“There is no core identity, no mainstream in Canada. Those qualities are what make us the first post-nation state.”
So says Justin Trudeau, freshly-minted Prime Minister of Canada. What are Canadians to make of this curious proclamation?
END GAME: JUSTIN TRUDEAU AND THE CULTURAL TRANSFORMATION OF CANADA
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Not sure how he decides whether we have a mainstream or not. Not that much diversity during the two World Wars, and the country was built mostly by Christian Europeans. We realize that both Trudeaus and their Liberal pals have been trying to destroy that culture starting with PET’s Multicultural abomination. Sharia, Hindu, Sikh, African, Chinese, Japanese, etc. political and legal cultures don’t contribute to a free and open society with the rule of law as the guiding principal. That we have so many from different countries who have adapted and brought some of their culture is wonderful. Leaving the nastiness of their upbringing to adapt to Canada has allowed us to maintain our Canadian culture intact, until recently. With the current western self-loathing manifested by the Liberals and to some extent the NDP, and the real joy our PM shows when talking about Fidel, the Communist Chinese, his father’s fascination with the Russians, and his brothers’ love of Fidel and Ghadaffi, it becomes easy to understand where this is coming from. Anybody but Canadian culture. He can go to hell.
Justin had all the advantages of being born into all the wealth and political connections his family money could buy yet he became a useless loser whose long list of accomplishments totaled being a part time drama teacher and a summer camp counselour. Speaking from experience having attended and having been a camp counselour at three summer camps, all camp counselours were high school students who had yet to graduate but at least were good at instructing children at marshmallow roasting and making gimp bracelets, a requirement of all G 8 leaders. No one but Justin would even bother putting that on their resume. All that Justin really needed to be a success in life was to have the same last name as one of Canada’s worst PMs and have nice hair which is a guarantee of buying the vote of hundreds of thousands of brain dead Canadians who thought Pierre was a genius because he wore a cravat and a zoot suit, loved tyrants and mass murderers like Fidel Castro, looked cool and hip with his bi-polar slut wife who was young enough to be his daughter and who entertained herself by banging all the rock bands she could get her hands on while Pierre was busy saving the world from Americanism which he hated because it taught third world countries how to over throw Pierre’s tyrant friends and establish free markets (let me catch my breath, I’m looking for a place to put a period) and was excellent at destroying a healthy economy. (Thank God I found one)
One day after pissing years away smoking dope by the pool living off of his unearned inheritance while everyone else was going to work it suddenly struck Justin that he could live on Sussex Drive and get driven around in limousines, fly around in government jumbo jets visiting the four corners of the world while sipping fine wines all on the taxpayer’s dime not to mention dining and passing out pearls of wisdom to the queen, celebrities and corporate leaders and if he can find some spare time, to enlighten his fellow Canadians by teaching them all to be warm and fuzzy just like him. Had Justin’s last name been Smith or Trembley he wouldn’t have been elected dog catcher in Chapped Lips Saskatchewan let alone get voted in as a federal MP in a Quebec riding overpopulated with illiterates who should have known better, but Justin figured … “hey, I’m a Trudeau and I want to be worshiped just like my daddy was” and the son of a bitch, much to his own surprise, actually pulled it off. Justin reminds me of all the losers I remember from my university days in Toronto in the 60s who had just finished high school, spent a summer as a camp counselour never having a political thought in their entire lives beyond unsuccessfully trying to get laid and has just finished their first semester of university majoring in women’s studies and has now concluded that they’re qualified to change the world by leading their fellow freaks in a flavour of the month ideological revolution armed to the teeth with inane slogans and buzz words. Canadians, following the example of the Roman citizens at the time the barbarians were at the gate, elected Justin. Now were’re stuck with nightly Justinian pontifications courtesy of The Peoples Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. I knew it would get worse but never in my wildest pessimistic moments did I expect his bimbo wife to shatter our ears with her bizarre Ode to My Kiddies song to commemorate Martin Luther King, a Canadian hero I was unaware of.