Oh, Canada

Erik Wyse

Canada, that’s where the cold air comes from. Canada, who stole our mall culture. Canada, solely responsible for maple-syrup-induced car accidents. Canada, a nation where half its economy is based on clubbing seals. I once thought of moving to Canada, and then I woke up.
Canada is good for only three things: ice, beavers, and Celine Deion. Everything else is a wash. I like to think of Canada as a white-carpeted room. Sure it looks nice but when you come down to it, it’s boring and impractical. Canada’s got as much backbone as a Texas rattler: none.
Lets take a look at Canada’s economy: it’s a joke. The money has images of people playing hockey on it. Actually, that’s true and not a joke. Alexander Hamilton may not be the best-looking guy – or even the most interesting – but at least you don’t see Babe Ruth eating a hot dog on the U.S. dollar bill. Although, come to think of it, this may be a good way to spark interest in baseball and hot dogs,two things which aren’t getting their due these days.
Don’t even get me started with those French Canadians, the dysfunctional and sometimes violent cousin that lives in a cupboard under the stairs. Every time someone mentions the partition of Quebec, the French Revolution becomes a little less cool. What’s that you say? You don’t understand how cool the French Revolution is? Let me just say three words: guillotine, Bastille and spies named Jacques. Now you can understand my disappointment in their failure to living up to tradition laid out by the Three Musketeers.
While researching this article I wrote a letter to Alex Trebek, the most powerful man to call Canada his home. In this letter I tried to get Mr. Trebek to explain to me the roots of Canada’s jealousy of America comes from. Trebek did not comment, most likely because he had no defense. What does that say, Canada, when your white knight does not rise to the challenge to defend your nation?
Also, what is with Canada’s obsession with bowling? In America people go bowling as a last-resort date idea. It’s a novelty here: Hey, let’s go bowling and then when I take you home that will be the last time I ever see you. Bowling’s appeal is questionable at best. When was the last time you saw an uplifting sports movie based on a real story about a bowling team of minorities? There aren’t even movies about fake bowling teams involving adopted children or golden retrievers.
Canadians are historically very funny, you might point out. Well, I do have to give Canada credit on this one, what with Second City alumni John Candy and Dan Akroyd, as well as the Kids in the Hall comedy troupe. These guys are pretty funny but most humor comes out of insecurity. To prove this scientific assertion I will very scientifically cite one example: Woody Allen, the poster child for neuroticism.
Canada produces such a high number of comedians because they are an insecure country. Lumberjacks clearly hide the depths of their emotions behind their layers of flannel. They spend all day chopping trees together in the woods because they don’t know how to talk to women. Then they make really emo albums with Victorian album titles like “For Emma, Forever Ago.”
To help us try to understand the Canadian creature it might be helpful to look at a typical day in the life of a Canadian. You wake up at 5 a.m. because there are no reasons to stay up past 9 p.m. Immediately upon waking up you take a cold shower because hot water isn’t humbling. After toweling off, you use approximately 50 cotton swabs and three different face and body creams because you enjoy cleanliness to the point of saturation. Then, you down a cup of Folgers coffee along with ten flapjacks lathered in maple syrup that you tap each morning from the tree outside your kitchen sink window. Okay that sounds both tasty and seductive – think of all the things you can do with fresh syrup.
For the next eight hours you either work as a Denny’s waitress or park ranger, because these are the only two jobs in your whole country. You get home and watch curling while eating French fries and gravy until you pass out. This cycle repeats itself for years and years until one day you get to enjoy as much government-subsidized prescription medicine as you want. It is just all too sickening.
At this point I hope you realize what Canada stands for. As we speak, Canada is finding new ways to assimilate the worst parts of our culture and lose Olympics events in which they were predicted favorites. I almost feel sorry for Canada but then I realize how counterproductive this is because Canadians don’t even experience emotion themselves; it’s hard to feel bad for people who can’t feel bad.

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