I always knew that the beast Doug Ford was going to be a destructive force, and sure enough he has been.
He has bulldozed decency, teachers and children, and will no doubt soon start demolishing medicare.
But this is beyond belief.
I haven't written much about pipelines because quite frankly I got pipelined out during the Harper years.
And also because I have always considered the fuss over the Trans Mountain pipeline to be just a distraction from the real war on climate change.
But now that a court has halted that project.
I just want to say that I couldn't be more delighted for the following reasons.
If the weather in the Scottish highlands hadn't been so perfect, I might have written something in the last three weeks. Especially since somebody once said that if you want to write an insightful piece about Canada you have to leave it.
So I thought I might try to explain how the Cons and other hate mongers had managed to corrupt this country so much, with the help of our shabby media and a small army of dirty old men.
But the weather was so balmy, the sea air was so fresh and clean, and I had such a great time sailing up and down the north east coast and meeting old friends in places like this one...
Canada and its fetid problems seemed so far away, and so easy to forget.
Until I travelled down to Edinburgh to participate in this big anti-Trump rally protesting his presence in Scotland.
I've been trying to get away from the heat, and the crowds on the waterfront where I live, by heading out to the quietest and coolest part of the lake.
But while that works relatively well, there is something else I can't get away from no matter how far I go, or how hard I try.
And that's the stench of the Canadian political scene.
In a few hours I'll be leaving the country and setting off for Edinburgh, to attend the wedding of one of my oldest friends.
And since I'll be racing between that city, and my family home in the north of Scotland, I probably won't have time to blog until I return.
Scotland is a small, peaceful country, but one with a proud history of resistance dating back about two thousand years.
The people of that land have had to battle all kinds of invaders, from the Roman legions of the Emperor Hadrian, to in more modern times, the vulgar presence of the mad would be Emperor Donald Trump.
So these days when we too are called to resist him, and all can appear so dark and gloomy.
I thought you might enjoy Samantha Bee's humorous look at the original Trump haters.
It was only a tweet, but it was like a flash of decency in a darkening world.
It has been favourited more than 500,000 times already.
And it did send a powerful message to the bigot demagogue Donald Trump.
Of all the horrible things Donald Trump is threatening to do, and there are so many, his promise to end the war against climate change is the worst.
For there is no greater threat to the future of humanity, and his claim that climate change is a hoax is not just wrong, it's insane.
And if you want to know just how crazy he is, all you have to do is read his angry messages to the former First Minister of Scotland.
About four years ago I made three political wishes. The first one was that Stephen Harper and foul regime be totally destroyed.
And that one was granted.
My second wish was that the Republican Party suffer the same fate. And whoever wins the U.S. election that also seems likely to be granted.
Which leaves me with my third wish, the independence of Scotland.
Last Sunday was the second anniversary of Scotland's independence referendum, which as you may know, was for me a day of great disappointment.
And one I'll always remember.
But I haven't dared even mention the anniversary when talking to my family in the Scottish highlands, because for them it's a day best forgotten.
They don't want to talk about it. It's too traumatic.
And they all voted NO.
Every year when I return to my family home in Scotland I find myself doing the same things.
Reliving my childhood on the massive beaches that line the north east coast.
Returning to the bay where I first learned to sail, as the jet fighters from the nearby RAF base scream overhead.
In just a few hours I'll be leaving Canada and heading for my family home in the Scottish highlands.
And since I won't be able to do much blogging, and because the news is so grim these days, I thought I'd leave you with a message of hope.
A message from Bernie Sanders.
As Britain tries to recover from the shock of the Brexit referendum result. With its economy and its political scene in a turmoil.
And its racist bigots on a rampage.
I'm sure many of its REMAIN supporters were glad to hear Nicola Sturgeon, the First Minister of Scotland, vow to try to block Britain from divorcing the European Union.
In one of my last posts I tried to explain why most Scots hate Donald Trump so much.
And why so many are planning to protest his visit.
And now that he has arrived in that country, there was more evidence that Trump just doesn't get it.
And why he is unfit to be President of the United States.
It's hard for me to imagine a more disturbing image. This file picture of Donald Trump screaming like a maniac at one of his two Scottish gold courses. With a piper beaming behind him.
And in the background the grass covered dunes, that line the shore of the North Sea, that I used to play on when I was a boy.
It feels like a desecration. It's just too horrible.
But the good news is that Trump is heading back to Scotland tomorrow, and he's going to get a very different kind of reception.
It's the ultimate irony. Donald Trump the billionaire, who is always boasting about how much money he has.
The man who claimed he could self finance his own campaign.
Now finds himself in a really embarrassing position.
Up to his big mouth in a money pit of his own making.
For eighty-five years the statue of Lieutenant General Edward Cornwallis has loomed over a park in Halifax.
To honour him for being the first governor of Nova Scotia, and the founder of Halifax.
In recent years native groups have tried to have the statue taken down and his name removed from other parks, streets and buildings in Nova Scotia.
For his decision in 1749 to issue a bounty for the scalps of Mi’kmaq men, women and children.
But sadly I see that initiative has gone nowhere.
The other day I told you how Scotland was getting ready to welcome its first group of Syrian refugees, and how that small country had been working hard to try to make them feel at home.
In a country so different from the ones they were coming from.
Well now they have arrived, on a miserable cold wet afternoon in Glasgow, which must have made at least some of them wonder to what icy grey hell had they been condemned.
But they did get a warm welcome.
And this picture probably sums up how many of them were feeling...
I like to think that in some refugee camp in the Middle East, a mother and her children have just found out that they could be in Canada in just a few weeks.
And that they are a lot happier than they are in this photo.
For they have been living in hell.
So you can imagine how I felt when I saw that Brad Wall, the Premier of Saskatchewan, the Little Con on the Prairie, the ferocious oil pimp, thinks they and 25,000 other refugees should just cool their jets.
Because he thinks they're too dangerous.
They buried little Alan Kurdi, next to his brother and his mother yesterday, in the shattered Syrian town of Kobani.
Just a week ago he was apparently jumping up and down with excitement at the thought of going to Europe, in a boat.
But as we know, like so many other Syrian refugees, he never made it...
But although he lived for such a short time, and never knew anything but war, that poor little boy did achieve something amazing.