Celsius Zero
Michael Moore's new film Fahrenheit 911 is certainly getting all kinds of attention these days. Some people are hip to it, but others have brutally fact-checked his fat ass. Even so, it got me to thinking. If Bush was able to fix the election, knew in advance about 9-11 and staged a war just so that his buddies in the oil business would see some extra cash, then maybe he could also be responsible for certain other suspicious goings on in the world.
Specifically, I've never for the life of me been able to figure out how it is the Vancouver Canucks have never won the Stanley Cup. So like Mike, I did a little investigating.
The first place to start was the closest the Canucks ever came to winning - the 1994 Cup Finals. It turns out the referee for that game was one Terry Gregson. It turns out Mr. Gregson is a big fan of the game of golf. Just like President Bush. (Bush is actually shown golfing in F911) Mr. Gregson's website brags: "For 10 years I ran golf tournament for the Children's Wish Foundation and was able to raise significant funds." Sure Gregson, "significant funds" eh? You must think we are all pretty stupid if you think we can't put two and two together.
Does anyone else think it was a coincidence that Todd Bertuzzi's suspension for the entire playoffs opened the door for a team from the state of Florida to win the Stanley Cup? The very same state where Bush's brother is the governor and the place he stole the election? Now Bush is going after Bertuzzi in court, just like he did to Gore in 2000. Clearly the attempt to put Bertuzzi in jail is a ploy keep The Cup out of Vancouver for years to come.
In fact, you have to assume the Canucks were infiltrated by Bush operatives as far back as the '70s and '80s. Just who the hell was in charge of those lousy draft picks and illogical trades? I mean, come on, Barry Pederson for Cam Neely? I think Mike Keenan must have in on this somehow too.
If you're still not convinced, just let the photographic evidence do the talking:
It's the 1982 playoffs, and the calls have got so bad that Roger Nielson has resorted to waving the white towel. Over his right shoulder, behind the glassy poles, in the yellow t-shirt clearly stands a thirtysomething Bush smirking and laughing as his plot unfolds as planned. It's crystall clear.
Maybe I could make this all into a movie and take it to Cannes next year. Palme D'Or, here I come.
Specifically, I've never for the life of me been able to figure out how it is the Vancouver Canucks have never won the Stanley Cup. So like Mike, I did a little investigating.
The first place to start was the closest the Canucks ever came to winning - the 1994 Cup Finals. It turns out the referee for that game was one Terry Gregson. It turns out Mr. Gregson is a big fan of the game of golf. Just like President Bush. (Bush is actually shown golfing in F911) Mr. Gregson's website brags: "For 10 years I ran golf tournament for the Children's Wish Foundation and was able to raise significant funds." Sure Gregson, "significant funds" eh? You must think we are all pretty stupid if you think we can't put two and two together.
Does anyone else think it was a coincidence that Todd Bertuzzi's suspension for the entire playoffs opened the door for a team from the state of Florida to win the Stanley Cup? The very same state where Bush's brother is the governor and the place he stole the election? Now Bush is going after Bertuzzi in court, just like he did to Gore in 2000. Clearly the attempt to put Bertuzzi in jail is a ploy keep The Cup out of Vancouver for years to come.
In fact, you have to assume the Canucks were infiltrated by Bush operatives as far back as the '70s and '80s. Just who the hell was in charge of those lousy draft picks and illogical trades? I mean, come on, Barry Pederson for Cam Neely? I think Mike Keenan must have in on this somehow too.
If you're still not convinced, just let the photographic evidence do the talking:
It's the 1982 playoffs, and the calls have got so bad that Roger Nielson has resorted to waving the white towel. Over his right shoulder, behind the glassy poles, in the yellow t-shirt clearly stands a thirtysomething Bush smirking and laughing as his plot unfolds as planned. It's crystall clear.
Maybe I could make this all into a movie and take it to Cannes next year. Palme D'Or, here I come.
