Basically homogeneous, at least near the 49th Parallel, Canadians are a blunt and unaccommodating people.  Through their mask of false politeness they spit at you, resent your strong US identity, resent your strong US dollar.  They’re afflicted, like all ego-bearing creatures, with the unshakable conviction that they’re superior to their neighbors.  They’re genuinely puzzled by foreign ideas.  Why can’t we just settle into their cold stasis and await death with them?  They thoroughly mistrust us.  We’re some breed of pervert contrarian just trying to rile them by pretending to enjoy freedom and violence.  We’re the prodigal son and they’re desperate to believe that our comeuppance is coming, that they’ll be rewarded in heaven for their dogged mediocrity.  Perhaps they will, our frigid Flanders freres, but they’ll never see us regret our excess.  They’ll die having been loved;  we’ll die having lived.



Poutine isn’t that good.


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