Most of the interesting things I could say about Gary Collins’ departure from the Campbell government (to, I kid you not, head up an airline) have already been said by Ian King. He notes in particular the gushing kudos from the Canadian Press coverage, particularly the claim that “During his four years as finance minister, Collins took the province from a $4-billion deficit to a $2-billion surplus while cutting taxes and programs.”
Not mentioned … is that said deficit was largely self-inflicted; more than half that total was due to the Liberals cutting taxes in their first week in office, while $750-million of the 2002-03 deficit was a ‚Äúprudence‚Äù cushion that was never intended to be spent. As for the new surplus, $800-million of it comes from an unexpected payment in equalization payments, almost all the rest from a spike in resource revenues due thanks to high energy prices. In fact, the last two NDP budgets (2000-01 and 2001-02) were also balanced with a modest surplus due to‚Ķ you guessed it, high energy prices.
The only things I have to add are these:
- What freakin’ Bizarro universe do we live in, that Gary Collins is being eulogized as the voice of calm centrist moderation in the Campbell government?
- He really couldn’t wait six months instead of leaving his constituents (ahem) up in the air?
- At what point do the oxygen masks drop down from the ceiling at the cabinet table in Victoria, and the ministers spend their remaining time in office with their heads between their knees? (Must… resist… follow-up joke…) God knows they’ve spent the past three and a half years with their (No! Don’t do it!) seats in the locked and right-wing position. (Oh, thank god. We keep our PG rating.)
Heckfire!
Excellent tapdance on the feral one’s politicogravesite.
Don’t know how I missed it first time around.
Too kind. (And “Cottinghammerer”? Love it!)
Next question: is this in fact a permanent gravesite for Collins?
Or will a gaggle of his acolytes gather the night of the fall equinox, sacrifice a virgin ER ward over his coffin at the stroke of midnight, and chant in low moans the sacred neocon chant — “Trickle down on me as this blood trickles down now on thee” — while their Dark Master’s eyes flicker open, glowing with the fire of the pits of Hell? Will he rise forth, guided from the netherworld by a path of Vancouver Provinces strewn from here to Hades?
Alternatively, will they move to a one-damned-soul, one-vote leadership selection process (a.k.a. the Satanic Transferable Vote)?
(Spamchronicity report: As I wrote this, a piece of spam arrived in my inbox, purporting to be from Transylvania University.)
OK, OK — I shouldn’t demonize folks on the other side. (Some of them come pre-demonized. But still.) And I actually do believe that people sometimes leave politics for family reasons, because politics is to family life what a woodchipper is to Steve Buscemi.
So I’ll go with the generous construction: that the by-election, the polling numbers and the upcoming charges against Collins’ closest advisor made family life look much, much, much more attractive than the prospects of riding Air Campbell to its ultimate destination (which at the moment looks less like a runway and more like the crater of an active volcano).
Permanent?
Who said anything about permanent?
After all, this is British Columbia, a place where P.R. (ie. political ressurection) is always in the air.
And just who is wearing that Satan mask these days anyway?