POSTCARD FROM CALGARY: Blame Canada?

CALGARY, CANADA—I never understood what was so funny about South Park. A bunch of four-foot tall humanoids standing around in snowsuits twelve months a year is not an uncommon sight where I live, and, surprisingly enough, neither are fat children who can't stop cursing. But that, I suppose, was never the root of South Park’s humour. It was those bi-visaged flatulent Canadian television stars, Terrence and Phillip, who destroyed the moral fibre of South Park, thus igniting the war against the neighbours to the north and spurring the immortal war ballad, “Blame Canada.” Like I said, I just didn’t get it. Canadians’ jaws are firmly attached to the upper halves of their faces, we’re only as flatulent as the next guy, and, I implore you, what has gone wrong since Canada came along?

These important issues have plagued me for years, but, after careful research on both sides of the border, I have realized that there’s nothing to get about South Park. American jokes at Canada’s expense are based only on a dislike for the unfamiliar. Here is an example, taken from academic website www.thespark.com:

Does Canada suck or what?
a)yes
b)yeah

Now, such humour is not offensive to any Canadian. In fact, it’s a relief that when the average American laughs at Canada, he’s only laughing at his own ignorance. I fear that the Canadian side of the enmity is far more insidious. See, we’re really laughing at you.

While the American side of 49th-parallel rivalry is one that delights in blind ignorance and the default knowledge that America must be richer, more powerful and more important than whatever nation it is pitted against, not so that of Canada. Our parasitic patriotism is rooted not in what we are, but rather what we’re not.

Perhaps the most salient example is the wildly popular Molson Canadian advertising campaign of 2000. Joe Canadian stands in front of a large audience and proceeds to tell us why he’s not American: he knows that Canada has a population of more than three (even if you're not counting the beavers or the polar bears), he proudly sews his own flag on his backpack and, most importantly, it's pronounced “zed, not zee, zed!” The “Molson rant” became so popular that the actor portraying Joe Canadian was flown across Canada on our national holiday (Canada Day, July 1, for those of you who might like to know) to deliver his famed speech in 12 different locales cross-country in just under 30 hours (and that’s in American hours, not metric hours, but we'll get into that later). Never mind that the actor has since obtained a green card; Joe Canadian and the Molson Rant inspired the greatest wave of patriotism since, well, ever. This may sound like a gross exaggeration, but it’s not. Canadian national pride consists solely of a dislike for Americans and their goddamned ignorance.

Another case in point is the much-loved television segment, “Talking To Americans.” It’s a lot like “Street Smarts,” except that every American—from Cletus to Clinton—is prey for the interviewer, and every Canadian is banking on their ignorance. In their one-hour April Fools’ Day special, the host flew to various cities, asking Americans about phony issues that any Canadian—or American with common sense—would easily rebuff. Example: “What do you think about the illegal rhinoceros hunt in Saskatchewan?” Or, “Canada’s been thinking about switching to the twenty-four hour clock. Right now we use a twenty-hour metric day. What’s your opinion?” Everyone from educated, empowered Northeasterners to Venice Beach rollerblade automatons gave their opinions. The governor from Michigan congratulated us on our change to the 24-hour clock. George W. Bush, and then Al Gore ’69, were exposed as being ignorant of the name of our Prime Minister. I watched a fellow Quadling railing against the despicable rhinoceros hunt. In Canada, not only is American ignorance fun for the whole family, it’s delivered to us over national television every Sunday night.

However, I have come to realize that our sense of humour is a hypocritical one. After growing up as a tried-and-true Americanthrope, then residing for two years in the country I was raised to laugh at, and then returning home to a country at the mercy of a beer commercial, it is easier to gain a little more perspective. While it’s not nice to laugh at the unfamiliar, it’s also not nice to laugh at the ignorant. And, now that I know better, I’ve realized that Canadians know very little about America. Our knowledge is generally confined to a caricature of an obese, gun-toting, Jerry-Springer-bitch-slapping tornado victim.

And while it’s impossible to forget the name of the leader of the free world or the capital of our most lucrative trade partner, only since I obtained my F-1 visa have I learned how to spell Massachusetts or locate Pennsylvania on a map. I didn’t know about the electoral college until the fiasco in November and I still have no idea whose heads are carved into Mount Rushmore. I don’t know and I don’t care. Like any good American, I know that ignorance is bliss, and that is one thing we have in common on both sides of the border.

Thalia S. Field ’03, an Earth and Planetary Sciences concentrator in Pforzheimer House, is associate arts editor of The Crimson. This summer she is working on an epidemiological study for the Calgary Regional Health Authority.