"Trudeau"

 I was a federal snivel servant in Ottawa working for the government's Northern Canada Power Commission when his dad, 'Painful Pierre' issued orders that all Anglophones in the federal civil service would have their positions 'red-circled' and their incomes frozen until such time as they became functionally bilingual, and that was later 'fine-tuned' to result in Francophones eventually occupying all the executive or 'mandarin' positions in our federal civil service. It's still that way today, and if you doubt that, just find a Government of Canada telephone directory, and look for the supervisory or leadership classifications in various departments. If they haven't got Francophone names, they must be sleeping with someone who does.

I wouldn't vote for anyone named 'Trudeau' even if he kissed my ass until I barked like a fox! And if you vote for him, you'll probably be just as sorry for it as I was back in the 1960s in Ottawa, when 'Painful Pierre' turned out to be something considerably less than the saviour of the nation.

Francophones have never forgiven the British (read: Anglophones) for winning that battle at Quebec City in 1759, and their one province has been laying their guilt-trips on the rest of Canada ever since, and we've bent over backward to give them far more than they rightfully deserved in various negotiations ever since. And that's just been irresponsibly stupid, and it has cost us far more than the province of Quebec is worth.

And the disgusting aspect of all this is that there isn't a goddamned one of us alive today who had anything to do with the British screwing the French out of their part of North America back in that war they were fighting in the 1750s. So why are we still paying for those old mistakes? They're like our native Indians - they don't want the country back, they just want to bleed us dry while they howl about it. And that, dear reader, is a bird's eye view of our Canadian heritage. You don't have to be crazy to live here, but it sure as hell helps! 

Please note:

Why do I still get 'all shook up' over something that happened in the mid-1960s in Ottawa, where the French and English have always been jockeying for position in civil service jobs? Purely a selfish reason: I had a very good job in a federal government electrical utility, where I was executive assistant to the engineer in charge of its hydro-electric division, and also did part-time work for its engineer in charge of the diesel-electric division. And those two gentlemen were in positions similar to vice-presidents in private industry, right next to the top man in our corporate pecking order. Between us, we had our fingers on the pulse of the whole outfit, and nothing happened that we didn't know about. And needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed being the "gopher" for these gentlemen. I flew all over the country on special assignments, and it was nice being able to relate to engineers on their level in their own habitat. And then along came that goddamned Trudeau, and the rest is history. 

But it wasn't all bad. I'm the guy who started them seriously thinking about training our northern residents to operate their own power systems, and I put together a training manual for them, based on the ones we had at Ontario Hydro, and the guys at the plants up north really liked it, because being an operator myself, I knew what they really needed to know, and made sure all of it was in that little manual. As a result, this "crazy kabloona" from down south was very popular in the arctic, where the action was. And the arctic to me was like landing on a strange foreign planet - but that's another story for another time. I hope Leo and all his "cousins" in Chesterfield Inlet are still very much alive and well. We had some good times, and he taught me a lot about our far north and how to survive in it. And I taught him what the world looks like from the top of a hydro pole. When he realized he could let go of it and depend on the belt to hold him, I had a hell of time getting him to come down, until all his pals saw him up there. Work should also be fun. And it was.