Picture, if you will, the spectacle of Mark Carney—former Goldman Sachs grandee, triple-passport-wielding technocrat, and World Economic Forum poster boy—sitting across from Mike Myers, the erstwhile Austin Powers, in a video so cloying it could induce diabetic shock in a grizzly bear. And let us not forget the bloated, antiquated former SNl comedian has lived a life of luxury in the United States as a US citizen and hasn’t paid Canadian taxes since the late 80’s.
Myers, with all the gravitas of a man who once made a living shouting “Yeah, baby!”, fawns over Carney’s supposed pluck in standing up to “bullies.” The subtext, as subtle as a sledgehammer, is that Donald Trump—brash, orange, and unrepentantly American—is the playground thug, and Carney, the unelected savior of Canada, is the plucky underdog ready to deliver a St. Crispin’s Day speech against him. It’s nonsense so treacly it could drown a moose in maple syrup, and it reveals a deeper rot in the Canadian psyche: a nation addicted to its own sanctimonious mirage of moral superiority, even as it stumbles toward irrelevance.
Let’s dispense with the pleasantries. Canada is not some noble bastion of resistance against American hegemony. It’s a socialist dystopia—albeit one with better manners and worse weather than its southern neighbor—clinging to a brittle sense of national pride that masks its subservience to both its own bureaucracy and the whims of globalist elites like Carney. Trump, for all his bombast, has a point: Canada’s border is a sieve, and its fentanyl problem is real, even if the statistics don’t rival Mexico’s narco-nightmare. The U.S. Customs and Border Protection seized a mere 43 pounds of the stuff at the northern border last year, a rounding error compared to the 21,000-plus pounds nabbed at the Mexican line. But don’t let the numbers fool you—Canada’s role as a money-laundering hub for transnational drug cartels is well-documented, and its ports in British Columbia are a revolving door for organized crime. Trump’s demand for action isn’t just bluster; it’s a recognition that Canada’s polite negligence has consequences.Yet here come the Canadian politicians, elbows up, chests puffed, parroting slogans about “standing strong” against the Yankee bully. Carney, now the Liberal Party’s anointed one, calls a snap election for April 28, 2025, hoping to ride this wave of faux patriotism to victory. Pierre Poilievre, the Conservative front-runner, counters with his own “Canada First” blather, as if slapping a maple leaf on common sense makes it original. Neither seems willing to admit the obvious: Canada’s problems—fentanyl seepage, porous borders, an economy teetering under Trump’s tariff threats—require less posturing and more pragmatism. Who among them will agree with Trump? Likely none, because to do so would mean abandoning the sacred cow of Canadian identity: that we’re nicer, gentler, and morally superior to those gun-toting, Constitution-clutching Americans. It’s a delusion that’s costlier than the country’s stratospheric tax rates.
And oh, those taxes! Canada’s citizens stagger under a burden that would make a Scandinavian blush—personal income tax rates topping out at 33% federally, plus provincial levies that can push the total take north of 50% for the well-heeled. Meanwhile, the government subsidizes newcomers with gusto—temporary residents, asylum seekers, and immigrants get housing support and handouts while citizens queue up for unaffordable homes and crumbling healthcare. It’s a perverse inversion of justice, where the native-born are left to subsidize the dreams of those who’ve just arrived, all in the name of multicultural piety. Contrast this with the United States, where the individual still has a fighting chance to keep what he earns, and where the government’s largesse, while bloated, isn’t quite so brazenly tilted against its own.Then there’s the matter of rights—or rather, Canada’s glaring lack of them. The United States, for all its flaws, enshrines free speech and the right to bear arms in its Constitution, a document treated with a reverence that borders on the religious. Canada? Its Charter of Rights and Freedoms is a flimsy thing, riddled with qualifiers and subject to the whims of secret human rights tribunals. These kangaroo courts can haul you in for saying the wrong thing—say, criticizing immigration policy or questioning gender orthodoxy—and bankrupt you with fines and legal fees, all without the transparency of a proper trial. There’s no First Amendment here, no unalienable right to speak your mind. And forget defending yourself with anything sharper than a hockey stick—the right to bear arms is a foreign concept, leaving Canadians at the mercy of both criminals and an overweening state.
Even the nature of crime reveals Canada’s socialist-borderline-communist streak. In the U.S., if you wrong another person, the victim can choose to drop the charges—a nod to individual agency. In Canada, commit a crime, and it’s an offense against the Crown, that vestigial symbol of a monarchy most Canadians barely acknowledge. The state steps in, relentless and unforgiving, because here, you don’t just wrong your neighbor—you wrong the system. It’s a legal philosophy that elevates the collective over the individual, a hallmark of the creeping authoritarianism that hides behind Canada’s polite facade.While Canada preens and postures, the United States is undergoing a renaissance—or at least a reckoning. Trump’s America is stripping itself back to its constitutional roots, reasserting borders, economic sovereignty, and a muscular individualism that Canada can only dream of. It’s messy, chaotic, and often absurd, but it’s alive in a way Canada isn’t. Here, the socialist experiment chugs along, taxing its citizens into submission, silencing dissent with bureaucratic cudgels, and propping up a national pride that’s little more than a coping mechanism for irrelevance.
So, which Canadian politician will do what’s right and align with Trump’s demands? Don’t hold your breath. Carney’s too busy polishing his globalist credentials, and Poilievre’s too entrenched in the game of out-Canadianing his rivals. The smarter move—for Canada, not its politicians—would be to abandon this charade of national pride altogether. Admit the border’s a problem, crack down on the drug trade, and stop pretending that “standing up to bullies” is a substitute for policy. Better yet, look south and take notes. The States, for all their bombast, offer a vision of liberty and self-reliance that Canada’s high-tax, low-freedom dystopia can’t touch. It’s not annexation we should fear—it’s irrelevance.