Illegal Aliens Invade Canada

Another Internet phenomenon sent to me by my Mother.


From the Manitoba Herald (a very underground paper):*

The flood of American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week, sparking calls for increased patrols to stop the illegal immigration.

The actions of President Bush are prompting the exodus among left-leaning citizens who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray, and agree with Bill O'Reilly. Canadian border farmers say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, animal-rights activists and Unitarians crossing their fields at night.

"I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn," said Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota. "The producer was cold, exhausted and hungry. He asked me if I could spare a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left. I didn't even get a chance to show him my screenplay."

In an effort to stop the illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the liberals scaled them. So he tried installing speakers and blared Rush Limbaugh across the fields. "Not real effective," he said. "The liberals still got through, and Rush annoyed the cows so much they wouldn't give milk."

Officials are particularly concerned about smugglers who meet liberals near the Canadian border, pack them into Volvo station wagons, drive them across the border and leave them to fend for themselves.

"A lot of these people are not prepared for the ugged conditions," an Ontario border patrolman said. "I found one carload without a drop of drinking water. They did have a nice little Napa Valley cabernet, though."

When liberals are caught, they're sent back across the border, often wailing loudly that they fear retribution from conservatives. Rumors have been circulating about the Bush administration establishing re-education camps in which liberals will be forced to drink domestic beer and watch NASCAR races. In recent days, liberals have turned to sometimes-ingenious ways of crossing the border. Some have taken to posing as senior citizens on bus trips to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs.

After catching a half-dozen young Vegans disguised in powdered wigs, Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed senior-citizen passengers on Perry Como and Rosemary Clooney hits to prove they were alive in the '50s. "If they can't identify the accordion player on The Lawrence Welk Show, we get suspicious about their age," an official said.

Canadian citizens have complained that the illegal immigrants are creating an organic-broccoli shortage and renting all the good Susan Sarandon movies. "I feel sorry for American liberals, but the Canadian economy just can't support them," an Ottawa resident said. "How many art-history majors does one country need?"


*The Manitoba Herald was published daily from January 11, 1877 until August 2, 1877. Its intention was to defend the interests of Manitoba and to keep an eye on the behaviour of the province’s representatives.

Random Thoughts for Tuesday

Choosing A Wife

A man wanted to get married, but he was having trouble choosing among three likely candidates. He decided to give each woman a present of $5,000 and watch to see what they would do with the money.

The first purchased a total make over. She went to a fancy beauty salon to get her hair done and new make up. She then went to the store and bought several new outfits and dresses. She told him she did this to be more a attractive for him because she loves him so much. The man was impressed.

The second went shopping to buy the man gifts. She bought him a new set of golf clubs, some new gizmos for his computer, and some expensive clothes. As she presented these gifts, she tolds him that she spent all the money on him because she loves him so much. Again, the man was impressed.

The third invested the money in the stock market. She earned several times the $5,000. She gives him back his $5,000 and reinvested the remainder in a joint account. She told him that she wanted to save for their future because she loves him so much. Obviously, the man was impressed.

The man thought for a long time about what each woman had done with the money he'd given her.

Then, he married the one with the biggest boobs.

Men are like that, you know. There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.


from my mother

Life

By Marjorie Rock

Life is going too fast, it’s going out of control!. I don’t know what is wrong. It’s as though inside my head is going millions of miles a minute while on the outside I am standing stock-still. I can’t seem to get into a groove. I barely accomplish any of the things that are whiling through my mind. My arms and legs are like lead. My back is tired of trying to hold up my neck and busy head. When did this happen?

I think I just grew old!

Oh how I long for the days when my body was under my control. I was the Queen. I would command and my body would follow. The Queen would say, “It’s time to dance!” And off my body would go – “time step – shuffle off to Buffalo – do the riff step – and now break into the soft shoe, turn to the left four times – turn to the right four times, one more time step, cross-over, one-two-three and bow! “Now do it again” she would bellow!”

Where did I get the idea that my body would be immune to this ‘aging disease.’ Why I thought it was going to continue forever. What a cruel joke to have a mind that is still young, full of so many ideas. And then to have a body that is practically frozen in place.

When I allow myself to meditate for awhile, I can harness the energy in my mind and watch the pictures fly past my inner eye. I see my childhood, my grandparents - parents. I am going to school - kindergarten, grade school, high school, graduation. Right after graduation I came close to dying. I had planned on going to college to become an art teacher. However, I put it off for a year with the intention of making some money to help pay for my schooling – the truth was: I was scared of life. So in no time at all, while looking for the ‘easier, softer way,’ I managed to get married. We moved seven times in the first eight years and during this time, I had five children. I was full of energy and loved to daydream. I would dance with my children and chase them around the house.

After twenty three years of marriage, we divorced. My children were grown mostly. They were dancing on their own. I started another period of my life – I felt renewed. I had hope again; and in my fertile mind – a picture of a bright, though unknown future. I supported myself as a counselor, and I had married again. I didn’t get to dance as much as I would like – I sat a lot. However, in ten years or so, I was on stage having the time of my life – feeling inspired and fulfilling much of the creativity that would rush into my mind. I was in love and I was in love with life. It was going to last forever! But then cancer came to visit – however it was only a bump in the road. In two and one half weeks after surgery, I was back on stage, in costume and make-up – nothing to worry about. I was alive! Chemotherapy, radiation therapy – I couldn’t’ stop – I had a life to live – I had to make money. “I will heal, I will be all right.”

Then came retirement and dreams of traveling, doing community theatre – acting, directing, choreographing, painting, writing.

Three years of illness brought all these dreams to a grinding halt. It’s interesting how the illnesses lasted just long enough to use up nearly all of the energy I had left for wanting to live. I just ran out of juice. AND so here I am – sitting with my buzzing head – wanting so much to be a vital part of life and my body is slowing down.

Today I had a glimpse of my future. An 88 year old friend is in the hospital with compression fractures in her spine. In the past, I have said to her: “When I grow up I want to be just like you.” However, right now she is suffering with terrible pain. This is the same pain my mother had just before she died. So, reality says to me, “Marge, this is the dance of life.” It’s as though there is a veil that prevents us from seeing and hearing this most of the time. Apparently, we are meant to live in the NOW – in the moment. But now and then I do get a glimpse - a reminder that life here in this body is temporary; a reminder to take care of myself to the best of my ability and to surrender to the Will of God. There is no point in fighting. As my mother would say, “Marjorie, it’s rather like being at the head of a long, long line of humanity. We are all marching along. I am coming closer and closer to the edge of the cliff and those behind me aren’t stopping and they don’t care…. soon I will be the next to go.” And so she did and so it goes.

Just for today this is my story. Tomorrow this story may change. Tomorrow I may focus on another part of my life – my quest, my searching – along with the question, “What indeed am I searching for?” I have to smile as I realize that all we have are our stories – they often don’t have much to do with the “reality” – they just fit the view we hold of our lives and mostly to justify some behavior. History is rewritten again and again to help explain the past from our own point of view. When I have an opportunity to read or hear about the same period of recent history written from another point of view, I wonder, “Where was I?” It’s then I realize again, we all have a story and that’s all it is. There may be some facts that are truth, but the interpretation around these facts is just a story – a story often carefully honed by us until it’s just right and puts us in the light we would like to be seen, often a sympathetic light but sometimes not – depending on our mood.

Wisdom tells me, as I read histories, biographies, traditions from various countries, listen to preachers, teachers, counselors and doctors and politicians, read the results of investigations, newspapers, watch TV – its best I remember to say, “Maybe so and maybe not.” AND wisdom also reminds me that when most of us finish doing our thing – it’s best we add “That’s my story and I am sticking to it.”