It's creepy how most Canadians live so close to our border.
We've known for a very long time that the French are insufferable pr**ks, that one has to keep the Germans under one's heel in order to keep them away from one's throat, and that the Belgians are a small minded people whose only claims to fame are beer, chocolate, and excellent tank and cavalry terrain. Most of us are also aware that our only truly steadfast friends are all English speaking nations or those whose liberation we have accomplished within the living memory of most of their people. It was the English speaking part which had us fooled for so long about the Canadians.
In the life of a person or a nation, it is a rare and valuable thing to discover who one's true friends are. Unfortunately, it's normally only when bad and dangerous times arrive that this discovery is made.
Before this last two years, we never really thought much about Canada. Now that they've managed to attract our attention, we do not think much of them. They are dead to us now, neither enemies nor friends.
If the Arctic Sea should open up and make Alaska an island, damn few of us would shed a single tear. That is not "hate" since hatred is reserved for the relevant. It is more a faintly sad feeling of having been betrayed by people we thought we knew.
Two words:
Paul Anka
enough said