I’m going to need a little time to put this into perspective and gain any insights beyond the following:

1. If I wasn’t a proportional representation fan before, I sure as hell am now.

2. E-night was so much better than E-the-next-morning.

3. Jack had a beautiful reference in his victory speech that caught me off-guard, when he referred to the party’s activists as “my northern star, a constant source of inspiration.”

4. Strategic voting is one of the great misnomers in Canadian politics. It’s tactical voting, and if voters really want to use it, they’d better know what the situation is in their riding. Otherwise, they’ll trade truly great MPs for Conservatives, not Liberals.

5. The child pornography smear campaign was, bar none, the lowest moment I can remember in Canadian politics — and coming from the party that decided making fun of Jean Chrétien’s facial features was a heads-up move, that’s saying something.

From AdamRadwanski.com :

“However much he wants to paint himself as a social activist, lambasting Mr. Harper for his social conservatism and his preference for smaller government, the PM’s record shows that he’s as close to the Conservative leader’s mindset as to the one he’s purporting to represent….

To recap, Mr. Martin is uncomfortable with abortion. He was, until recently, positioning himself as more an opponent than a supporter of gay marriage. He’s failed to move forward with Mr. ChrÔø?tien’s proposed decriminalization of marijuana, shown little faith or interest in the Kyoto Protocol, and pledged to bring our foreign policy more in line with that of the United States. And at no point in his five months in power did he bring forward a single worthwhile domestic initiative….

The best hope for those who believe in activist government is that the Liberals will shift back toward the left when they choose their next leader. But that will probably only happen if they’re convinced that there’s a constituency on that side that they need to win back.

The best way to send that message is by helping the NDP to a breakthrough. For once, strategic voting might actually mean opting for a party that has no chance of forming government.”

News item: Top Liberal strategist vows cabinet hecklers will strike again; Martin says they won’t

From the private journal of Captain Willard, Special Ops Detachment, Liberal HQ — June 3, 2004:

The air was sticky and thick with mosquitoes. Diesel exhaust permeated everything on the boat, painting a layer of grime on the guns and our boots.

We were eight, steaming up the Ottawa River on patrol. The others were good men, unburdened with the knowledge I carried: that our mission was anything but routine.

“Cap’n?” asked the sergeant, an ox of a guy from the Saguenay. “We gotta talk.”

I’d been expecting this. I lay my Bowie knife next to the sharpening stone at my feet.

“Something on your mind, Sergeant?”

“The men. They know something’s up. I figure as we got a right to know.”

“The men know what they need to know.”

His eyes narrowed, and I saw them fold into the hardened killer’s face that was probably the last living sight of at least a dozen Bloc canvassers.

“They’re privates, Cap’n, but they’re not stupid. They can read the polls.”

“All right,” I said. I picked up the knife and started sharpening. I pitched my voice just under the squeals of steel on stone. “I’ll tell you, and you decide what to tell them.”

He leaned a little closer.

“There’s a rogue campaign co-chair up-river. Name of Herle. I have orders to terminate his command.”

“Orders?!” he hissed. “To take out one of our own?!”

I set the knife on my knee and reached into the satchel on the deck at my feet. I pulled out the dossier and spread it out for him. His eyes widened when he saw the clippings. And his jaw clenched when he saw the pictures.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “He forced the former chief economist of the Bank of Canada to… to…”

“Yeah,” I said. “And look at this one. That’s a cabinet minister in the dorky red T-shirt, yelling. A cabinet minister, Sergeant.”

He looked up from the photos, and I could see he’d just lost whatever vestiges of innocence he’d managed to cling to.

“So what do you say?” I asked him.

He turned to the Marine in the wheelhouse. “You get me full speed, you hear?” he barked.