I like you. I really do. I can't easily prove this, of course, so I hope you'll take me at my word when I say that I actually, honestly, sincerely like you and your country. In my mind, I see America and Canada as brothers, so when I say what I say, please know it's out of love and respect.
But seriously: shut the fuck up about American politics, okay? Please. You're trying my patience.
Look, I get the fact that our Conservative Republican Texan President rubs you the wrong way. I understand that American Foreign Policy essentially pisses in your poutine. I realize that as gross generalizations go, you are far more liberal and left-of-center than we, and that's why you're frequently so appalled at our actions.
But you've got to stop bitching about American politics. It's not a healthy mindset. I mean, you care more about our politics than we do, and there's precious little you can do to change our government. You can shake your fists and stamp your little feet and it will do bugger-all in the grand scheme of things.
You want to change our government? Immigrate, become an American citizen, and vote in elections. Then you can bitch all you want, and you might actually change something.
As it stands now, though? You're like the bitter ex-boyfriend who can't let go of being angry at his ex for breaking up with him years ago. You obsess about us, write screeds and diatribes and blogs about us, and it's really quite sad because, overall, we barely know you exist. Look, I'm not proud to admit my ignorance, but I will to make this point:
- I know that Felipe Calderón is the President of Mexico, a nation which doesn't share our language.
- I know that Gordon Brown is the Prime Minister of England, a nation which not only doesn't share a border with America but is also on the other side of the Atlantic.
- But Canada and America share a common language, a common border, and most (though not all) of a common culture, yet I still don't know who your Prime Minister is without Googling him.
So please, for your own mental and emotional health, let it go. Or dial it down a notch, at least. I mean, I couldn't stand Chirac, but I can count on my fingers the number of times I gave him enough thought to warrant even a slightly annoyed mood, much less a high dudgeon or good old-fashioned spleen venting. And when he lost the election to Sarkozy, I didn't throw a party; I merely nodded my head, smiled, and said, "Oh, good, I can like France again," and that's all the thought I gave it, because that's all it deserved. Much like psycho unstable exes, who are also better ignored than fretted over.
So please, Canada, I am imploring you: let it go. Let us go. We aren't going to change to suit you, much like you refuse to change on our account. Find a hobby, watch a hockey game, get drunk on your awesome Canadian beer; but if you keep obsessing about American politics, you're just going to end up on the White House lawn at three A.M., playing Peter Gabriel at top volume and begging us to take you back.
And no one wants that.
Love,
Erin Palette
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