Last week saw the phenomenon of U.S. president-elect Donald Trump joking to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau that if he didn’t like Trump’s proposed 25 per cent tariffs, then he should consider making Canada the 51st state.
Trump then followed it up by posting an AI-generated graphic showing him standing athwart a mountain landscape alongside a Canadian flag. And at least one of his rallies has featured the chant “51st state!”
In Dear Diary, the National Post satirically re-imagines a week in the life of a newsmaker. This week, Tristin Hopper takes a journey inside the thoughts of the Dominion of Canada.
MONDAY
Poor, predictable America: Always fantasizing about expansionism without considering the consequences. It happens every few years; Philippines, Cuba, Vietnam, Afghanistan. You’re off on some grand romance and when it predictably ends in a messy divorce you head home and go right back to eyeing your oldest flame: The forbidden crush just across the border. The one you truly want, no matter how many times you try to find solace in another.
I know we can’t be together, but I also know you’ll never understand.
TUESDAY
Don’t get me wrong; annexation would be thrilling. What could be naughtier than abolishing the world’s longest undefended border? Or getting a Chik-Fil-A in all 10 provinces? Or watching CNN as a swing voter, instead of just as a voyeur. Or screaming “I know my rights!” at a cop and having it mean something.
Who among us doesn’t want to lock up serial child molesters in a Supermax instead of sending them to a healing lodge? Or strap a revolver to one’s belt just to see what it would feel like to be an armed citizen at the mall. Or go to a store that sells booze, cigarettes, firecrackers and shotguns all in the same place.
I’m not ashamed to say it all gives me goosebumps. I’ve resented you, looked down on you, claimed to hate you, but I’ve never said I wasn’t attracted to you.
WEDNESDAY
And the lifestyle benefits; my god. A four-lane interstate to Alaska. Flyovers at CFL games that consist of an entire formation of fifth-generation fighters, instead of just a search and rescue helicopter. Hell, maybe they wouldn’t even *be* CFL games?
A dollar that’s worth … a dollar, rather than 60 cents. Books that can be purchased at the actual price, instead of the “in Canada” price. Productivity and per-capita GDP to burn, and all with lower taxes.
The thought is always there. Every time I’m clipping coupons or subsidizing some foreign automaker just so they’ll build me a battery plant, there’s always that weak moment where I think, “You wouldn’t need to be doing any of this if you’d just let America take care of you.”
THURSDAY
And yet, even when I lay out all the material benefits of statehood, I know it’s not for me.
Snoop Dogg has a net worth of $150 million. You know what his favourite snack is? Hard-boiled eggs like his mom used to make. You can offer me the world, but it’s not what I know.
I like giant monopolistic, uncompetitive corporations. Sure, my cell phone bills are high and my butter doesn’t spread at room temperature, but at least the logo on the package never changes. I like government programs that offer me benefits in theory, even if not in practice: I can’t find a family doctor or a daycare spot, but I can dream. I like making unrealistic international pronouncements, because no one would ever expect me to back it up with aid or military force.
I like knowing who the head of state’s going to be in 50 years — and that the only time I ever see them is a Christmas Day address when they tell me that everything’s going to be all right.
FRIDAY
Sometimes, you can have two people who are very close and who love each other very much, but they can’t live together. It’s too toxic: There’s things they bring out in one another that are damaging to both parties. It’s tragic, but it’s true.
When you mix McDonnell-Douglas and Boeing, do you get an aviation juggernaut or do you get astronauts trapped in space and aircraft doors raining from the sky? When you serve a pizza topped with donair meat, does it bring together the best of both dishes, or does it ruin both in equal proportions? When you mix the RCMP with the FBI, do you just get J. Edgar Hoover in red serge?
I know my heart and I know my desires, but we would ruin each other.