A summer of discontent

Glen Pearson’s spent the break wrestling at some length with his existence, such as this.

In May, I walked through the restaurant at the Marriott Hotel and was summoned to a table of Conservatives who were celebrated the anniversary of their election.  ”Come on, have a drink with us,” they entreated.  I was glad to do it and they were great to be with. At one point in the evening, one of them expressed frustration at how difficult it was for the average MP to speak their mind in the House. One of the women present lamented that the same had to be said about parliamentary committees. All chipped in with the understanding that we couldn’t mention of this to the media lest they take it out of context and our respective party establishments take offense.

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