TRYING TO FORMULATE what I believe, I have to begin with what I disbelieve. I disbelieve in progress, the pursuit of happiness, and all the concomitant notions and projects for creating a society in which human beings find ever greater contentment by being given in ever greater abundance the means to satisfy their material and bodily hopes and desires.By MALCOLM MUGGERIDGE
IT'S TAKEN SEVERAL YEARS of political debate, the retooling of an entire industry, an investment of countless millions, and one of the costliest promotion campaigns in Canadian history. But now the waiting period is over and the investment is starting to pay dividends.
TINY BEADS OF SWEAT stood out on the upper lip of the hospital's senior resident as he made out the death certificate. It was hot and stuffy in the ward and the presence of your death seemed to make the air even heavier. On the form's blocked out squares the doctor printed your name in quick sprawling capitals.By IAN ADAMS
THE KID'S VOICE is high-pitched and his eyes are big and appealing. "Shine, mister?” he asks, as though his next meal depended on the answer. Several hard hearts pass him by and feel guilty for it. They don t really need shines but they feel guilty just the same.
THERE'S A LAW I once devised that says the more physical, the more dangerous, the sport, the prettier and fluffier are the girl followers. It's the Edmonds Go-Kill-Me-ATiger-Darling Law, and there's no better place to test it than at an auto race meeting.By ALAN EDMONDS
MANKIND CAN’T SEEM to get along without its superstitions, and the latest is that there's something magic about a college degree. From all directions we're being told that we need bigger and better universities and more graduates when, already, the handful of young men and women who used to be depicted in the Bulova watch ads wearing mortarboards and marching up a hill into the sunrise, all looking as if they were going to find a cure for something, has increased until there are 200,000 at university in Canada, costing $407 million a year.By ROBERT THOMAS ALLEN
CONTEST NO. 6 Schooldays, schooldays. Dear old golden rule days, Readin’ and writin’ and ’rithmetic, Taught to the tune of a hickory stick, I was your queen in calico You were my barefoot bashful beau And I wrote on my slate “I love you Joe,” When we were a couple of kids.
ARE LARGE Canadian corporations the Medici of our times — patronizing young painters and sculptors so as to leave the best possible art work of the age to future generations? Well, the real aim is the same—that is, the perpetuation of a family or corporate “image."By SANDRA PEREDO
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