“Fields of Gold” by Sting

In England our house is surrounded by barley fields, and in the summer it’s fascinating to watch the wind moving over the shimmering surface, like waves on an ocean of gold.

There’s something inherently sexy about this sight, something primal, as if the wind were making love to the barley. Lovers have made promises here, I’m sure, their bonds strengthened by the comforting cycle of the seasons.

—Sting, Lyrics, p.167

Quoted: Rex Murphy (2015.10.16)

from “Tom Mulcair was always going to be the man in the middle

Next, though he (Tom Mulcair) held the rank of Opposition leader, and though he had a parliamentary caucus far superior in numbers to the third-place party, he was never seen fully to occupy the role [….]

The ancient cleavage of Canadian politics — Libs and Tories — held.

During his time as the Leader of the Official Opposition, Mulcair demonstrated

(a)ll very credible achievements, but none of it the stuff of excitement and flair. None of it a matter of style.

Style counts.

—Rex Murphy, National Post (2015.10.16)

“Surfacing” by Margaret Atwood, Ch.9, Para.1

The trouble is all in the knob at the top of our bodies. I’m not against the body or the head either: only the neck, which creates the illusion that they are separate. The language is wrong, it shouldn’t have different words for them. If the head extended directly into the shoulders like a worm’s or a frog’s without that constriction, that lie, they wouldn’t be able to look down at their bodies and move them around as if they were robots or puppets; they would have to realize that if the head is detached from the body both of them will die.

—Margaret Atwood

from “Immediately Everything Was Wrong” by Conan O’Brien

His hair resembled an ill-fitting vintage leather motorcycle helmet. His front teeth had a massive gap that looked almost painted-on as a joke. He was wearing the requisite broadcaster’s tie, but khaki pants and Adidas sneakers. His set looked wrong, as if he had thrown it together minutes before the show—strange photos of dogs decorated the wall behind him. And then there was his manner. His smile was not ingratiating, but mischievous and ever so slightly malevolent. He was not comfortable in his own skin at a time when everyone on television, by definition, was comfortable in their own skin. And on top of it all, he was doing a comedy show in the morning. What the hell? Who does a comedy show in the morning? What’s wrong with this guy? Who let this happen? […]

Not one single writer/performer in the last 35 years has had Dave’s seismic impact on comedy.

Read the full piece, here.