Okay, so I’ll be the one to say it. A little suspicious of these crocodile tears over Rob Ford’s cancer. People who, with good reason, didn’t have a good word to say about him, all of a sudden retreated into this socially-mandated caterwauling about him as a valued husband, father, son, brother.

Reminds me of florid eulogies for lousy people that everyone attending the funeral knows is BS.

First of all, despite the cliched boilerplate public empathy, Rob Ford is a crappy husband, lied to and embarrassed his brother numerous times, couldn’t be making Mom proud and I can’t imagine a narcissist like him could be father of the year. That doesn’t mean he deserves to die, but c’mon, let’s not make Ford into something he isn’t so we can feel sorry for him.

Now I don’t take any joy in his illness. I just, honestly, can’t bring myself to gnash my teeth either. Granted, I don’t have teeth, but the reference still applies. No matter how this turns out for him, I can’t see my emotional landscape being altered.

Doctor says he doesn’t know if Ford being obese has anything to do with him getting a tumour in his fatty tissues, but logic says if he didn’t have the fat, he wouldn’t have a tumour that grows in fat. Ockham’s Razor. Look it up.

What’s my point? This is a man who has shown zero concern for his own health. He drinks to excess, smokes crack, eats to excess. He opposes ‘Hug a Thug’ but lives ‘Hug a Drug’. Even a microcephalic intelligence like Ford’s knows none of that is promoted by Hal Johnson and Joanne McLeod. If he hasn’t shown concern for his health, why all of a sudden should I?

I will save my active empathy for the kids with diseases like leukemia and adults with illnesses not brought on or furthered by their lifestyle choices and the Colonel’s buckets. Harsh? Maybe to those who feel a need to snap into show-pony displays of sadness, but when applied to a guy who inherited wealth that tells homeless kids to ‘get a job’, probably not.



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