Canada’s 150th From A to Zed

June 29, 2017

Much of what Canada does is out of spite toward America (despite a good 80 percent of Canada’s economy being contingent on American business). The U.S. touts itself as the home of free speech, so we created the Canadian Human Rights Commission, which proudly announces, “Free speech is an American concept.” Part of Canada’s culture is now not being able to say what you want. This includes hate facts. That’s right, even if the statement you made is true, you could be fined for being offensive, especially if Muslims are involved.

Americans may scoff at this, and it’s true their Supreme Court is very fair when presented with free-speech cases, but these cases rarely get that far. The American left has joined the Canadian government in spirit and decided that certain people must be fired if they stray from the PC narrative. The big picture is, if the people don’t stand by the laws, they’re not worth the paper they’re written on, and in both countries, free speech is at the back of the lineup, eh?

I love Canada and think it has a bright future, but there is a giant stain on it named Justin Trudeau. I blame women for this, but right now the second-largest country in the world is run by an extra from Zoolander. He wears Muslim socks to Gay Pride parades. He says we need to get into “Investigative national security stuff” and prays for a future where “We’re resilient enough to handle bad things happening without falling into a bad space.” These are just from the past couple of weeks. There are entire websites devoted to recording his idiotic expressions. I think my favorite is “We have to rethink elements as basic as space and time—to go all science fiction-y on you in this sense,” eh?

You can tell a lot about a culture by its airports. In Glasgow, it’s perfectly reasonable to take your drink right up to the gate and even have it in your hand as you board the plane. Denying it would be like taking insulin from a diabetic. American airport bars tend to stay empty until the afternoon, but every bar in every Canadian airport is packed from opening time until closing. This too comes from our Scottish roots (that’s also why we’re funny).

When I was at Fox News, only a select group of employees would go for a drink after work. Kennedy, Greg Gutfeld, a few libertarian staffers, and the odd Hannity producer were the only ones you’d catch having a drink, but at Sun News (now Rebel Media) up in Canada, the local bar was an extension of the office. If you snuck out for a wee nippy sweetie at noon you’d bump into two cameramen and a researcher slamming back a cold Molson Dry during break. After work, everyone in front of and behind the camera would be at the bar. We had the whole back section to ourselves. What they call being sociable in Canada is called alcoholism in the States, eh?

Canucks have a reputation for being cold, but that’s because we’re fuggin’ freezin’. Once we get our parkas off and sit down at the bar, we’re anyone’s dog for a bone. You don’t get that in many places outside of the U.K. I find American conversation is harder to get going and when it does, it’s sluggish. It often leads to the other person wanting something from you like info on a vacation you just took or whether they should buy that bike lock on Amazon. They don’t see chatting as an amusing pastime and again, I think this comes back to booze. Canadians aren’t shy. They’re polite. They’re not timid. They just want to make sure we’ve explored all other options before we get into a kerfuffle. It’s a great country that’s agile and curious with a populace that talks with a blue-collar accent but has traveled the world. There is only one thing wrong with Canada and that’s the government.

Trudeau will be gone in 2020 and that’s when the Great White North can get back to being great again. Until then, we’re going to focus on getting hammered. So, whether you’re on pogey with barely two toonies to rub together and you’re fuggin’ the dog all day in your housecoat and track pants, or your bum’s parked on a fancy chesterfield with a monogrammed serviette in your hand, it’s time to celebrate 37/150 years of hoser culture. No matter what postal code you’re in, from toques to top hats, grab a mickey or a two-four and just fuggin’ give ’er, eh?

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