When it looked like we were going to have a spring election, I threatened to post this once a week thoughout the election campaign. I probably should have posted it once a week throughout this campaign. Canadians need to read this story on a regular basis.
The Story of Mouseland
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 the last 90 years and maybe you'll see that they weren't any stupider then 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 mouse holes 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 that 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 mouse holes we got. If you put us in we'll establish square mouse holes." And they did. And the square mouse holes were twice as big as the round mouse holes, and now the cat could get both paws in. And life was tougher then ever.
And when they couldn't take that anymore, they voted the white cats out and put the black one's in again. Then they went back to the white cats. Then to the black cats. They even tried half black 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 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.
--Tommy Douglas, 1944
There was an addition to the original story made by By Christopher Levan at the Annual Meeting of the Canadian Unitarian Council on May 19, 2000.
The proverbial cats have gotten wiser and fatter, hired new spin-doctors and reverted to some old ways.
They have declared that enlarged mouse holes are the wave of the future. Too many mice have been cheating—holding back or hiding. We make the mice more self-reliant and vigorous if more cat paws are scratching their otherwise lazy behinds. Implementing programs using politically correct vocabulary — "opportunity" "skill sets" "retooling," "life style enhancement," we open up the mouse colony to all comers.
When the dust settles, these inspired initiatives add up to more wounded bodies and frightened rodents. Any mice that complain are of course, just a special interest group and can be disregarded as hopelessly biased. After all, the cats can no longer afford to subsidize small pickings from the mice population and without larger mouse holes the whole feline economy will collapse.
In addition to inspiring more vigour among otherwise recalcitrant mice, the country's cats have joined with cats around the world and agreed that some important issues need to be taken out of the claws of local authorities and given to international feline societies. So mouse hole sizes, feeding rates, local micely customs and other important matters will now be handled at a higher council. So, it won't matter if the mice elect themselves into government the really important issues will still be decided by fat cats—most of whom don't run for office anywhere.
In concert with these new reforms, the cats sold the responsibility to regularize certain more minor domestic issues—care of sick mice for instance— to dog syndicates who function as profit centres. They have no interest or responsibility in the welfare of the mice population—not really. They are just offering a service—pay as you go. If canines get too greedy, their avarice will be checked by the market—supply and demand—as the mice decline in health and numbers the dogs will naturally adjust their standards.
Finally, some of the cats are appointing cat public corporations to carry out all new mouse hole protection and maintenance. The elected cats are no longer in charge—it's specially appointed cat committees that all have a few token mice one them, that make the decisions on whose claws to clip. So when the mice complain about the lack of surveillance or protection of their mouse holes. "Gosh," say the fat cats, "That's a terrible pity, but its no longer in our hands. We don't make decisions, just set general policy."
"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." There are those among us who believe that electing a Conservative goverment in this election will change something. It will - it will change the colour of the cats.