Pop 89: “Go to Your Room, Mr. President”
By Madonna Hamel
Well, that was nice for as long as it lasted. For a minute, we Canadians were all getting along. Mind you, how long does a family stay united when their sole reason is a shared enemy? The situation last week, with the whole Elbows Out Love-fest, awakened an inter-provincial alliance not in resistance to America - but in disgust with America’s commander-in-chief.
Hopefully we can continue to stay focussed on our shared similarities. But now that Carney has called an election, he’s got his work cut out for him. We are retreating into our regional camps and highlighting our differences. And, if we’re not careful, our internal cries for attention to local causes in the race for the prime minister’s office will weaken our collective stance against the loose cannonballs coming from the south.
I was enjoying Carney doing his dad thing: telling toddler T. that there would be no discussion until he took a time-out. I’m “not going to respond to every little comment” you make when you’re talking trash, kiddo, he said. So you just go to your room and think about what you’ve done. Because “your words are disrespectful and they’re not helpful and they need to stop before we sit down and have a conversation.”
I’ll continue with my analogy from last week’s column of a rich older dude (USA) trying to force himself on a younger gal (Canada). The words in quotes are the president’s actual words: Look, you need me. And frankly, I need you, well, ok, your land, which “I would cherish”, believe me. And sure, “I don’t really care” who your dad is, “that’s not what’s important to me.” What’s important is “you’re meant to be my 51st” wife. And if you don’t want to come peacefully into my cherished fold, well, I’ll make your life a living hell because you are, by far, “the nastiest” girl I’ve ever had to deal with.”
The president is behaving like a full-blown addict in the final stages of his addiction. And what is he addicted to? Chaos. He gets his hit from the rush of being insulted and fabricating new insults. He is the perpetual victim even as he sits in the position of the most powerful person in the Western world. And when you are dealing with an addict deep into his disease you do not try to rationalize with him. Because you can’t rationalize with the irrational. We make a fatal mistake if we think we just need to get the man to see the insanity of his verbiage. In the same way, we know better than to try to talk sense to a babbling, repetitive drunk; we need to respond to Mr. Chaos with a: We’ll talk after you sleep it off, pal.
Unfortunately, the president is surrounded by others with their own addictions; to chaos, yes. To power. To that adrenaline rush of walking too close to the edge. Or that to that equally dangerous terminally unique status that magically imbues them with the power to change him. They promise that, at some point, things will “get back to normal”. Or “calm down”. Or “settle”. But addicts don’t like “calm” or “normal”, or “settled.” Serenity makes them nervous. In fact, they wouldn’t know it if they saw it. They only know how to react to a jazzed up, cranked, animosity-fuelled environment. They are tuned to messes so they can keep hollering: “Don’t mess with me!”
Every addict’s drug of choice is More. You won’t ever hear an addict say: No thanks I’ve had enough. In this case: more land, more compliments, more money. Anyone that can offer an addict “more” is their new friend. And once the river of plenty runs dry, well, then, to use the casino lingo: all bets are off. Suddenly, your new best friend is a traitor, and never has anyone been more hurt, more misunderstood, more insulted, more betrayed. Never, ever. Because addicts are also fond of absolute terms - they “always” and “never” their way through their days.
Sadly, especially for the rest of us, addiction is a progressive disease. The only way an addict ceases his increasingly unmanageable behaviour is if he 1) goes into recovery, usually requiring a moment of profound awareness through hitting bottom. Or 2) gets committed to a mental health facility or 3) goes to prison. There is also the horrible possibility he dies due to an overdose of “more”. Because there is no empire big enough to please his hunger. Just like there are not enough bottles of whiskey in the world to quench an alcoholic’s thirst.
A cautionary tale comes to mind: The Emperor’s New Clothes. No side-kick can both convince the emperor of his nakedness and at the same time point and marvel at his new outfit. Eventually, as with all victims of someone else’s hubris, his aides will topple alongside him; addicts always drag their enablers down with them.
Unfortunately, while Carney can say: “Sorry, I’m not talking to you until you make sense,” he can’t send this addict to his room. He also can’t convince the American public that their president is somehow doing this for our own good. I recently read this deluded statement from a “concerned” American about Canada: “Are we making them a state to take their resources? Or are we making them a state to make them better for themselves and us?”
Can Carney get it through to Americans that they are not “making us better”? Let’s hope so. He can remain true to his principles. If, as he says, he values “humility” above all virtues he must see his way through the next weeks with a focus on a united Canada. We can’t afford slipping into animosity between ourselves, like bickering kids in a family threatened with enforced foster care.
Humility is nigh impossible when you’re in the limelight. Pray Carney humbly does what’s best for Canada.