhhhhhh.
It was awful. I rate Campion's The Piano among my favorite films of all time, so I had high expectations. Bad script, dull, dull acting, great cinematography. I should have been forewarned last week by her comment to Howell and another piece iby Rick Groen - The Power ofher Restraint - in which she talked about having to strip her actors down to the basics.
“For example, we didn't rehearse this in the normal way. I didn't like the idea of doing a big period-piece bio, so we were already working against the fact that we had costumes on. It was quite a challenge for some members of the cast to feel that they didn't have to present a character, but just to slip into that quiet space. It was uncomfortable for them. They were getting grumpy. I'd see them doing stuff, I could see the gears turning, and I'd look at it and think, ‘I'm so not interested in what you're doing. Can you stop? Can you just stop ?' They were scared at times, but it was weirdly inside me that I just couldn't react to anything fake. ‘When you stop acting,' I said, ‘I'll look.' It's such a relief when screen actors don't act.”
Thought, I'll wager the stuff they were doing was thinking. Without it, the characters came across as dumb as spoons.
The relationship between Fannie Brawne and John Keats had to be passionate and compelling for their immortal love affair to carry the movie.
I should note the animal who played the Brawne family cat was terrific. When he/she played with the pages of a slim book of poetry, you totally forgot this was an actor cat. Kudos there, and let's keep it in mind at award time.
Even though there were loud yawns throughout, people sat at the end and listened to the dull Keats character read a very long poem as the credits rolled. I don't remember the name because my mind was screaming to get out but I was too polite to push my way down the row. (I know my friend would have died of embarrassment.) But it was like being in church as a child; somebody farts, keeps farting even, and everybody smells it but sits respectfully, without expression, as if nothing has happened, waiting for to be dismissed at the end of the service. Thast's how the crowd reacted Saturday night, as if walking out would have shown them to have been incapable of understanding the genius of Keats. They sat as if nobody had farted.
But read Peter's review to make up your mind. As I said: I'm no critic.
* * *
You can never be too careful. The Stephen Harper government has given the Dalai Lama a wide berth during his trip to Canada this week. Even the Governor-General cancelled a meeting with the Tibetan spiritual leader upon whom Harper bestowed honorary Canadian citizenship a few years ago.
Thoughts are contagious. Anybody that calm obviously must have something up his sleeve, other than freedom for Tibet. Could the Dalai Lama have something to do with that 2 minute 17 (or so) second blackout on FlashForward?
I know, China would frown. But jeez. What's next? Book-burning? I've heard approved book lists will be ready for circulation in Canada next spring. Joke.
Well, except maybe Megan Fox's dress size. I've been meaning to give a plug to the LRC (Canadian Literary Review) since I began reading it a year ago. It's nothing fancy in terms of production, but it brims with great reads on politics, the economy, history, music, literary reviews and pop culture (well, maybe you will get that dress size after all) and it's worth a look. The current issue has a fascinating lead story by John Ralston Saul about how southern solutions don't work in the North (I'd like to give you the title, but can't seem to find the most recent issue online and don't have my copy in the office) and the September issue is highlighted by Joseph Heath's, "Did the Banks Go Crazy?"
It's edited by esteemed arts journalist Bronwyn Drainie, and I promise I have no financial stake in the publication (as if I could afford it). I can't say, though, you won't ever see my name as contributor, (I feel like Kristin Chenoweth at the Emmys accepting for the cancelled Pushing Daisies. "I'd like to be on Mad Men. I also like The Office and 24."
* * *
LIke millions of other viewers I tuned into ABC's FlashForward last night because I love the surreal and sci fi (a big Fringe fan) but one line was a real clunker. A guy is drowning in the LA surf (actually hundreds are drowning) and a man on a pier quite a distance away yells down something like: "Hang on. I'll be right there. I'm a doctor." Now I know the fact he's a doctor is a plot development but who would take the time to verify his profession? Oh, did I mention it stars Joseph Fiennes from Shakespeare in Love?
While we're on the general topic, I always get a kick out of TV listings that write, The National (N) or Global News (N). Me, I prefer the old stuff.
Sigh! Fox has some summer filler froth called "More to Love" in which 20 plus-sized women fight for the attention of bachelor Luke Conley and a chance to "spend the rest of our lives together." Oh yuck.
We've seen so much of that formulaic slop with The Bachelor and Bachlorette. But this one! I haven't seen a show so knowingly cruel to women since I was on assignment in Britain and happened to catch a plastic surgery series from the States in which women were literally being sliced up for "tummy tucks" on the operating table while doctors giggled and made fun of their unconscious patients. I forget what it was called (if I ever knew), but it was clearly too much for even an American audience.
This show is sad, just so sad. Here you have these great looking women (who of course don't believe it for a second) confiding to the camera their lives were hell until they "learned to love themselves," as they've done now because this incredible man sees them and appreciates them for who they are. These transformations appear to have taken place over the previous 36 hours. So many tears, so much emotion my flat screen leaked. That's what they say, except their confidence looks about as shaky as More to Love's chances as a repeat series (or should be anyway). Then a woman gets eliminated and she sobs: "Was it because of my weight?"
It's self-flagellation with the cherry of sadism on top, sends a horrible message to girls - the exact opposite of the message it's supposed to be sendng - and is so incredibly patronizing to women, well I, well I . . .turned it off!
Here's a Fox interview with Conley - the latest expert on love - who confides he's interested in a woman "with some meat on her bones." His goal is to meet someone "special," blah-blah, and he expects a woman that can challenge him. Now there's a Herculean task.
Linda Diebel is a veteran political reporter who worked across Canada, including on Parliament Hill, and as the Toronto Star's bureau chief in both Washington and Latin America. She has written two books, Betrayed: The Assassination of Digna Ochoa, and Stéphane Dion: Against the Current.
She's been described as "that mean Diebel person" by President George H.W. Bush and someone "with a good head on her shoulders" by Noam Chomsky. They're probably both right.
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