Freund
Let's say you have a friend. You've had your ups and downs, but you've known each other for years and years, and you've mostly been there for one another through thick and thin. And then one day, out of the blue, this friend makes a joke. He says he's going to steal your wife, but you'll get to be the best man at the wedding. It's weird and you don't see the humour, but you're having dinner and you've had a few drinks and you let it go. He's your pal, after all. But then he posts that same joke on social media. And then he repeats it to other people. Over and over. He starts introducing you as his future wife's ex. "Everyone? This is Pat, my future wife's ex!".
At what point exactly do you start thinking wait a minute... is this guy threatening me? At what point do you ask him what his fucking problem is?
No one's laughing in Canada. This now apparently requisite 51st state addendum after every mention of our country's name, or referring to our Prime Minister as "governor": it ain't funny. At all.
When the New York Times entertains the idea, musing on the positive impacts of our annexion for the Democratic party (this via Pxlnv); and when your Minister of Foreign Affairs needs to tell US senators to cut it out, that it's disrespectful to our country and our people... Houston? Wtf?
We see it in the eyes of journalists and news anchors, and we hear it on the radio—in that slight uneasy stir that hides a stressed intake of air. We're all affected. Every time I hear those words my heart starts racing and my stomach cramps up. I have to stop, breathe, and calm myself. It's not fear, you see...it's rage. Boiling, underneath the skin. Rage borne of betrayal and fuelled by a type of resentment I've never felt before.
My grandmother's grandfather was Francois-Xavier Garneau. He wrote the 3-volume Histoire du Canada, a foundational document of French-Canadian literature. De Saint-Denys Garneau was my great-uncle, Anne Hébert my "petite cousine". There's a picture of her holding me, stashed in a box somewhere. Two of my ancestors are noted heroes of the Battle of Chateauguay, where British and Canadian forces repelled Americans who were "attempting to invade Lower Canada and ultimately attack Montreal" during the War of 1812. One of them was the commanding officer.
Sorry if all of that sounds pompous as hell. Here's the point: we are NOT Americans in waiting. We have NEVER been Americans in waiting.
Not yesterday.
Not today.
And not tomorrow.
