Nobody ever claimed you had to be a Mensa-level genius to run for public office. And, let's face it, lots of candidates get elected who are not going to challenge for a Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford.

Still, you have to wonder where their heads go sometimes. The squabbling and nattering in legislations and parliament tend to not impress local voters. And every so often, they respond at the ballot box by kicking out a bunch of them.

The voters are usually quite right.

There are, however, some actions by a politician that makes even the most jaded shut their eyes, reach for a cold compress, and contemplate the bottle of amber liquid sitting peacefully on the corner of the bar.

Exhibit A: The Governor of South Dakota, Kristi Noem.

In what universe would she think that going on US TV shows to proclaim that she shot a puppy would be well-received?

The dog, she claimed, couldn't be trained so she took the dog to a gravel pit and—eventually—killed it.

There was speculation that she was trying to impress Donald Trump to gain the Vice-President slot in the upcoming presidential election. It does not appear to have worked—even Trump doesn't want to be associated with a puppy-slayer. She is, pardon the expression, in his doghouse.

Then there was her claim to have met the reclusive President of North Korea. The claim was made in a recent biography, which is something American politicians (and some Canadian ones) who have national ambitions do with alarming frequency. The books are ghost-written, of course, but apparently the featured player rarely even reads the final copy. Then they spend the next few weeks denying things in the book (or even removing them, as Noem's North Korean story apparently has been).

It seems an odd way to impress national voters.

In Canada, some of our politicians do equally amazing things.

Exhibit B: The Prime Minister of Canada, the Leader of the Official Opposition, and the Leader of the 3^rd party. In other words, the three top national political leaders in our glorious nation.

Collectively, they have achieved something that no similar trio of politicians has accomplished in the past fifty years: they all have popularity ratings of -12 or lower.

In simple math, if 40 people surveyed in the Angus Reid poll like you, and 60 don't, then you have a net favorability rating of -20. It means a bunch of people don't like you and/or the job you're doing.

When one considers the scrappiness and unparliamentary language that has permeated Parliament Hill lately, and the general tone of political discourse, it is no wonder that Canadians frown with disapproval on politicians. A pox on all their houses, to poach an old phrase.

Fortunately, of course, mayors and councillors are all paragons of virtue.

Wait. What?