"When you are a bear of very little brain," said Pooh, "and you think of things, you find sometimes that a thing which seemed very thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."
Journal Entry from an Undisclosed Location in the Annieopsquotch Mountains, Newfoundland and Labrador:
I have recently perfected a miniature solar panel from tin cans which have been castoff in copious numbers along with wads of other waste throughout the wilderness. The invention allows me to maintain contact with the outside world as I keep one step ahead of my pursuers. Just this morning I received a call from my undercover contact in the city. "Is that you?" said RS from MP. "I haven't heard from you in months. I thought they had vaporized you."
"It's me," I said. "What's the scoop?"
"Big Eddie, Minister of Outports, is sending Mantracker Walsh, Deputy Minister of Justice, out beyond the wall to trace your trail and hunt you down like a dirty dingo. She's riding a big black clydesdale from the Constabulary's mounted unit. Wimpy Warr, MHA for Green Bay, is with her on another horse. You must have ticked him off too. Run away! Run Away!" he whispered urgently. "And be careful out there," he hissed. "They're all out to get you. Stay away from the Nalcor transmission line. That's the first place they'll look. I have to go now, Big Eddie's cousin, Georgie (Corleone) is coming down the corridor. Jeez, that guy gives me the creeps."
So I sit in my lonely bough-wiffen in these mountains contemplating the latest revelations from by snitch in Confederation Building.
As I tuned in to the CBC evening news on my iPhone I learned that there is a minor uprising at the Muskrat Falls site in Labrador. Apparently, the population of the Big Land objects to being poisoned to death by Nalcor and Premier Duh-wite's Forsaken Posse.
Perry (The Bunny) Trimper, Minister of Environmental Destruction, makes a muddled mundane meandering statement on the passionate protestors who are determined to fight. For once I am not alone, I thought.
Premier Duh-wite makes a statement. "I inherited the problem," said Duh-wite. "My hands are tied."
Or, as Pooh said, "don't underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear and not bothering."
Winnie the Pooh is still my favourite book. I didn't discover it until I was an adult because we didn't have a community library when I was a child growing up on the island. If Dr. Dale, Minister of Illiteracy, has his way, nobody will have a community library. Period.
I have read the book a total of 117 times since then and have it committed completely to memory.
Damn, I'm running out of power.
I love Pooh and tonight, under the bright hunter's moon, I miss him very much.