Doug Ford is an S.O.B!

Doug Ford is a landlord of last resort, and Toronto is the tenant he’s been trying to evict for eight years.

Let’s get the anatomy right first. This isn’t governance; it’s demolition dressed up as efficiency. Every ribbon-cutting is a cover story. Ontario Place, the Greenbelt flirtation, Billy Bishop’s runway dreams, and now Bloor Street’s bike lanes ground up under a court order — same appetite, different plate. The man doesn’t build constituencies; he liquidates them, one asset at a time, and calls the fire sale a vision.

The bike lane ruling lands as more than a traffic story. It’s a referendum on who the street belongs to, and this summer answered that question before the judge did. I’m out there daily — photographing, biking, errands — and what I’m seeing at every grocery lot is a quiet uprising: seniors strapping panniers to handlebars, retirees who priced themselves out of a fill-up and found two wheels cheaper than dignity. Toronto Island’s gone full velodrome. The bike isn’t a lifestyle statement anymore; it’s a hedge against a war economy nobody voted for at the pump. And into those currents wades a premier who’s never once felt a seat under him that wasn’t upholstered in a Cadillac Escalade, ripping out the one piece of infrastructure that let ordinary people opt out of his cost-of-living war.

Call it what it is: Ford runs Queen’s Park like a numbered company skimming off a public trust, Project 2025’s backroom instincts imported north and laundered through a Tim Hortons accent. Civil Canada was supposed to be the firewall. Turns out the firewall’s made of the same cardboard as everything else, he’s been asked to protect.

The street was never his to give away. It was only ever his to steal.