Top Tag

Latest Post

Interview About “Shuttlers” Flash fiction: "In the City of the Faced" in Factor Four Magazine! Unleashing Your Dreams Daily Writing Tip #26 Daily Writing Tip #25

A metaphysical interview with Stephen Harper

So it’s been a long time since I posted anything here, despite the obvious fact that there is a national election going on and everyone is in a tizzy. I’ve been busy, mostly working on a new book, which is turning out to be six billion times more complicated than I’d thought. Writing is, like, hard and stuff.

Anyway, I did manage to find some time for metaphysical interviews with the major candidates. I’ve been trying to interview the incumbent, Stephen Harper, for weeks. But his staffers refused. I explained to them that a metaphysical interview is not a real interview, because instead of talking to the person you speculate about what they might say. They still wouldn’t do it. “The Prime Minister doesn’t do imaginary interviews,” they said. “You’re not even allowed to pretend you talked to him.”
Then I got a call out of blue. “The Prime Minister is willing to speak to you, to help get his message out to Canadians.” And I was asked to meet Harper at his home in Calgary.
Harper’s home was a black tower looming over what was otherwise a pleasant suburban neighbourhood. Thunder rumbled in the clouds overhead and a chill wind shook the dead branches of the trees. The yard was decorated with severed heads on spikes – Nigel Wright, Michael Sona, a bunch more I didn’t recognize.

Pierre Poilevre was waiting at the door, casually leaning an AK-47 against the shoulder of his blue suit. “The boss is expecting you,” he said by way of greeting.

In the living room, the television was playing the opening sequence of a Fox News show called When Niqabs Attack. “If their faces are covered,” said the voiceover, “how do you know they’re not hiding explosives in their cheeks?” The screen showed a picture of a chipmunk with Osama bin Laden’s beard photoshopped onto it.

The Prime Minister sat in a huge armchair stroking a cat, barking orders at a group of technicians as they worked on what I assumed was not a death ray, though it did kind of look like a death ray, and it did kind of say “DEATH RAY” on the side. Jenni Byrne was there on a laptop. I assume she was not looking up the GPS coordinates for Papineau. I also assume I misheard her say “Die, Liberals, die!” while cackling madly.

Behind Harper’s chair, half a dozen terrified people huddled against the wall, bound and gagged with duct tape. They were either hostages or Environment Canada scientists, it wasn’t clear.

When Harper saw me, he pulled off the eyepatch he was wearing and hid it behind his back. “You may speak,” he grunted.

“Mr. Prime Minister,” I said, “your campaign so far has been pretty short on accounts of what you’ll do if elected. You seem to be running primarily on your record and not promising anything besides more of the status quo.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. “But I was wondering about your plans. What do you see yourself doing in the next four years, if re-elected?”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes,” he said.

“I, um, actually, I was asking about your plans, not the Liberals.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

I sighed. “Let’s change the subject. You recently instituted a tip line where people can report ‘barbaric cultural practices’. Don’t you worry this might be a Charter violation?”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“That’s really not relevant here at all.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“Uh, is this some kind of trick? Instead of the Prime Minister I get to interview a broken android lookalike?”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“Or maybe you have some previously-undiscovered form of Tourette’s?”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“This is like trying to have a conversation with the worst techno song ever.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“Oh, I get it. You weren’t really willing to give me an interview. You just wanted me to write out your latest slogan on my blog eight hundred times.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes.”

“So I heard,” I sighed. “By the way, were you going to explain that claim, or give some evidence for it? I seem to remember the Liberal platform was to raise taxes only on the very rich, and that the bulk of voters would get a cut, if anything.”

“Justin Trudeau will raise your taxes!” Harper leapt from his chair and started dancing in a circle, pulling money out of his pockets and throwing it on the floor. “This is your brain on Justin Trudeau! This is your brain on Justin Trudeau!”

When he started pouring lighter fluid on the money I decided it was time to leave.