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The rough guide for deserters By HEATHER MALLICK
Home is the place where they have to take you in, Robert Frost wrote.
In the case of the American army deserters now arriving in Canada, home
is the place where they want to give you a lethal injection. So all they're
asking of Canada, their new home, is a bed in the spare room of a Quaker
family, and all we ask of them is that they never complain they can't see
the puck. That remark makes Canadians crazy.
These young men -- there have been at least two so far, and probably
women to come -- are different from the Vietnam lot in that they weren't
drafted. The United States itself is different in that it's worse. Such
is the huge divide between rich and poor that these young people signed
up so they could afford to go to college. They thought that National Guard
duty meant, say, guarding supermarkets against looters during the next
Mississippi flood. Then they were in Iraq with American soldiers and mercenaries
and some pissed-off troops from Poland and Italy.
Little did they know that the man who stole the 2000 election would
boast with that unnerving, uncertain grin that he was "a wartime president."
Osbert Sitwell once wrote a poem about Junior's very situation: "I think,
myself,/That my new war/Is one of the nicest we've had;/It is not war really,/It
is only a training for the next one/Besides, we have not declared war;/We
are merely restoring order." Trouble is, Mr. Sitwell wrote this in 1919.
How embarrassing for Mr. Bush, a Chihuahua chewing the pant leg of history.
Read economist Paul Krugman's The Great Unravelling about how
Dick Cheney's army of the radical right has given the rich tax breaks the
way you pump food down the throat of a fat goose until they flap their
wings to signal they're full, thanks, and you keep squeezing the bulb.
The poor and middle class got comparatively nothing to such an extent that
for the first time in history, Americans on average are becoming shorter
than their European counterparts, who are raising ceilings and lengthening
beds. Americans, through the 19th and 20th centuries, were two inches taller
than the peasanty Brits; now they're half an inch shorter, the result of
bad food and no health care for the poor.
I'm not saying the deserters signed up as part of a long-term plan to
avoid having short children, but that's how it worked out. You may think
the United States won't execute them if Canada sends them back. But the
U.S. Army no longer even recognizes shell shock (a soldier who had anxiety
attacks after seeing an Iraqi sliced in half was recently charged with
cowardice, which means a firing squad [1]).
Even Bill Clinton, in 1992, upheld the death sentence of a man so profoundly
brain-damaged that when he was given his last meal, he said he would save
his pecan pie for later.
Peaceful young Americans coming to Canada, here's a tip: Put your children
in French immersion. It'll pay off. Take classes in plumbing; a good plumber
in this country can make a fortune, and no householder will begrudge it.
This is also true of electricians and carpet cleaners; they are universally
incompetent. I once had my carpets cleaned by a blind man who created a
whole new set of stains. Then he put on his glasses - "Now I can see!"
he said - and wrote out the bill. But I didn't call his boss to complain
-- Canadians never do. I just bought scatter rugs.
In Canada, racism is not us. Take a ride on the Toronto subway and you
will see the world riding together in perfect amiability. Would you mind
getting your hockey gear off the seat and your backpack out of my face?
Thanks.
You must now believe in peace, order and good government. Don't pursue
happiness; let it find you.
Hold doors open for women, as Canadian men can no longer be counted
on to do this. I hold doors open for both women and men, without being
thanked, and I hiss, "You're welcome," but not too loudly in case I get
punched in the head from behind.
If you want to understand politics, grab the whole range of American
politics and move it left. Our current Liberals are conservative Democrats,
our New Democrats are Naderites, except younger, cooler and not getting
Democratic death threats; our Conservatives, who used to be Reform, are
Radical Right Republicans on Nyquil. They don't like immigrants; I'd vote
NDP if I were you.
Religion: If you have one, don't mention it at parties. The subject
does not arise here. Army deserter Jeremy Hinzman is a Buddhist; you can
talk about that, Jeremy, because people think it's yoga. Jeremy's a nice
name. None of the deserters so far have been called Billy Ray. If you are,
change it to Jeremy -- there's a good Canadian.
Learn the name of our PM. Then tell us, because we forget. Don't refer
to breasts as hooters, headlights or a great rack. Just call them breasts.
Yes, we do smoke a little dope, on Mondays, CBC comedy night.
Recycle like you mean it. Read Fire and Ice by pollster Michael
Adams about how Canadians are growing ever more different from Americans.
Then read Margaret Atwood and Doug Coupland, shop at Roots, stop in at
Tim Hortons for a pile of Timbits on your way to your plumbing class. Arrive
in a Prius or a Smart Car, which shouts, "I care about the environment,"
and you, short Buddhist, are a shoo-in for citizenship.
hmallick@globeandmail.ca
[1] see "Army Drops Charges Against Soldier"
at http://www.duckdaotsu.org/hero_charged.html
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