There’s probably no reason for this (apparently) looming prorogation. Not a concrete one, anyway. Nothing like a pressing risk that the prime minister might lose his job. Or the Olympics.

Those prorogations past, at least, had dubious and contentious reasons behind them — still reasons, nonetheless. They put people in the streets, set in motion hundreds of conversations (mostly about what the word ‘prorogation’ actually means), and at least one 200,000-strong online group against all prorogations, reasonable or not.

A memory comes to mind: a hungover, Carrera sunglass-wearing, designer-pea-coated friend of mine wondering aloud, flatly, nasally, as we stood surveying a gathering of anti-prorogation protesters in Vancouver’s Victory Square in the crisp morning of a January Saturday in 2010: “When does the looting begin?”

Yes. Those were the prorogations that felt like they might amount to something — even casual street criminality.

This prorogation — the one Prime Minister Harper told reporters Monday likely would see Parliament return sometime in October — feels a little less interesting. Still, the call for outrage has gone out again.

The main argument against prorogation so far has been that the prime minister is using it to avoid getting an earful from the Opposition in the House of Commons on the Senate expenses scandal. And that’s likely true — at least partly. The spring session was hardly an enjoyable one for the Conservatives, who sat glumly through one QP after another as the scandal details proliferated on iPads and in the pages of Quorum. Each headline was a reminder that they were the party that wanted so badly to reform the Senate — or abolish the damn thing altogether. That’s not to mention all that accountability Conservatives liked to talk about so much. And it’s that accountability the New Democrats and Liberals think the prime minister has chosen to “evade” (NDP) or is “avoiding” (Liberals) with the planned prorogation.

The Conservatives are perhaps to blame for many things — but the prorogation mechanism is an innocent bystander here. Turning it into a dirty word helps nobody and is short-sighted at the very least.

Accountability … whatever that means. Interpret it simplistically and perhaps you’d have to conclude that the prime minister has been, in this instance, entirely accountable. It was only last year he told radio host Dave Rutherford in Calgary that at the mid-point of his mandate he would have a significant cabinet shuffle and, he suggested, perhaps a prorogation. He said it, he did it. Accountability?

Ah, forget it. You’d never buy that one. At least the Twitterati won’t, and didn’t Monday afternoon. Around the time the online lathering peaked, just after 5 pm ET, NDP deputy leader Libby Davies and Liberal Ralph Goodale took to CBC to press their point home. It’s not just the prorogation, Goodale said, it’s the context — the fact that the Conservatives are mired in controversy (not that a majority government would want to hit the reset button about a week or so before its party convention, as a way to rouse the troops).

In response to the two opposition members, Conservative Blake Richards sat, looking like a man made of waxy cardboard — but probably just stiff and sweaty — and told everyone this was all a “very normal practice.”

There isn’t anything surprising or wrong with politicians being political, but it seems a tad worrisome that the politicking would take aim just as much at a well-worn, often-used oddity of the parliamentary procedural manual as it does the party using it. The Conservatives are perhaps to blame for many things — but the prorogation mechanism is an innocent bystander here. Turning it into a dirty word helps nobody and is short-sighted at the very least. Should there be an NDP or Liberal government one day soon, they too might feel the need to prorogue.

Goodale was mostly correct. The context does matter, but it’s hard to see how that context won’t be interpreted by anyone with an axe to grind as anything but a complete scandal from now on. So Richards was right too, even in a manner he probably didn’t intend: All of this outrage over prorogation is normal now, and may be for a while. And it’s not hard to see how that’s unfortunate, in many ways.

Anyway, welcome, ‘prorogue’, to the list of perfectly reasonable words politicians can never say in Canada. Sorry it’s so crowded.

And what will Canadians do this time, faced with the return of this word they’ve been taught to hate? Will they take to the streets, or let it all pass over like they did for most of the preceding 140-odd years of governments putting the works on hold to, ostensibly, spend more time in their ridings? Nobody knows at this point — but perhaps we’d better keep an eye on the Canadians Against Proroguing Parliament Facebook page, should it ever return.

If it does, we will wait to see what difference it might make, just like we did last time. And wait for the looting to begin, so to speak.

Colin Horgan is a writer for CTV’s Kevin Newman Live, launching in October (catch it at 9pm ET on CTV News Channel), and was formerly a full-time Hill reporter with iPolitics.ca. He is a frequent contributor to the Guardian and Maclean’s.

The views, opinions and positions expressed by all iPolitics columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of iPolitics.