Codes Of Conduct And Other Acts Of Monumental Stupidity

I watched Newmarket Council last night.

Oh My Sweet Lord!

I had no idea .

I watched a grown man weep.

I watched Councillors disclaim authority  to hold another Councillor accountable.

The principle was stated  only the electorate  has  power to pass judgement on  conduct of a Councillor.

They who give shall take away.  Maybe.


I watched  the virtuous one  deny the tenet completely and   continue to heap coals of fire on the head of the weeping Councillor.


It was a scene from Dante's Inferno.

They debated the Code of Conduct. They have never had an Integrity Commissioner. They were calling upon  resources of the Chief Administrative Officer to handle complaints against Councillors.

How appropriate is that?

Last night, they decided to scrap that part of the Code that allows Councillors to attack Councillors at no expense to themselves.

They agreed,  if  a Councillors have disagreements with another Councillor,  they should duke it out at their own expense.

 Taxpayers money should not be used.

What a novel notion.

So another Code  bites the dust. 

A reliable source has informed me ,Councils all over Ontario are chucking Codes. Think of the litter aand the broken dreams.

It  means of course  corruption  and unseemly conduct will run rampant in  the ranks of  municipal elected officials all  across the land.  No longer will fat documents, full of fatuous rules, by plump lawyers for  fat fees, be written  to guide  nitwits in their conduct. 


What  a shame?  The sky is falling. The world must indeed be coming to an end.


Just when  genius in charge of  Aurora Farmers' Market have composed  their own Cof C  to deal with whatever evil  lurks beneath  mounds  of tomatoes and potatoes that appear on Wells Street stalls on Saturday mornings..

Well what else are we to think?

When  the jam lady, who makes jam, is compelled  to form  an edict whereby potato and tomato growers must be alerted to where the devil lurks and  how to avoid his evil coils.

Nigel Kean started the Market. But  it was massive knife-wielding moustachioed Granger who chased little girls selling iced lollies from a bicycle cart,  who  gave them their constitution..

Now look how far they have come from  humble beginnings.

         To  market, to market, to buy a fat pig,
         Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.

To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,

Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.

To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,

Home again, home again, market is done.