The jet splashdown in the Hudson yesterday was one of those riveting spectacles, such that I almost felt sorry for George W. Bush since no one seemed to pay attention to his farewell address. (Okay, I didn't feel too bad.) It was really astonishing, even if it did mess up the West Side Highway commute. It brought Weehawken (where I used to live, a fine little township with a bust of Alexander Hamilton marking his duel with Aaron Burr) some well-deserved national and it was a tabloid-ready story for a tabloid-loving city that may be a cesspool of secularism but NEVER tires of "miracles." What I don't understand is this: While I could personally never hurt a living creature (blog commenters accepted), Canada geese of the variety that may have cause this near-tragedy get my goat, especially as I try to navigate the fecal minefields in parks and on lawns. What to do? "South Park" had it right:
Add to Del.icio.us
Add to Technorati
Add to Digg
Add to Newsvine
Add to Facebook
Add to StumbleUpon
Shh.
President Bush still has three more days to do just that.
Yeah, we are the scum of the earth. During the Cold War I remember how we Canadians sold snowballs to both sides. (Ah, war profiteering at its finest.)
We enjoy making fun of American nationalism. (Come to Canada and see how many Canadian flags are out ... very few.) We are the country that defines itself on what it is not, (not American, and not British.) We tend to know more about U.S. history than we do about our own, (if only to be aware and prepared for what may erupt next from our neighbour to the south.) And while we are pinko, gay-loving, liberal, hockey-playing, wimps; we also drink more beer than all of you put together. If you aren't careful we will release our secret weapon upon you, and then you will watch your manhood's wither. Yes, I am talking about Canadian women, who are renowned for their ability to drink anyone under the table. We will send them to your all-inclusive resorts and drive them bankrupt with the liquor costs. So watch it, the Canadian menace is at your doorstep, ready to subvert your culture, drink you under the table, and supply snowballs to Vladimir Putin.
Post a Comment
By submitting these comments, I agree to the beliefnet.com terms of service, rules of conduct and privacy policy (the "agreements"). I understand and agree that any content I post is licensed to beliefnet.com and may be used by beliefnet.com in accordance with the agreements.