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Seriously Eds? Only Pro-Drumf allowed?

The newest Trump branded property opened this week in Vancouver, and was "enhanced" by the use of Mr Trump's favorite tool: alternative facts. As reported by CBC , and everyone else, The Trump International Hotel & Tower is described as "one of the tallest buildings in the city at 69 storeys high."

Problem is, the building permits were only for 63 floors.

The 69 floor count included underground parking garages, and the floor numbering above ground skipped floor 13, and each floor ending in four (4, 14, 24, and so on), so numbering the top floor penthouse as 69 was pretty much an arbitrary choice.

Still, the building is pretty yuge.

Vice.com has the entertaining tale of some clever wags who infiltrated the "Confederate pride, heritage not hate" Facebook group, and eventually turned it into "LGBT Southerners for Michelle Obama and Judaism."

And had great fun while doing it.

Once I was in charge of the group I decided to take it in a new direction. The Confederate flag, I felt, had become a toxic brand. And all this South-rising-again business was a sure loser with swing voters. A top-down rebranding was in order. After rigorous focus-group testing, I decided to align the group with LGBT rights, Michelle Obama, Judaism, miscegenation, and the victorious Juche ideology. And that is how "confederate pride, heritage not hate" became "LGBT Southerners for Michelle Obama and Judaism."

Lulz aside, the story actually offers a pretty good assessment of the technical skills of many Facebook users, and of the willingness of people to "Friend" pretty much anyone who asks. And to then give them Admin privileges....

Oh well, it's Election time in Canada, and I'm pretty sure there's a Stephen Harper Facebook group somewhere!

Actually what we've seen here is pretty much the usual pattern for new not-for-profit entity. It just usually takes more than two weeks for the person driving the new organization to get pushed out the window and blamed for every problem.

Good on ya Barrabas - you managed to pull off something pretty damned amazing. I feel secure in saying that we would not have this site today if it hadn't been for you.

Now, for the rest of "staff," a little advice.

FOR GOD SAKE SHUT UP ABOUT BARRABAS AND WHATEVER HAPPENED!

You're sounding like spoiled children, and nothing will turn off people like this endless he said/she said whining. Ninety percent of people couldn't care less about internal bickering, and every time you raise it you just send them out the door.

If Barrabas wants a couple thousand bucks just give it to him, write it off, and move on. It's peanuts in the grand scheme of things, and getting this mess wrapped up quickly will be worth a lot more than that. Once again, ninety percent of people don't care, and especially don't care to listen to people bicker about eligible expenses.

Be careful what you wish for. Based on what I've seen in the last couple of days you folks on "staff" are probably heading a for a world of self-inflicted pain.

If you can force out the guy who started the project after only two weeks, you can bet dollars to donuts that at least some of the people on "staff" will find yourselves under similar pressure the first time that someone gets their shorts in a knot.

It's not about whether or not there were valid reasons (and at this point there's no way that anyone will ever know for sure); it's about establishing an organizational culture that says that leaders should be toppled at the drop of a hat.

A week ago I though that this site had a very good chance of surviving and thriving. Now, and I'm speaking after decades of non-profit work, I'd give it 50/50 at best.

It's now your choice: are you professionals, or children?

As usual, Tommy Douglas had it right, way back in 1944. “You see, my friends, the trouble wasn’t with the colour of the cat. The trouble was that they were cats. And because they were cats, they naturally looked after cats instead of mice.”

MOUSELAND – A Political fable told by Tommy Douglas 1944

It’s the story of a place called Mouseland. Mouseland was a place where all the little mice lived and played, were born and died. And they lived much the same as you and I do.

They even had a Parliament. And every four years they had an election. Used to walk to the polls and cast their ballots. Some of them even got a ride to the polls. And got a ride for the next four years afterwards too. Just like you and me. And every time on election day all the little mice used to go to the ballot box and they used to elect a government. A government made up of big, fat, black cats.

Now if you think it strange that mice should elect a government made up of cats, you just look at the history of Canada for last 90 years and maybe you’ll see that they weren’t any stupider than we are.

Now I’m not saying anything against the cats. They were nice fellows. They conducted their government with dignity. They passed good laws–that is, laws that were good for cats. But the laws that were good for cats weren’t very good for mice. One of the laws said that mouseholes had to be big enough so a cat could get his paw in. Another law said that mice could only travel at certain speeds–so that a cat could get his breakfast without too much effort.

All the laws were good laws. For cats. But, oh, they were hard on the mice. And life was getting harder and harder. And when the mice couldn’t put up with it any more, they decided something had to be done about it. So they went en masse to the polls. They voted the black cats out. They put in the white cats.

Now the white cats had put up a terrific campaign. They said: “All that Mouseland needs is more vision.” They said: “The trouble with Mouseland is those round mouseholes we got. If you put us in we’ll establish square mouseholes.” And they did. And the square mouseholes were twice as big as the round mouseholes, and now the cat could get both his paws in. And life was tougher than ever.

And when they couldn’t take that anymore, they voted the white cats out and put the black ones in again. Then they went back to the white cats. Then to the black cats. They even tried half black cats and half white cats. And they called that coalition. They even got one government made up of cats with spots on them: they were cats that tried to make a noise like a mouse but ate like a cat.

You see, my friends, the trouble wasn’t with the colour of the cat. The trouble was that they were cats. And because they were cats, they naturally looked after cats instead of mice.

Presently there came along one little mouse who had an idea. My friends, watch out for the little fellow with an idea. And he said to the other mice, “Look fellows, why do we keep on electing a government made up of cats? Why don’t we elect a government made up of mice?” “Oh,” they said, “he’s a Bolshevik. Lock him up!” So they put him in jail.

But I want to remind you: that you can lock up a mouse or a man but you can’t lock up an idea.