Can you be candid in discussing the dead without seeming despicable?
We certainly hope so.
Canada’s media recently dedicated air, ink and pixels to the death of Rob Ford, 46. He was a father of two.
The names Mussatto, Walton and Smith barely reverberate on the other side of the Burrard Inlet but all of Canada and most of North America was well-versed in the bizarre downfall of Toronto’s infamous mayor. Barely more than a quarter of North Shore residents voted municipally in 2014 but it seems 100 per cent of us had something to say about Ford.
He was a punchline and everyone was in on the joke, even him at times, showing up on late-night talk shows.
We mourn for the man but not the mayor.
He demonized political opponents and despite a supposed love for the city, he repeatedly brought disgrace to the office of its chief magistrate.
He once participated in a council vote that concerned his own conflict of interest. And he lied. Even by the lowest standards set for politicians, he was a liar, dismissing concrete evidence of his crack-smoking as part of a convoluted witch hunt. Most didn’t believe him, but the pity was that some did; contributing to the worst kind of politics, the type that feeds on tribalism and paranoia.
The irony of the crack scandal is that Ford deserved exactly the treatment many in Ford Nation would happily deny all addicts: empathy.
His addiction wasn’t a joke, it was tragic.
Some commentators have said there will never be another politician like Rob Ford. Again, we certainly hope so.
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