Growing up in Canada, one
learns that an obligation of citizenship is to humor the nation’s delusions of
grandeur.
In schools, to the extent
history is still taught, Canada’s role in world events is revised to outsized
proportions. Self-flattering terms like “moral superpower” are coined to imply
that from the Cuban Missile Crisis to the supposed existential threat of
“Climate Change,” it is Canada pulling the strings, like some benign and
unfailingly polite Kaiser Soze.
One is enjoined to play along
as Canada insists it is the best in the world at this or that – oftentimes in
qualitative, subjective fields such as the arts. Even here, anyone with eyes to
see or ears to hear or good taste to consult recognizes this is not the case.
But the Canadian thing to do is nod, smile, and not object.
It is perhaps fitting that a
vapid scion like Justin Trudeau should be the leader of such a nation. A
country of little consequence is led by a young man who has never faced
consequences.
Since he first thrust his way
onto the national stage almost two decades ago at his father’s funeral, I have
found Justin embarrassing. I resisted opining on him for as many years as
possible, even as I knew he would one day be Prime Minister, as I imagined the
topic would demean me and my listeners.
Even so, Justin proved handy
for profiling purposes. To wit, if I encountered someone who did not blush at
his nonsense, while I would still endeavour to love them as a fellow child of
God, I’d recognize that we were simply not on the same page in life.
One cannot improve upon Ben
Shapiro’s economical take: “Justin Trudeau is what would happen if the song 'Imagine'
took human form and then ate a Tide Pod.”
There is nothing so trendy and
insipid that you will not hear it escape Justin’s lips, pronounced as though he
had alighted upon some ancient and arcane wisdom.
Again, he would seem the ideal
leader for a nation constantly slathering itself with self-important fantasy
like so much maple syrup.
But here we find the nostrums
of complacent leftism colliding with such force that I cannot, though my
passport may depend on it, pretend to take Canada seriously again.
After a single, inevitable
term as Prime Minister, Justin has been returned to power, albeit with a
minority government (that is, winning a plurality, but not a majority, of seats
in the House of Commons).
Canadian voters have ratified
Justin’s rule and his absurd behaviour. In this age of climate hysteria, female
supremacy, and cultural hypersensitivity, Canada has re-elected a man who
requires not one but two campaign planes, has groped, bullied and sidelined
female press and colleagues, and who has, on at least three documented
occasions, performed in blackface while deep into adulthood.
In short, politically correct
Canada has given the ultimate privileged white male a pass on conduct that
would likely cost you, gentle reader, your livelihood.
It is not as though voters can
point to a record of economic or policy success to justify this result. After
promising to eliminate the budget deficit by this year, Justin has ensured that
overspending will continue for the foreseeable future. He and his fellow-travelers
have not been friends to industry and there seems no end to the number of
Canadian jobs they are prepared to sacrifice to the gods of their weather
religion.
Again, Justin requires two
planes while you cannot have a plastic straw.
All this being said, I love
Canada, as a place to live. I hold three citizenships, enabling me to reside in
about thirty countries, but I chose to return home and purchase the house in
which I grew up.
But let it not be
misunderstood – the splendidness of Canada is not due to Justin’s good offices,
or the shrill politics of the frowny-faced moon maidens who support him.
Rather, the nation lives on the capital of a society established before any of
us got here.
From coast to coast to coast,
the country is like one vast, holiday camp from reality. Canada is much like
the Shire – if it were criminal to misgender a hobbit.
The whole proposition is a
race against time. Will this generation pass before Canada is hollowed out by rapacious
non-entities like Justin and his ilk, or will the cloud of their smugness and
silly-bears consume us all?
Either way, perhaps it is best
for Canada not to be taken seriously rather than just enjoyed. As Alan Watts
opined, “Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the Gods made for
fun.”
