Friday 22 February 2013

Gettin' Real Sick of Canadians

      Ever since I learned in high school history that nationalism was one of the primary triggers of World War I, I've been suspicious of being overproud of where I was from. Canada has a pretty good worldwide reputation, but what did we (especially younger people) do to deserve that? And moreover, what does saying "I'm Canadian" have to do with anything? You live between this line and this line, that's all it really means. All of the worst people I know are Canadian. Does that make it a bad place? No, it just means I live here.


Nationalism in a nutshell.


      You don't get to claim the traditions of the area you're from if you did not contribute to whatever it is you're talking about. War veterans can be proud of our freedoms. You (unless you are one) can't; you didn't risk your life for it. You can be happy about it, but you cannot logically or reasonably claim it and it is the word "proud" that really rots my ass in this whole mess. This pride is indicative of privilege, stereotype, and mental weakness.

      Up until the last few years, I've been the first one in a room to yell how proud I was to be Canadian. But I realized that that didn't have any bearing on me, my values, or even the people I learn from. I went through the entire list of my favourite authors and musicians, and of them one was a Canadian band and one was Scottish author with Canadian citizenship; everyone else was English or American.* So much for carrying the torch. The one local (from Windsor) author I've read wrote an embarassingly bad book that made two separate anachronistic errors in one sentence on the first page.**
      Instead of being proud of where you're from, we ought to just say we're happy about it, because you didn't do anything to earn it. You were born, congratulations, here's your trophy. If you vote, and the MP/MPP/Party/Prime Minister you voted for does something that makes the province or country a better place, then you can logically have a microscopic modicum of pride in your country, because technically, you did something. Inasmuch as a government represents its people (debatable), I am very, very un-proud of Harper-era Canada.

      Often Canadian pride has much to do with not being American; here in Windsor especially, where we can look out our windows and see Detroit. You know what? I am happy to not be American. I'm also happy to not be Ugandan. That's not how I define myself. A negative definition is no definition.

Negative Defintions: Useless.


     Sometimes this is a statement full of gratitude, usually when observing or learning of some tragedy, about how good life is within these state borders. Saying you're grateful to live where you are is pandering, whether intentional or not, to happenstance, or if you'd prefer, your god of choice. Again, it's different to say you're happy about it, but grateful? To whom? Did your parents make the tough decision between continuing to live where they did or moving to North Korea? Did they intend for you to have the (comparatively) privileged life that you do?  No, they raised you as per the dictates of the society that you were both born in, which is why you even know those concepts.

      What's more, saying you're grateful you were born here suggests there's someone or something to be grateful to which means that someone or something actively causes famine, flood, drought and disease elsewhere. That's SICK.

      In essence, you have the causality mixed up. You don't live where you do because you are lucky, you feel lucky because you live where you do.

      Canadian stereotypes are sometimes funny, sometimes annoying, but always cliché:

      I don't like maple syrup. I don't like anything maple flavoured. Bite my ass.

      I don't wear flannels because we've figured out how to make every garment made out of a certain material an ugly one. Great show, Canada.

      I do drink Tim Horton's coffee sometimes (not at all exclusively), because I feel it has a good, harsh bite to the taste of it, it's cheap, and their machines get hotter than my own.

      I do enjoy  hockey, but it's not a religion, because religions are stupid. With the season being locked out this year, I've realized how easily I can live without it.

      I've never met a lumberjack.

      We're not that nice. I meet more pricks than nice people, and I work with the public. All the biggest assholes I know were born and raised in Canada.

      I do say "aboot." I'm taking the piss out of morons who think we actually say that.

      Curling is stupid. It's not even a game like golf is a game, it's just doing housework unproductively.

      Our free health care is good, but not great, and it will go down more because people don't understand the mechanics that a system of that magnitude requires and don't want to support it.

      Similarly, our education is being Nerfed because of intellectual concessions we are making for the sake of political correctness that no one you'll ever talk to actually agrees with.

Bowl of snotty fries, anyone?

     Poutine is disgusting.

      Classified is an awful rapper. He's boring and his songs suck, especially his pandering, heart-strings piece of garbage about this country. Drake sucks, too.


      I don't hate Justin Beiber. I don't like him, but I don't hate him either. He's just there. I don't know how to define Canadian, but he's obviously not it.

      And past any of those statements, you can't say anything about me. Am I a bad Canadian?


      Let's be clear: I am not ashamed of the country to which I claim citizenship, I just think it's an arbitrary distinction.

      American patriotism is an oft-lampooned topic, but I think it might actually make more sense than our own. You'll hear a lot of "America is the greatest country in the world" garble, but is that so wrong? Countries and their attributes are extremely hard to define, about as hard as it is to have a conversation with 315 million people, in this case. So why not just pull a line out of your cornhole and hammer it home at every opportunity you get? Nobody is reasoning anything anyway!

      It's especially weird to hear Anti-American definition in Windsor, Ontario. A large part of our economy and culture is overflow from Detroit, Michigan yet these same people are virulently anti-American in their self-definition. Those same people are hockey fanatics; (fair enough) and some of them are Detroit Red Wings fans. If you were to ask them why they are Wings fans, instead of Toronto Maple Leafs fans, you'll get one of three answers:

                          1.Detroit is closer.

                          2.There are just as many Canadian players on the American team anyway.
                     
                          3.They had such and such childhood experience that engendered a love of the Wings in them (Dad was a Wings fan, loved Steve Yzerman, first hockey game was at the Joe, etc.).

      So at some levels, some of the people who would fight you if you were to call them American have already done away with border lines. I am not saying there is something wrong with patriotism, I'm saying there is a lot wrong with unfounded patriotism, and the aspersions that it can cast.

      We are in fact being dragged down by this kind of thinking, because it allows for mental sloth; "We're better than them, so we don't need to work at it." This has taken serious hold in the United States where the ratio of doctors and professors who are actually American compared to those who are foreign born is beginning to get pretty sad for a country so well equipped to lead the world.

      We need to be more realistic about our shortcomings, and then work at them, and stop letting politicians get away with wasting our time and money. Enlightenment knows no geographical borders. If we develop a national culture of work ethic and realism instead of inflated ego and flag waving, then the things we do under that maple leaf will be worth something.

      Please leave a comment with your thoughts.
     

*Protest the Hero; Jack Whyte.

**Stephen Gaspar, in To Know Evil referred to the "Roman Emperor" during Hannibal's invasion through the Alps in the second century B.C. When Hannibal crossed the Alps, during the third century B.C, Rome was a republic; there was no emperor. This man is a teacher.

Thursday 14 February 2013

Retail Tales: Why the World is Falling Apart #3

     Valentine's Day.

      Do any other words send such a shudder down the spines of men?

      Well, tampon, vasectomy and Twilight might do it.

      Though it is probably rightly called a "greeting-card holiday," and the tradition of Valentine's is a pretty big load of hooey, it's actually not a twentieth century invention. The romantic connotations aren't as old as the saint for which they're named, but they do date back to Chaucer, which means they're over 600 years old. But it still doesn't make any sense. Aren't you supposed to love someone all the time? Didn't I buy you dinner last week? Am I not paying the electricity bill? You better love having lights in here!

Ever see the "Trash of the Titans" episode of The Simpsons that leads off with the new holiday "Love Day," made up to boost lagging sales in mid-spring? It makes a great point about popular opinion of Valentine's: we're still paying for Christmas you greedy pricks, piss off!

      My stance is that I love my partner every day of the year, and I believe I express it often, and as such, Valentine's is sort of pointless. But, she is the sort of uber-thoughtful creature who is always looking for an excuse to do nice things for people, and I like, in turn, to do nice things for her. My mom always gets me some chocolate, because she's the sweetest and I like chocolate, and that's great. I also think that any celebration is usually a good excuse to celebrate, because enjoying life is healthy, but that's not what's happening here.

      What throws me off is that I've noticed many, many girls and women saying they, too, think Valentine's is a cow-patty burger masquerading as a steak. Then they get angry when, after telling their man that it's silly and not to worry about it, they don't get anything.
     
      Wha...?

      Probably the single best explanation I've received for this puzzling phenomenon came from a former employee who was a few flowers short of a bouquet, and therefore a surprising source of wisdom. She told me that yes, most girls do feel it's a made-up, hogwash day, and that it's corny, and that they don't particularly care about flowers or cards (chocolate is different), BUT it hurts them to see other girls getting stuff, and being cared for, when they don't.

      The girls who don't care about celebrating this day get jealous when they see other girls who don't care about celebrating this day, celebrating this day.

      Well, whatever. It sort of makes sense. It's dumb and petty and lends zero credence to arguments against the stereotype that females are catty and jealous, but at least it's some kind of explanation.

     (No one seems to have thought of the obvious fact that all holidays are made up. Can't quite piece that one together yet.)

      So how, this time, is the retail world a barometer of such a seemingly hypocritical, fickle interpersonal mess?

It's not.
 
      I just wanted to point it out, because it chaps my ass.
 
No, you don't.
      The trend I noticed today at work was a bit different, and, I must admit, one I've never picked up on before. I could only scratch my head at how many times I was asked:

      "You're a guy, do you think my boyfriend will like this balloon, or this one?"
 
      I...uhm. What?
 
      Then I acted like I slipped and split my head open on the floor so I didn't have to answer. I'm begging you, please stop asking me these kinds of questions, I don't like lying.
 
      This retail tale is about how the mind of many a young woman has obviously been twisted. Why in the world are you asking me this? Why in the world are you in here blowing upwards of 20-60 doll hairs on balloons? Who told you this is an acceptable, let alone good, gift? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
 
      A lot of comics remark on how simple men are, and as a very unsimple man I can only disagree, but you could do so many better things with your efforts. Spend that money on a steak, a package of bacon, a new hat, a pair of socks, a case of beer, a knife, a tomahawk ,a really big knife, a puppy, something relevant to him loving you or you loving him (in your chosen format), a pencil sharpener, a fart machine, a book, a bag of french fries, a season of My Little Pony on DVD, or his favourite liquor.
 
     Or don't spend money! Rub his back, laugh at his awful impressions, pretend like you care about Epic Meal Time or Call of Dudes.
 
      But no.     

      Balloons...honestly.
 
      Do you know this person at all?
 
      Now, I try not to generalize, as it is entirely possible any given man may be thrilled about getting some floating rubber sacs of slightly differing colours. Still, I'm going to play the stereotype card (as a friend always reminds me, "It's quicker!") and say that these efforts are horribly, horribly misguided. Why, in the bloody buggering balls of Christ, would you think this is a good idea?
 
      Today, the retail world confirmed one of my long held suspicions. All those sitcoms where men buy their partners gifts that they would like themselves were actually a way for women to shift blame for a practice they are in fact culpable of!
 
 
      It is you, balloon-buying girlfriend or wife, who is the thoughtless one! It is you who doesn't understand your partner, it is you who does not listen! Take THAT, The View! Take THAT, comedy repertoire of syndicated television and second rate stand-up comics!
 
      I entreat you again: please stop spending money on this garbage. Get creative; you'll both be much happier. Or, be really crazy; actually think about your partner and what they like, instead of what you've been programmed to think they want.
 
      And Crappy Vilentine's, you goofy mouth-breathers.
 
      God, I hate Epic Meal Time.

Wednesday 6 February 2013

For Your Consideration

      For Your Consideration is a new segment wherein I provide just a tiny bit of information to pique your interest, and you can do the work researching/thinking about/lamenting/lauding said circumstance. By all means, leave a comment to tell me what you think.

      This one is for my religious fans, all none of you.



ISSUE

      Unlike other businesses that claim to help people, religions don't pay taxes. Personal trainers, psychiatrists, motivational speakers, nutritionists, doctors, therapists, and lots of other kinds of people who can demonstrably help people pay taxes, but religions don't pay taxes.

      For reference, please consider the Ontario Ministry of Finance and Canada Revenue Agency.


CONTRA
From the King James Bible, Gosepl of Matthew, Ch.22

      16 And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest not the person of men.17 Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not? 18 But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites?19 Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a penny.20 And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?21 They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.22 When they had heard these words, they marvelled, and left him, and went their way.

Jesus wants you to pay your taxes.

I'm talking to you, Kent Hovind (Young Earth Creation Science Evangelist currently incarcerated for multiple crimes including tax evasion).
Apparently you have no idea what the Bible says.