Toronto Life: Spectator

Spectator

Posts with category ‘General’


So Long. Farewell. Auf wiedersehen. Goodbye.

This is my last post for Spectator, as I am moving onward and upward, or backward and downward, depending on your point of view. I’ve gotten a real kick out of the past 16 months, first blogging about the Conrad Black trial, then more broadly on whatever it was I’ve spent the past five months mouthing off about.

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Magazine maven Bonnie Fuller poised to market her toughest brand yet: Herself

The gap between Canada Day and the star-spangled Fourth is a good time to reflect on the differences, similarities and absurdities that define the decidedly imbalanced relation between our “two great nations.” (My colleague Andrew Clark, The Guardian’s man in New York, full of ill-informed good cheer, saluted our national day thusly: “Happy St. Canada’s Day. Hope the turkey and cheesy fries go down well.”) And while I’m sure it was inadvertent, The New York Times did devote rather a lot of space—the lead feature in last Sunday’s business section—to one of our own: the inevitable Bonnie Fuller. The writer was David Carr, the Times’s go-to guy on the media biz, who contends that Fuller—whose peripatetic risings and fallings in the New York magazine world are the stuff of endless clucking—is to our celebutante-inebriated culture as Einstein was to quantum theory. (That’s a, er, rough analogy, but you get my drift.) To wit: “Through nearly two decades of vision and relentlessness, Ms. Fuller created a way of objectifying the A- and B-list that turned celebrities into not only our ‘friends,’ but also American royals, unelected gods who walk among us.”

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John Macfarlane grabs The Walrus’s tiller

Take this with however big a grain of salt as you like. John Macfarlane, the man who hired me to write this blog and who used to edit Toronto Life, is taking over as co-publisher and part-time editor of The Walrus magazine on an interim basis. As I’ve suggested here before, The Walrus is a decidedly good thing. Thousands of Canadian magazine readers were cut adrift when Saturday Night went under, and they washed up on Ken Alexander’s shores. That said, though, the fact remains that the editorial and managerial life of The Walrus has been somewhat, how to say, stormy under his regime. Macfarlane will bring a steady hand to the tiller while the magazine rides out its co-founder’s departure and the current economic unpleasantness. A smart move all the way around.

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Received wisdom not yet in place for the Internet

Lately, I spent some time talking to a guy whose job it is to advise another guy (one with more money) exactly what the future holds for the media. In that kind of job, it’s important to have forceful, reasoned views that point the way to concrete action. Why else would the latter pay the former to tell him what to do with his money? As required, the former went out and did scads of research into the future of the Internet—most importantly how to “monetize” content, which is the question pretty much everyone’s asking at the moment. At one point, he patted a stack of papers in front of him and announced that research shows people don’t want to watch TV on the Internet; they want to watch TV on their TVs. He said this in an effort to buttress his argument that people don’t “migrate” from one media to another (radio to TV, TV to the Internet, the Internet to another solar system, etc., etc.). Why then is The New York Times reporting that Google—one of the experts on how to monetize the Web—has just signed a deal with the creator of the cartoon Family Guy, Seth MacFarlane, to provide Web-only distribution for original material?

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Satirists of Canada: Your day has come!

The past few days have seen a considerable improvement in the climate for free speech in this country. First, the Canadian Human Rights Commission pitched out the egregious complaint filed by the Canadian Islamic Congress against Maclean’s (and Mark Steyn). And now, the Supreme Court of Canada, courtesy of the good offices of Justice Ian Binnie, reconfirmed the importance of and extended the purview of what counts as fair comment. A read-through of Binnie’s opinion—which spoke for the court’s 9–0 rout reversing a B.C. Court of Appeal decision that favoured anti-gay activist Kari Simpson over shock jock Rafe Mair—reveals a veritable free speech manifesto:

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Margaret Wente’s take on gay pride proves that one kind of prejudice is still OK

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On a day when North Korea more or less gave up her nukes and the axis of evil was reduced to the axle of evil (and what with the surge going as well as it is, soon Iran will stand apart: a lone beacon of general depravity), there is much to celebrate. And yet somehow the Globe’s Margaret Wente tortures me still. Her subject yesterday: gay pride. Her lead, written in a “mocking” style, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that sarcasm really is the lowest form of humour: “Yes, folks, it’s that time of year again. Time to get out the feathers and the leathers and the nipple rings, and celebrate the wonderful diversity that is Pride Day.” Isn’t that clever? By suggesting that gay people—men and women alike—only wear leathers and nipple rings on Pride Day, “folks” like us can safely ridicule them and their “wonderful diversity.” Why? Because deep down inside, they know themselves how silly they all are? Why else would they only dress like that once a year? One thing you can safely say about Wente is that she is clearly unafraid of being either ignorant or stupid. Hell, she embraces it.

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Denied: Posner’s wry prose more or less sends Black to jail until 2013

Yesterday, in 16 pages of tightly woven legal reasoning, Richard Posner more or less put paid to whatever faint hope remained that Conrad Black will see a free day anytime before 2013. Moreover, he ensures that, barring a judicial miracle, Black’s co-conspirators Jack Boultbee and Peter Atkinson will join him as guests of the United States on or about July 10. Posner is among the most estimable minds on the American bench, and his decision reflects its author’s eclectic, sometimes eccentric, but always razor sharp intellect. The prose possessed a sniffily dismissive and wry air. In explaining the nub of Black’s fraudulent endeavours Posner writes:

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Eddie Greenspan’s moment in the sun

Three days in, it’s pretty clear. With the cross-examinations of Gordon Eckstein and Maria Messina in the defence of Garth Drabinsky, Edward Greenspan seeks nothing short of vindication for his client and himself. After last summer’s mistake by the American lake, wherein his brutal cross-examination of David Radler had even his co-counsel objecting, Eddie is back on the beaten path—and loving it. This time, there are no more jack-in-the-box objections from impertinent Yankee grade schoolers. But there is plenty of time and latitude to roam through and excoriate the half-truths, prevarications and damnable lies of the Crown’s witnesses to what “they call crimes.”

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Livent trial hears of clock being pelted at former CFO

Eddie Greenspan’s continuing cross-examination of Maria Messina at the Livent trial took an odd turn shortly after noon yesterday when, in his continuing effort to erode, corrode and generally subvert Ms. Messina’s credibility, he mocked her testimony that former Livent finance VP Gord Eckstein once threw a clock at her during a meeting: “Do you recall how close it came [to hitting you?]… You must have thought he was stark raving mad…Sybil had run amok.”

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On not being famous at Moses Znaimer’s IdeaCity

It’s a Friday night in Toronto’s Distillery District, a vast commercial, residential and “arts” space installed in a renovated booze factory close to downtown. I’ve come to attend one of Moses Znaimer’s “legendary” IdeaCity parties, held at this time every year as part of a three-day festival attracting “luminaries” to the city. There’s a rather elaborate entry protocol, which involves me standing around a long while waiting to be confirmed. Once in the door, I feel practically naked as I don’t have a giant badge with my name on it indicating that I’ve paid Moses however many thousands of dollars to listen to 20-minute snatches of wisdom selected by him. Among this year’s merchants of wiseness are Margaret Atwood, listed as a “Canadian literary icon”; Christie Hefner, written up as “CEO Playboy Enterprises” (now there’s an idea!); and Betty Krawczyk, “Head Raging Granny.”

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Falling over ourselves to pay tribute to Tim Russert

Tim Russert, in case you hadn’t noticed, is dead. The longest serving host of the NBC political chat show Meet the Press passed to his eternal reward recently, and the Excited States of America lived up (or down) to its somewhat sardonic anglophilic nickname. At his memorial service, Bruce Springsteen sang and eulogized via video hookup. This in tribute to Russert’s working-class roots in benighted Buffalo (a city rapidly overtaking Detroit as a symbol of rust belt decline). At the “request of the family,” McCain and Obama sat together at the funeral, implying that, even in death, only Tim could reconcile America’s political divide. And more or less anyone in the media who deemed his passing worth mentioning was slavering in their praise. Even the New Yorker’s cleverer-than-thou David Remnick heaped on the praise with just the right touch of superiority.

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Nortel, Livent, BCE: A red-letter day for white-collar law

White-collar law, both civil and criminal, dominates this morning’s headlines: the Livent trial is ongoing, the BCE decision is expected from the Supremes later this afternoon and the RCMP is finally charging execs from Nortel and Royal Group Technologies (coverage of this last story comes complete with perp-walk photos and an alleged fraudster named—I kid you not—Vic De Zen).

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Finger wagging, browbeating, accusation, innuendo, disdain: Just another day at the Livent trial

As expected, Eddie Greenspan was in full flight today as he launched his cross-examination of former Livent CFO Maria Messina. He started by telling his prey that they would be spending quite a while together and advised her to confine herself to the specific questions he was asking. This led to 90 minutes of finger wagging, browbeating, accusation, innuendo and outright disdain. He characterized her consulting for a downtown Toronto law firm—one charged with representing the interests of Livent against their former executives Drabinsky and Gottlieb—as the “Stikeman Elliott witness protection program.” Furthermore, Eddie “accused” her of “taking three million bucks to prepare testimony in an effort to convict Garth Drabinsky and Myron Gottlieb.” It was all jolly innuendo accompanied by the usual apt and brash theatrics. What does it all amount to? Stay tuned.

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Grist for the Greenspan mill: A new witness steps up at the Livent trial

After a week’s interregnum, the Livent trial gears up again this morning with the cross-examination of former CFO Maria Messina. In her testimony to date, Messina more or less confirmed everything Livent’s other primary bean counter, Gord Eckstein, told the court about Garth Drabinsky and Myron Gottlieb’s alleged perpetual motion fraud machine. The difference highlighted by the Greenspans’ last ferocious cross-examination is that Eckstein is a pretty horrible guy: arrogant, mendacious and given to obscenity. Messina, on the other hand, has (so far) come off as saintly and long-suffering. She repeatedly testified that during her time at Livent she was “immobilized by fear” and that in preparing her memos revealing the fraud to new management, her hands shook so badly she had to get somebody else in the office to type it.

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In the debate over Google’s effect on humanity, everyone is missing one big issue

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For the second time this week, I’m taking my lead from The Atlantic (it’s the best magazine in the world right now, making even The New Yorker appear precious and overwrought). Unsurprisingly, the two articles that stirred me to blog were both (a) about the Web and (b) rife with fundamental, flummoxing misperception. I’ve already written about Mark Bowden’s piece on the Web-induced demise of The Wall Street Journal. Now for the big kahuna: Nicholas Carr’s take on Google. Titled “Is Google Making Us Stupid,” this cover story has been sticking in bloggers’ craws all week, inspiring them to pee on hydrants to mark their view on the current state of media, the Web and the human condition. Carr’s view is clear: the hypertext world of Google is slowly eroding our capacity for sustained contemplation, thereby flattening our collective intelligence. One thing is also clear: the piece has an enormous blind spot.

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Christie Blatchford and Tim Hortons: Barometers of all things Canadian

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Sometimes it’s best just to report the facts as you know them and leave the opining to your betters. Here, for example, is Christie Blatchford in this morning’s Globe reporting on the goings-on at yesterday’s terrorism trial in Brampton:

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As long as the CBC is losing things…

OK, so CBC lost Hockey Night in Canada’s theme music. Now, having set that happy precedent, perhaps the Ceeb brain trust might, for the sake of good taste and our collective sanity, consider losing this jacket (and maybe even the guy in it).

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Pot calls kettle black in ongoing feud between print and Web journalists

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The July-August issue of The Atlantic includes a piece by lead features scribbler Mark Bowden (Black Hawk Down) on the recent goings-on at the Wall Street Journal. In it, Bowden writes a predictable lament regarding the demise of long-form, responsible journalism in newspapers. The cause? The Web, of course, and Web-enabling buccaneer capitalists like Rupert Murdoch. All of which is fine, after a fusty Luddite fashion. But when Bowden gets up on his hind legs and announces that the Web “has yet to develop institutions capable of replacing print newspapers as vehicles for great in-depth journalism, or conscious of themselves as upholding a public trust,” I tend to get a little pissy. My debunking, after the jump.

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Fallout continues after Conrad Black’s contentious appeals hearing

The fallout from Lord Black’s contentious appeals hearing included the now-familiar bumptious rebuttal from his Lordship, backed up by the usual ventriloquism offered up by George Jonas of the National Post. In all this, there was the assertion that judges Posner and Sykes were, as Black put it, “essentially part of the prosecution.” Whatever his motivation throughout the hearing, Posner was by turns caustic, sarcastic, incredulous and dismissive. Afterwards, Andrew Frey noted that it’s an appeals judge’s job to be skeptical and that it was unlikely that Posner would come off the bench and give him a hug.

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How Mark Steyn got Canada on the cover of the New York Times

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Whenever our home and native land gets a mention in the mighty New York Times, we feel that concomitant frisson of recognition. For a moment, we’re a little closer to the centre of things. Today we made the front page above the fold, and not in a way that was especially flattering. The subject, in part, is the discrimination complaint before the B.C. Human Rights Tribunal involving a piece Mark Steyn wrote for Maclean’s. I’ve written before about this sorry situation and expressed my opinion that the sooner we put paid to this sort of frivolous prosecution, the better. While Times legal reporter Adam Liptak takes seriously the Supreme Court’s efforts to balance speech rights with other societal concerns, he appears to imply that the situation in B.C. is the bridge too far. His argument, after the jump.

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Peter Munk interview at Indigo goes awry due to rowdy audience member

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Balzac’s neatly turned observation that “behind every great fortune there is a crime” has developed into a veritable shibboleth of the activist left. One thing is sure: if you make or inherit a great fortune, it’s a lock you’ll be accused of a great crime. Gates is a monopolist, Murdoch a closet fascist, Thomson a virtual polygamist, and don’t even get me started on all those Russians. Tuesday night in Toronto I saw this phenomenon in action. Peter Munk, whose Barrick Gold Corporation has developed into one of the great Canadian money-spinners of recent times, was interviewed on the stage at Indigo Books. His interlocutor was his daughter, Vanity Fair contributor Nina Munk. The subject of the chat was supposed to be a new book by Munk the Younger and Rachel Gotlieb that is titled The Art of Clairtone and celebrates the design innovations of Peter Munk’s long-defunct stereo company. The evening went more or less as planned, with Nina asking Peter straightforward journalistic questions concerning the content of her book. And then, in a moment, things went haywire.

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A three-sheet salute to The Walrus’s Ken Alexander

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The word went out last night: Ken Alexander—perpetually described (yet again this morning in the Globe) as “colourful, chain-smoking and tempestuous,” or some such code for irascible and sodden—is calling it quits after four years of editing The Walrus. In short order, the periodical essentially replaced Saturday Night as Canada’s national magazine of high-end, long-form magazine journalism. It was this shift—exacerbated by Alexander’s studied old-money indifference to forelock tugging and civility—that brought down the wrath of the established journalistic orders (see Robert Fulford in the pages of Toronto Life). Over the course of Alexander’s tenure, The Walrus simultaneously attracted and repelled talent. The result was an earnest, ambitious, if somewhat worthy publication.

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Bernardo tape released to the media, but not without pointless proviso

One of the surreal aspects of our 24-hour real-time media universe came into precise focus this morning in Justice David McComb’s fourth-floor courtroom at 361 University Avenue. He ordered that copies of Paul Bernardo’s interview with police regarding the Robert Baltovich case be released to the press. The order was carried out over a couple of hours, rendering the logistics in this matter chaotic, if not absurd. While a gaggle of press vultures (including this stooped reporter) hung over his shoulder, Iain MacKinnon—the lawyer who argued on behalf of CBC, CTV, CanWest and Rogers—burned copies of the original onto DVDs in order to make good on the court’s order. He even used his own laptop.

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Canada’s other national anthem sold to the highest bidder

After a 40-year run on CBC, Hockey Night in Canada has lost its theme song to CTV. Composer Dolores Claman—who had held out for a better licensing deal from CBC and then turned around and sold the rights in perpetuity to its competitor—said, “I am very moved by how so many Canadians have taken the hockey theme to heart. We are so pleased the song has found a new home.” What sentimentality. She made a smart financial decision. At any rate, the fool in all this is the CBC’s bumbler-in-chief, Richard Stursberg. He’s in charge of the national broadcaster and allowed its arguably most recognizable icon to slip through his fingers. Nice work. At least he’s still got George Stroumboulopoulos.

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Two rich white guys face a higher power

Here are a couple of stray observations on a steamy Toronto Monday. Friday night, Peter C. Newman won a National Magazine Award for his magisterial take on the Conrad Black trial in the pages of Toronto Life. From the podium, he thanked the man himself. Mr. Black noted in the pages of Saturday’s Post that, to his mind, this “outpouring of sentimental celebration…is a nostalgic re-enactment of the leftist ritual of self-indulgent historical myth-making.” He was writing about the 40th anniversary of student rioting in France, but as an expression of his likely take on Newman’s triumph, it’ll do just fine.

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Margaret Wente “reports” on the misery of latte lovers

Writing a regular column for a major newspaper is unbelievably hard work. And far be it from me to gainsay the efforts of someone who manages to crank out that much content several times a week. The best columnists appear to be satisfied with ignoring the currency or “newsworthiness” of their observations in favour of broader themes that, irrespective of the news, make the column relevant.

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The newsworthiest breast in Canada

At this time last week, l’affaire Bernier was taking wing and sending a Canadian news story flying around the world: “Over the course of 72 hours in midweek,” reported the Globe, “Ms. Couillard was the subject of thousands of articles and 821 TV reports in no fewer than 61 countries.” Moreover, “she took sole possession of a remarkable six per cent of all U.S. news coverage.” But in the blogosphere—where currency is the, uh, currency—sometimes it takes a solid week for a particular issue to come into focus. Take, for instance, John Barber’s “satire” of this coverage in last Saturday’s Globe. It was printed under the slug “Analysis” and titled “Thousands of articles, 821 TV shows, 61 countries and one breast.” That “breast” is the first of seven mentions (eight, if you count the cutline) in the piece, accompanied by two instances of the more ribald “knockers.”

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Lesson #18,330,424 from the Conrad Black trial: Simplify

For as long as he remains a guest of the United States—and perhaps right to the gates of Paradise—I suspect Conrad Black will hear ringing in his ears the following exchange between Judge Richard Posner and Andrew Frey recorded at Black’s oral appeal to the Seventh Circuit (I’ve edited the exchange for the purposes of clarity):

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Just another day at 361: Paul Bernardo to the left, Livent to the right

A courthouse is, by definition, a Petri dish of the absurd. The courthouse at 361 University Avenue was no exception yesterday as a hearing into the hows and wherefores of releasing the Bernardo tape took place simultaneously with (and not five yards away from) Brian Greenspan’s continued dismantling of Gord Eckstein at the Livent trial. Several members of the fourth estate hopped back and forth between the two, and the attendant vertigo was almost too much to bear.

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Conrad Black’s last kick at the can

The Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals calendar has it listed for 9:30 a.m. Central Time this morning: Conrad Black’s last kick at the can (short of an appeal to the Supreme Court), “07-4080, 08-1030, 08-1072 & 08-1106; USA v. Black 30 min.”

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Foul language bumps Livent trial rating up to PG-13

The air turned a distinct shade of blue today at the Livent trial when the normally avuncular Brian Greenspan, having taken over his brother’s cross-examination of Gordon Eckstein, reacquainted the former Livent CFO with his expressed feelings for his former employers. Reading from a deposition given by a former Livent employee, Greenspan read testimony in open court stating that Eckstein had on numerous occasions referred to his bosses as “fuckheads, shitheads and idiots.”

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Might Thomson Reuters try to buy The New York Times?

As noted yesterday by my august colleague Philip Preville, the Globe and Mail has, in its infinite wisdom, eliminated one of the ways it annoys the readers of its print manifestation. They have officially ended the idiotic practice of charging for double-dipping—that is, charging for Web access to their premium material. The New York Times, a somewhat more essential read, has been free since September and the Wall Street Journal—from which the Globe still takes sloppy seconds in the business section—is moving more and more in that direction. The Globe’s archive is another matter; it remains behind a pay wall whereas the Times is mostly gratis. Still, for the Globe, it’s a start.

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Pressure’s rising in the Livent trial, as Greenspan’s cross-exam goes into day five

Yesterday was Gordon Eckstein’s fifth day under cross-examination in the Livent trial, and for fans of Eddie Greenspan’s particular brand of withering, scornful sarcasm—the kind he marshalled against David Radler to mixed reviews—yesterday’s midday cross-exam was of pure vintage. Going back and forth as to the propriety of “papering the house” (i.e., buying up tickets, then giving them away so as to give the impression of a full house), Eddie and Eckstein snapped at each other like a couple of Dobermans scrapping for sport.

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Conrad Black looking to teach, rewrite history

He haunts us still. Conrad Black—newly minted instructor of American history at Coleman Federal Correctional Institute—takes his case before the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals this Thursday, with the help of his able appeals lawyer, Andrew Frey. Oral arguments are limited to a half-hour on both sides, with yellow and red lights aflashin’ to ensure a timely disposal of the arguments. Steve Skurka has a piece on the National Post’s Web site that neatly summarizes the case on both sides.

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When it comes to the ethics of embedding journalists, Christie Blatchford misses the big picture (again)

I spent last week working in L.A.—an experience like no other, one that could make even the most deluded dreamer crave Toronto’s low-ceilinged ambitions. On Monday, seeking to inoculate myself against the general lunacy abroad in the land, I attended a sober Memorial Day ceremony at the Los Angeles National Cemetery. And while even this event had its share of native nuttiness (among the colour guard was an outfit called the Sons of Confederate Veterans, complete with period costume and a confederate flag), I was still struck by the unironic and severe atmosphere that is central to such American commemorations. During the Pledge of Allegiance, every person present (save the odd interloper) enunciated the national creed loudly and clearly, right hand draped over heart: “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

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Media commentary can still surprise

Media commentary—whether it’s Gawker, Michael Wolf, Noam Chomsky or little old indispensable me—has a tendency toward (how to put this delicately?) apocalyptic gloom mongering. But every so often there’s a bright moment that reminds you why you’d rather eat your cat than miss the morning paper. My latest reminder came on page B13 of this morning’s New York Times. Some time ago, the Times started including little editorial comments to explain the ratings of the movies they review. Beneath a glowing review (Toronto Life’s review gave it zero stars, FYI) of a thriller-horror flick titled The Strangers we find in italics the following: “‘The Strangers” is rated R (under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian) Coitus is interruptus and killing is not”

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CityTV celebrates Ted Rogers’ 75th birthday by flouting journalistic standards

Canada’s idea of a media mogul (i.e., bland and ruthless), billionaire Ted Rogers (number 173 on the Forbes list, with seven-odd billion dollars), turned 75 years old on Tuesday. Rogers still makes news, and his pursuit of an NFL franchise for Toronto is one of the big business and sports stories of the moment. So when CityTV’s Web site decides to cover its owner’s birthday, while it’s a stretch, it does not beggar all credulity. If you were expecting a bland, pleasantly inoffensive statement of fact, much in keeping with the man himself, then you’d be wrong. CityTV provided a jaw-dropping hagiographic blow job that makes Mark Steyn’s coverage of Conrad Black look like All the President’s Men.

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What a difference a year makes for Eddie Greenspan

While Garth Drabinsky struggles mightily to remain among the unconvicted and non-felonious, the man making his case is in something of a battle of his own. Through the course of the Conrad Black trial, Edward Greenspan’s reputation as Canada’s defence attorney nonpareil took a ferocious beating. Leaving aside his client’s conviction, the much-publicized antipathy between himself and the jury, and his often rancorous relations with lawyers for Black’s co-accused, there still remains outstanding, as a matter of public record (courtesy Mark Steyn and Maclean’s), the accusation that he and Ed Genson (Black’s co-counsel) each demanded a substantial extra payment on the eve of closing arguments. So, in seeking to afford Drabinsky the best defence possible, Eddie, like a relief pitcher coming off a particularly severe shelling, is looking to impress on this, his next trip to the mound.

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Greenspan treats Eckstein like so much Radler

At the trial of Garth Drabinsky yesterday, Eddie Greenspan began his cross-examination of the Crown’s star witness, former Livent senior VP of finance Gordon Eckstein. And from all reports, it was Radler redux, as Eddie accused Drabinsky of everything short of sacking Rome. To wit, reported The Globe and Mail:

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On the hook for Conrad Black’s legal bills

There’s a thick vein of irony running through the tortuously long odyssey of United States v. Conrad Black, et al. And with the final chapter to be written June 5 (when oral arguments are made before the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals), Judge Leo Strine of the Delaware Court of Chancery offers one of the richest paradoxes to date. Strine, you might remember, effectively blocked Black’s efforts to sell the Telegraph out from under Hollinger International shareholders. Regarding that case of corporate litigation, Strine wrote: “It became almost impossible for me to credit his word…. I found Black evasive and unreliable. His explanations of key events and of his own motivations do not have the ring of truth.”

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Toro rides again

Wednesday saw the launch—or, more precisely, the relaunch—of Toromagazine.com. Toro, you might remember, was a National Magazine Award–winning men’s magazine distributed through subscriber copies of The Globe and Mail between 2003 and 2007. Toro was beautifully designed and well written, covering a lot of journalistic ground in unexpected ways (Gare Joyce’s profile of Michael Ignatieff was, and probably is, the most original take on Macbeth along the Rideau to date). And it did all this without ceding any ground as a stylin’ men’s mag. It was a community of writers, editors, designers, illustrators and photographers (of which I’m proud to say—full disclosure—I was one). The contributors were likely names that, if you’re Canadian, you’ve heard before: Derek Finkle, Graham Roumieu, Charles Foran, Mark Kingwell, Mark Schatzker, Russell Smith, and the wonderfully monikered sex columnist Bebe O’Shea (actually playwright Claudia Dey).

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Drabinsky trial inspires various takes on the F-bomb

The word fuck had a red-letter outing in yesterday afternoon’s Web reports of the goings-on at the Drabinsky trial. All told, the king of all obscenity found its way into three stories eight times, with only the Globe daring to spell it out in full, while the Star and Post opted for the more genteel f**k.

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In defence of Mark Steyn

A couple of weeks ago, I reported in this space about Mark Steyn’s appearance at Indigo’s Bay and Bloor store, during which Heather Reisman interviewed him. I suggested the event might better have been titled “White Guys’ Night Out” or some such, and played it mostly for laughs. The story picked up again yesterday, when the National Post featured an op-ed by left-coast writer Terry O’Neill on the subject of Macleans’—and by extension, Mark Steyn’s—upcoming trial before the B.C. Human Rights Tribunal (a discrimination complaint brought “on behalf of Muslim residents in the province of British Columbia” that will be heard on June 2). O’Neill reminds us that when you defend free speech, you’re doing it for everyone. Or, in the words of Noam Chomsky: “If we don’t believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don’t believe in it at all.”

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Livent bosses robbed Show Boat to pay Ragtime

Gordon Eckstein’s version of Livent’s accounting practices reminds me more and more each day of a punchline from the Marx Brothers movie Duck Soup: the Minister of Finance says, “Here is the Treasury Department’s report, sir. I hope you’ll find it clear.” To which Rufus T. Firefly replies, “Why, a four-year-old child could understand this report. Run out and find me a four-year-old child—I can’t make head or tail of it.”

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“Legal problems” may delay Conrad Black’s memoir of his legal problems

There are rumours floating around concerning delays in the publishing date for Conrad Black’s much-ballyhooed trial memoir The Fight of My Life. Until as recently as last week, his Lordship’s publisher, McClelland & Stewart president Douglas Pepper, was saying the doorstopper would be out this October. However, a source close to Black reports that “legal problems” could push it out a year to fall 2009. Black’s busy litigation schedule may have something to do with it.

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Yanks trump Canucks on bloggish hockey coverage

OK, this isn’t exactly earth-shattering news, but if you care at all about hockey in the frozen north, it’s a bit of a head scratcher. Throughout the International Ice Hockey Federation championship final on Sunday, it was the New York Times that offered the only live blog during the game.

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Montrealer Autumn Kelly marries into the royal family tomorrow, and the press’s reaction is as classy as ringette

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What is it about the Anglo-Canadian fascination with aristocracy that puts everyone in a flap at the first sign of pretense? When Conrad Lord Black of Crossharbour was sent down for thievery, Canadian and British papers hadn’t spilled that much ink on a single story since D-Day. And this morning arrives an e-mail from the reliably snarky Andrew Clark, The Guardian’s business correspondent in NYC. He begins in typically deadpan prose: “I am rejoicing at the new link between our two nations which will be forged at tomorrow’s royal wedding. No doubt you will be glued to the BBC World Service.”

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Toronto Star editors asleep at the switch

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Star on the march—the annals of editing: in an otherwise tedious exercise in dull normal reportage (Shania Twain is getting separated blah-dee-blah), an editor at the Toronto Star (or was it a writer looking for a buyout?) inadvertently added a line for the ages. The piece appeared this afternoon on their Web site and will surely be taken down by the time you read this. In the interest of amusement and giggles, though, we’ve saved it so that future generations might know the truth.

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Today’s Livent verdict: Blue pens are very popular

As the Livent saga grinds on, the analogy I drew between Livent accountant Gordon Eckstein and Hollinger turncoat David Radler is being proven in spades—with one significant enhancement. Where Radler based his entire testimony on his recollection of a series of phone calls with the accused (Conrad Black), Eckstein is snaking his way through a positively Amazonian paper trail that leads to and from the desk of Garth Drabinsky. And, natch, it all suggests an accounting fraud that makes the shilly-shallyings of our old pal Jack Boultbee pale in comparison.

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Livent trial revelations: Cooked books rooks schnooks

He’s a lot taller, rather more phlegmatic, and considerably more fragrant (having applied substantial splashes of eau de something), but Livent’s former VP finance Gordon Eckstein had about him more than a whiff of David Radler when he walked into court yesterday to testify against his erstwhile bosses Garth Drabinsky and Myron Gottlieb. The examination—in chief carried out with brisk efficiency by the Crown’s lead prosecutor, Robert Hubbard—directed Eckstein to tell the court that though he was the one who cooked Livent’s books, he did so at the behest of Drabinsky and Gottlieb (both of whom were sitting not 20 feet away).

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Greenspans initiate Radler redux at Livent trial

For those of us who sat through the trial of Conrad Black, yesterday afternoon at the Livent fraud trial was a trip down memory lane. Eddie Greenspan (acting for Garth Drabinsky) took over the cross-examination of former Livent contractor Peter Kofman from his brother Brian (acting for the co-accused, Myron Gottlieb). In what was clearly a warm-up for the main event, the cross-examination of former Livent senior VP finance Gordon Eckstein (playing, for the purposes of this trial, the role of David Radler), Eddie and Brian led Kofman through a series of questions meant to portray Eckstein—in the words of one press gallery wag—“in horns and a tail.”

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Jonathan Black makes his courthouse appearance

Courtroom 111 at Toronto’s Old City Hall at 9 a.m. on a Monday is a scene straight out of Dickens. The room is jammed to the rafters with criminal lawyers, their clients, various levels of legal bureaucracy, overstuffed file folders and other assorted hangers-on (i.e., me). In the midst of this cattle call was the case of Her Majesty vs. Jonathan Black—one of three heirs to what’s left of Lord Black’s fortune. In a short, sharp exchange between the court and young Black’s representative, the case was held over until May 26.

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Day two of Her Majesty the Queen vs. Drabinsky and Gottlieb

What started as a tedious prologue transformed, in a flash, into a testy rough-and-tumble drama. The shift in tone was undeniably due to today’s introduction of Peter Kofman, Livent’s contractor, whose job throughout the ’90s was to renovate and build the theatrical palazzos that housed various Phantoms, Showboats and Sunset Boulevards. In a mood that might best be described as somewhere between abysmal and exasperated, Kofman testified on the Crown’s behalf regarding Livent’s accounting practices—practices that would have put a blush on even Max Bialystock’s face.

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Commission and refute: The National Post celebrates Israel’s 60th by taking on its own writer

My pal Jeet Heer wrote me last week to point out the strange treatment the National Post gave his op-ed on Israel, a piece the editors of the Post commissioned to help mark the 60th anniversary of the Jewish state. Knowing his views, Post editors specifically asked Heer to write a piece that would run contrary to the paper’s oft-stated position that Israel can do no (or very little) wrong. Jeet agreed—“reluctantly”—to write it in his own words. The op-ed came out last Tuesday, with preludes announcing that the “National Post editorial board” would be running an accompanying unsigned editorial “refuting Mr. Heer’s conclusions.”

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SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR’S NOTE

Due to a technical error all comments in the previous thread were accidentally deleted late in the afternoon on Saturday, May 10. Toronto Life regrets the error and apologizes for any inconvenience this may have caused.

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White men cheer for Mark Steyn at Bay and Bloor

You can’t swing a cat in this town without hitting Heather Reisman interviewing some author. Such events usually go down at Indigo Books (where lately it seems she’s the CEO, picks the books, arranges the floor displays, sweeps the floor, changes the light bulbs and sews the employee smocks), and last night, at the Bay and Bloor location, the author in question was the ubiquitous Mark Steyn. He was there to plug his much discussed book America Alone, and held forth in front of a jam-packed audience of mostly white men on his general discomfort with and disdain for the Muslim world and multiculturalism. He espoused what he called a “natalist” policy for Canada—i.e. Canadians should produce more babies, thereby vitiating the need for immigration—and something about “telescoping” our educable years, presumably so as to free up time for more babymaking.

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Signs of the times

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For some years now, on a wall beside the back entrance to Toronto’s Hospital for Sick Children (what used to be the emergency entrance), near the corner of Gerrard and University, steps from the Children’s Healing Garden, have hung three fast food logos: one for Tim Hortons, one for Soup It Up and one for Burger King. These signs serve two purposes. They signal that those three franchises have outlets inside the hospital and act as de facto promotions for the products served therein. Now, I can live with Soup It Up and Tim Hortons. Soup is generally thought to be both nourishing and comforting; Tim Hortons is Tim Hortons, a wellspring of coffee and doughnuts. Double-doubles and sprinkles are bad for you, sure, yet so elementally native that Tim Hortons might as well serve up portions of the Canadian Shield. That leaves Burger King. Let me put this as plainly as I can: much of what Burger King serves is unhealthy. So why do they have a franchise serving food inside a hospital aimed at promoting and propagating health among children? (The fact that Burger King supported the endowment of a chair in critical care at the hospital only raises my eyebrow all the more.)

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New York’s newspaper war shifts its battleground from Manhattan to Myanmar

In keeping a weather eye on the ongoing newspaper war over New York, today’s front pages of the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times are instructive. The Journal, given its earlier deadlines, led with the Myanmar cyclone and, for cover art, used a map to illustrate the extent of the damage. The Times split its headlines between last night’s primaries and the cyclone, giving more coverage to the former and devoting its art to Obama and Clinton. Initially, it bothered me that the Times would give more prime real estate to a parochial political story. Then I got into their coverage and my head turned round.

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Conrad Black’s legal tormentor gets new job, salary bump

The Chicago Tribune notes today that Conrad Black’s tormentor-in-chief, Eric Sussman, has moved on to head up the regulatory enforcement and white-collar litigation practice at Chicago firm Kaye Scholer, a top-tier U.S. litigation shop. Sussman is all atwitter at his new prospects and considerable salary bump:

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Theatre puns running low among journos at Drabinsky-Gottlieb trial

This country’s most famous and fabulous theatre impresario and his long-time partner went on trial for fraud yesterday morning in a large, airy courtroom (under an enormous coat of arms featuring a lion and a unicorn and the words Dieu et mon droit) on the fourth floor at 361 University Avenue—a mere driver and a wedge from the theatres that made Garth Drabinsky famous. The setting was likely a little dull for Garth’s taste. He did look good: tan and fit in a snappy check suit, with that insane shag carpet still growing out the top of his head. There were the usual oyeh, oyeh, oyehs, followed by the introduction of the Crown and its opponents, the Greenspan brothers.

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Cue the madness—Drabinsky and Gottlieb are now on trial

After a mere decade of delays and distractions, former theatre impresario and alleged fraudster Garth Drabinsky will finally see the inside of a Canadian courtroom. He and his Livent Inc. partner Myron Gottlieb are facing criminal charges before Ontario Superior Court Judge Mary Lou Benotto—she of the tainted blood trial. Reporting on CBC Radio this morning, Mike Hornbrook pointed out that it’s considered “Canada’s largest ever prosecution of corporate fraud”—a good thing, too, considering the Americans were ready to prosecute these two as long ago as 1999. Unlike their former board member Conrad Black, Gottlieb and Drabinsky had the good sense to hole up in Canada and wait for the RCMP to conduct its investigation (an indictment took three years). As for the subsequent delay in the case coming to trial, Drabinsky can thank (in part) a certain aforementioned peer of the realm: the Crown was only too happy to accommodate Eddie Greenspan’s crowded calendar as he flew about the continent defending Black.

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Miller vs. Johnson in Spectator’s first blond-off

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It works for Fox News; why can’t it work for us? We report, you decide. Whose hair is more—how to put it?—blindingly blond? The nearly minted mayor of London, Boris Johnson, or Hogtown’s own two-term pasha, David Miller? Either one would put Marilyn Monroe to shame, so we leave it to you. Who among these peroxide twins is likely to have more fun?

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Conrad Black’s spirits downgraded from ‘happy’ to ‘healthy’ despite attending prison seminars on American politics

A smattering of news on the Conrad Black front this morning. Last evening, Patrick Fitzgerald et al. responded to Andrew Frey’s pleading that the Hollinger four’s conviction be set aside in a 127-page brief. June 5 has been set as the date for oral arguments before the 7th Circuit with a final decision expected in the fall.

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The selective sympathies of Christie Blatchford

Christie Blatchford’s selective sympathies and predilection for men in uniform is fodder for much water cooler criticism both in and out of the scribbling trades. But in all my time observing the Globe scribe’s commentary—and particularly in view of my interest in her on-again, off-again empathy/sympathy for Conrad Black—I’ve never seen anything quite as brazen as her recent columns on Robert Baltovich (April 24) and Paul Croutch (May 1).

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