by Chris Cannon
Canafact
Canada’s election cycle has a thirty-six-day legal minimum. Candidates spend most of that time apologizing to the other candidates for the inconvenience.
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The Canada Party Official “Grok the Vote” Drinking Game
· A candidate invokes the Founding Fathers to address an issue that didn’t exist before 1972: Take a drink.
· A candidate cites the Constitution to back a point contrary to what the Constitution actually says: Take a drink.
· A candidate mispronounces a country with whom the U.S. is at war: Take a drink.
· A candidate says he wants to get the government out of your private life, and then argues against contraception or gay marriage in the same sentence: Take a drink.
· A candidate complains about the unfair treatment of white people: Take a drink.
· A candidate attacks the moderator for asking a fair question: Take a drink.
· A moderator apologizes for asking a fair question: Take two drinks.
· A candidate cites the teachings of Jesus in an argument against helping the poor: Take a drink.
· An audience member makes a racist statement during the Q&A: Take a drink and slap yourself.
· A candidate fails to correct the racist statement because it works in his favor: Take a drink and slap the person on your right. If that person is of a different race, do a “Hate Crime Shot” (waterboard yourself with tequila).
· A candidate disparages Canada’s health care: Take a drink and move to Canada.
· A candidate provides an informed, fair, and practical solution to a complex problem: Consume remaining alcohol and exit the holodeck.
1.3 Making English the Official Language for Native English Speakers
More than three hundred languages are spoken in the United States, and let’s be honest, none of them are as lovely as the Queen’s English. The language of commerce and conquest, of Shakespeare and Dorothy Parker, of CSI: Las Vegas, CSI: Miami, and CSI: NY. Truly a global tongue.
For decades, Americans have been locked in a bitter struggle over whether to make English the country’s official language, so that alien invaders, when they decide to conquer earth, can avoid an embarrassing breach of interstellar protocol when they land on the White House lawn, slither down the flying-saucer ramp, and mistakenly utter the words “Llévame a su líder.”
Beyond interstellar matters, the philosophical stakes are what really drive the debate: whether or not citizens who don’t speak English should be allowed to vote, drive cars, and understand signs warning of possible shark attacks. Clearly a battle to save America’s soul.
Judging by the number of students enrolled in ESL (English as a Second Language) courses in the U.S.—about 3.8 million, accounting for 11 percent of the entire student population—even immigrants agree. That’s why we wholeheartedly endorse a constitutional amendment making English the official language of the United States of America. That’s also why this new amendment will require every American to pass our EPL (English as a Primary Language) course. Sample lessons include:
· “Where You At?”: Grammar That Breaks the Heart
· “Let’s Eat, People!”: How Commas Can Prevent a Zombie Apocalypse
· “Your Welcome”: Homonyms That Will Make People Stop Thanking You
· Using “Like” as an Adverb: Why People, Like, Want to Kill You When You Do That
· Irregardless, Orientate, and Other Words That Reflect on Your Value as a Human Being
In addition to written quizzes, all citizens will be required to pass oral exams to demonstrate a basic grasp of diction and pronunciation. For instance, when you utter the phrase “We will use nukes to fight terrorism,” the audience should not be hearing the word “tourism.” It confuses the terrorists and frightens the tourists. Similarly, words like “nother,” “probly,” “jewlry,” and “maynaise” will be airlifted to the island of lost syllables for a tearful reunion. It will be illegal for anyone to “aks” someone a question except in direct homage to Futurama.
We will build special reeducation facilities for people who pronounce “America” as if it has only two syllables. The United States is a proud country, with proud vowels. It doesn’t need a nickname. However, as French is the principal tongue of Quebec and Canada’s second official language, we will honor French speakers by allowing an apostrophe-riddled form of the title when it appears in print. Because ignoring the diversity of our community, as most U.S. citizens will tell you, would be downright un-’mer’can.
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Canafact
In 1969, Canada declared French the country’s second official language. To express appreciation, Quebec outlawed English.
It’s a Promise!
American English and Canadian English will be combined to form some sort of Super English that wears a cape and shoots lasers out of its punctuation.
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1.4 Combining Our Cities: Welcome to Van Francisco, Dirty Hippie Capital of the World!
Reducing the political divide between Canada and the United States would be pointless if we didn’t also address the cultural divide. Just as children must learn to share their toys when they live in the same room, our nations must learn to share their urban spaces when they team up to be the best damn country Jesus and Santa Claus ever imagined.
We propose integrating American and Canadian cities to form somewhat virtual megacities, largely connected by the internet, high-speed rail, and a vague sense of something familiar off in the distance. Although tempted to pair cities using the “odd couple” plot device (the Chinatown of the North meets the swamp people of Florida), we opted instead to create positive partnerships that contribute to the nation as a whole.
Van Francisco
City Motto: “Prohibere faciens me furere” (“Quit harshing my mellow.”)
Biggest import: UV lamps
Biggest export: Synonyms for “wet”
Imagine the power of combining San Francisco’s caffeinated, tech-savvy hippies with Vancouver’s outdoorsy, weed-savvy hippies. Interstate 5 would become the world’s largest bike lane. Facebook would stop trying to improve itself and “just be grateful for what it has.” Granola would become a verb. Ultimate Frisbee would finally be considered a sport.
This new breed of super-hippie would consolidate North America’s sense of righteous indignation into a single, uniform voice for oppressed people no one has actually ever met. Berkeley would establish its long-awaited “Department of Simpsons References,” and “Mr. Plow” would become the school fight song. A well-funded system of communes would shelter the entire homeless population, where they would find meaning and personal fulfillment turning unused city plots into organic crack farms.
Queboston
Population: Who’s askin’?
Sports team: The Rouge Sox
Official food: Anything fried in sugar
Quebec and Boston, two cities where visitors can’t understand the locals, now one city where the locals can’t understand the locals. The inevitable French–New England patois of the clashing tongues would inject fresh DNA into the stilted Northeast vernacular, producing such sweet, nasally phrases as “pahk le cah dans Hahvahd Yahd.” What could be more sing-songy than a redneck Frenchman with a Cambridge accent?
(In technical language, a spontaneous pidgin hybrid would emerge from combining the largely feminine “capital dialect” of Quebec French with the overt masculinity of non-rhotic Boston English. In layman’s terms, Noam Chomsky would shoot himself in the face.)
Dalgary
Known for: Convict Coliseum, a reality show combining executions and rodeos
Biggest import: Buckle polish
Biggest export: Global warming
The inevitability of the Keystone XL Pipeline connecting the va
st, oily Alberta tar sands to the vast, oily average Texan makes this megalopolis a no-brainer. Dallas is often called the “Calgary of the South,” or the other way around, we’re not really sure, but they are definitely the “each of each other.”
Fortunately, “Big D” and “Big C” are practically connected already, as the interstitial states of Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, and Montana are little more than places where cars broke down on their way to one of these two fine cities. Once they are physically connected by the pipeline, Dallas and Calgary will find much in common, from their Museums of Denim to their comparably small populations of frightened homosexuals.
New Toronto
Longest season: Humidity
Official animal: The purse dog
Official song: “We Will Rockefeller You”
Toronto has long held itself up as a modern hub of global enterprise and cosmopolitan culture. Once we fuse the “Gateway to Hamilton” with New York City, this attitude will finally be justified.
The most significant change for New Torontonians will be in marrying New York’s and Toronto’s massive theater districts—already two of the world’s largest—into one streamlined operation. To this end, all major stages will show the same play, a work of literary genius that combines each country’s most popular musical into a single production: Cats of Green Gables. Current Toronto thespian Ian Ronningen will star (in every production) as the Canadian orphan mistakenly adopted by the U.S. Legislature, where he lives out his days watching congressional pussies urinating all over the legal process. (Tickets cover the whole seat, but you’ll only need the edge!)
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Canafact
Americans can become born-again Canadians by accepting hockey into their life and dipping their forehead into a bowl of maple syrup.
It’s a Promise!
Work commutes from the suburbs will be restricted by your vehicle’s mileage. Bicyclists will have unlimited range. Humvee owners should reserve a parking spot at the end of their driveway.
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1.5 Understanding Hockey, from the Country That Gave You Football and Basketball
The concept of sports as a metaphor for war goes back as far as sports, metaphors, and wars. Early athletic competitions were little more than wars with sidelines. Who can forget the Euphrates Bowl of 632 BCE, when Babylon’s Hanging Gardeners routed the Fighting Nebuchadnezzars 26–7? It was from this legendary game that we acquired the tradition of slaves pouring a vat of blood over “Coach Pharaoh’s” head in a victory celebration, which of course led to the tradition of slaves being buried alive with their coaches.
As Canadians find actual wars costly and inconvenient, we’ve become purists in the realm of sports, choosing to honor our athletic forebears by conducting all our murder, rape, and pillaging in controlled sixty-minute sessions on Saturday afternoons. Because we also prize our dry sense of humor, we hold this sport on a sheet of ice, combining the grace of carefree skating with the brutality of beating your colleagues with large wooden sticks. Fights are encouraged. Helmets are worn for show. Teeth are a luxury. We call it “hockey,” and it is Canada’s theater of war.
It was hockey—via the Canada-USSR “Friendship Series” in 1972 and the 1980 “Miracle on Ice” between the USSR and the U.S.—that prevented the Cold War from going all nuclear. It is hockey, ironically, that makes Canadians so nice; after just watching a game, we are too tired to fight. Even the players—talking to the media after an hour of savagely pummeling the other team with elbows, sticks, pucks, and fists—have nothing but kind words for the opponents they just spent sixty minutes trying to kill. “Yeah, I knew when he pulled the shiv out of his boot and stabbed me in the back of the neck that he wanted the goal. That’s dedication, and I really respect that, good on him.” Game over. Matter settled. Help me reattach my arm and we’ll go get some beers.
Hockey is the great peacemaker, and Canada has been campaigning the United Nations for years to get countries to settle their disputes through hockey games. (It’s late in the third period. The Israeli Assassins are down by one goal, with the Palestinian Bombers on a power play. The winner takes Jerusalem. Never mind the sheer entertainment value of watching desert countries play an ice sport, the prevalence of low-scoring games prevents either team from dominating, so they would just alternate victories year after year and end up sharing the Holy City after all. Problem solved, and never more than one player beheaded with a skate blade. Now let’s go get some beers.)
As the world’s predominant hockey country, Canada would be happy to host these games and provide referees with the requisite blue helmets. Imagine the global TV rights and jersey sales. Move over tar sands, Canadaddy has a new cow to milk.
As Americans may only be familiar with hockey through the movie Slap Shot and the silver-medal game against Canada in the 2010 Olympics [Although we refer to it as the “gold-medal game.”], we’ve attempted to explain the sport through references that may be familiar to our southern neighbors. [We understand that diabetes affects the eyes, but if you are going to televise our games, we beg you not to add a streaking fireball indicating the puck’s location. It hurts our tummies.]
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It’s a Promise!
Sports team names must reflect their home cities’ civil rights records. Welcome to the NHL, Los Angeles Rodney Kings!
Canafact
In 1891, Ontario native Dr. James Naismith created “soccerballand2peachbaskets,” later simplified to “peachball,” “soccerand2,” “soccerbasket,” “ballandpeach,” “ballbasket,” “balland2peaches,” and finally, “basketball.” A few years later, a Canadian team introduced Americans to a modified version of “rugby football,” which the Americans ironically shortened to “football” after taking most of the footy parts out.
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The Very Basics of Hockey
Personnel
1 goalie + 5 players per team (think 1 coffee + 5 donuts per breakfast)
Playing Surface
Sheet of ice (think a frozen basketball court)
Equipment
Puck (think ball)
Stick (think baseball bat or toilet snake)
Helmet (think helmet)
Objective
Put puck in the net (think mortar round in cave opening)
Goalie stops puck (think Homeland Security and a brown person)
Score more than opponent (think obvious)
Other Terms
Faceoff/puck drop (think unlocking the mall doors for a Nike shoe debut)
Body checking (think armless football tackles)
Offside (think nailing your neighbor’s spouse, in their bed)
Penalty Shot (think “two for flinching”)
Roughing (think being an asshole)
Icing (think... we actually don’t know what this is. Icing is the most subjective call in hockey. If a player shoots the puck down the ice from behind the half, and it travels past the opposing goal line before any player touches it, play is stopped, and a faceoff occurs back in the shooting player’s defensive end. A linesman can call off an icing if he feels like it, had a heavy breakfast, recently broke up with his girlfriend, or wants to throw the Vancouver–Dallas game on February 26, 2012.)
Length of play
Three twenty-minute periods (think ¼ of a baseball game, with twice the beer)
As you may have guessed, we intend to make hockey the official sport of the United States of America. We realize the hobby known as baseball has already claimed the title of “America’s pastime,” and we agree the past is where it belongs. We’re confident that Americans will embrace hockey, especially the fighting—something baseball has tried to implement, but it always looks like ninety blindfolded squirrels chasing a greased nut. Amazingly, nobody ever manages to hit anybody, which is sad, since hand-eye coordination is the only w
hiff of athleticism baseball requires.
You will enjoy hockey’s futuristic, arena-of-death feel, and though baseball fans will have fewer opportunities to nap during games, they will easily relate to hockey fans, who are equally drunk and privileged. Once Americans embrace hockey with the same zeal as they do desperate housewives and bottled water, the sport will be embraced by the world. Imagine the day when a UN Security Council speech concludes with: “...and we intend to leave it on the ice, Mr. Secretary General. We’ll get ’em next year.”
1.6 The Cameron Plan: America in 3D
One spring day in 1905, Albert Einstein held a wrestling match with the speed of light. Unable to pin down a core assumption of Newtonian physics—that velocities could be added one upon the other without end—Einstein gave up the match and tried to be happy that he had lasted a full three rounds.
Then he recalled a moment he rode a streetcar in Bern, watching a clock tower behind the train recede into the distance. He tried to imagine how the tower would appear if the train were traveling the speed of light, and realized that it would not recede at all, because the light from the tower could not catch up to the speeding vehicle. The clock on the train, however, would continue to tick away. This was his eureka moment that changed human history—the realization that time and distance are not fixed notions, but relative to the observer. Einstein immediately posted this on his Facebook page as “OMG, speed of light constant, time totally not! Relativity much?” People liked it, and suddenly everybody wanted to be his friend.