A Nation Worth Ranting About

by Rick Mercer

  One assumes the phone lines at Immigration Canada did not light up that night.

  Luckily, the conversation soon turned to something any person with a passing knowledge of democracy could understand no matter where they lived: election night. It was shaping up to be a barn burner, and the host assumed—correctly—I would be glued to the results. “But,” she inquired, “is the rumour true that Twittering about election results in Canada as they come in is a criminal offence?”

  Yes, I was loath to admit, Elections Canada was attempting to succeed where Hosni Mubarak in Egypt and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in Iran had failed. They were attempting to stop people from tweeting.

  When the interview was over, off the air, I declined an offer to be interviewed the following night after midnight to report how it all turned out. This was a wise stroke of foresight. I know me. Why is that man yelling and why is there the sound of ice clinking in a glass?

  The producer of the program wasn’t too disappointed. Canadian election results hardly warrant great international scrutiny, especially in the aftermath of Osama bin Laden’s death and sexy Will-and-Kate honeymoon updates.

  By now, we all know that on election night it was all over by 10:15 Eastern, with most networks declaring a Conservative majority.

  For many Conservative voters, this was simply closing the deal on Stephen Harper’s promise of a stable government for the next four years; it was a vote for more of the same, please. For others, this indicates that Canada has finally taken a big step to the right, and they hope to see a very different Canada emerge.

  All we do know right now is that the animal farm in Ottawa has changed dramatically. The formerly cocky and entitled Liberal, an animal that once roamed wild in the nation’s capital, has ceased to exist. In its place, we have a population explosion of a new breed of NDPer. Not only have their numbers doubled, but they have gone from earnest to unctuous in one historic night. Very soon, they will gather in Stornaway—Jack will play guitar, they will shake their lentil jars and plot the next once-impossible step. They have supplanted the natural governing party of Canada in opposition; next stop, 24 Sussex Drive. God give me the strength to sit through any of those conversations.

  And then there are the Conservatives: the staffers, the supporters, the MPs themselves. For them, a majority is uncharted territory. This changes everything.

  Liberals, even when in opposition, are always surprised when they meet someone who isn’t a Liberal. They tend to believe everyone looks at the world the way they do.

  Conservatives are the opposite. No matter how much success they achieve, they constantly believe someone is out to get them. Conservatives always believe they are swimming against the current, even when there is ample evidence to prove otherwise. This has served them well; it has allowed them to remain united and focused. The one ideological characteristic all Conservatives in Ottawa share is a complete loyalty to the authority of Stephen Harper and his quest for a majority. But along the way, a lot of Conservatives have been told to sit down and shut up and wait for the big day. Now that it’s here, what now?

  Will the Prime Minister take this opportunity to relax, be more amicable, comfortable in the knowledge that the Opposition’s power has been erased? I think we all know the answer to that. Or will Mr. Harper go to work and salt the earth, and remove the subsidies to political parties, making it more difficult for the Opposition to function? And more importantly, will he be able to keep his own troops down on the farm now that they have seen the glory that is a majority?

  All we can be certain of is that, for the time being, with a comfortable majority in the House, Stephen Harper will do whatever the hell he wants. That’s what Canada voted for.

  The more pressing question is, What will the Liberals do? The talk on election night, despite Harper’s historic victory, was all about them. In four years from now, on election night, will the Liberals be mentioned at all?

  Some people, Liberals among them, say this is the best thing that could happen to the party. It’s been called tough medicine, the political equivalent of a bankruptcy protection that will force them to restructure and refocus. But this is not just a train wreck for the Liberal Party. This is Lockerbie. Yes, this is a plane crashing into a Scottish village. If you are a Liberal, it must be very hard to imagine any good coming out of this.

  But election results are not random events; they are not natural or manmade disasters; they are just that—results.

  And the results are stunning. A Conservative majority, the rise of the NDP, the annihilation of the Bloc Québécois, the near death of the Liberals. We saw two national leaders get defeated and Elizabeth May win. In Quebec, a nineteen-year-old voted in his first federal election, for himself, and is now a newly elected NDP MP. Had he lost, he would have sought summer employment at a golf course.

  We have had forty-one federal elections in this country, and one hopes the plan is to have many more. And if history has taught us anything, it is this: we show up at the polls and, at the end of the night, governments may rise and governments may fall. For some of those running, it will be the greatest night of their lives; others will find themselves in the glare of TV lights, wearing a smile while secretly cursing the day they considered public service.

  And while we ponder the results and study what happened, and speculate about what it all might mean for Canada, it doesn’t hurt to think about what didn’t happen on election day. No shots were fired, no cars were burnt, nobody was intimidated at the polling booth and nobody died.

  And while that mightn’t make headlines on the BBC World Service, that’s exactly the way it should be. It’s why we are a nation worth voting for.

  At the Vancouver Circus School with author Ryan Knighton.

  Rick: “For those of you who don’t know your story: you went blind but didn’t notice.”

  Ryan: “Yes, I lost my sight very slowly.”

  Rick: “It snuck up on you. And you had lots of car accidents.”

  Ryan: “I did. I had twelve.”

  Rick: “How did you get your licence? That’s a little embarrassing for the guy who passed you. Did they do this on the test?” (Waves hand in front of Ryan’s face.)

  Ryan: “Did they do what?”

  Rick: “Exactly.”

  THE URGE TO MERGE

  September 13, 2011

  Well, what a difference a summer makes. Who could have guessed a few months ago that, just like that, both opposition parties would have interim leaders? What does it mean? Does anyone care? And should these parties seize on this historic moment and merge, creating one centre-left party?

  Now, this is a very emotional debate if you’re a political activist. And don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing wrong with political activists. They’re important people to all parties. These are the people who work the phones and put the signs on the lawn. These are the people who have dedicated their lives to creating a political climate in this country that most Canadians feel is vile and disgusting. They do good work. So, for argument’s sake, let’s just remove them from the equation. Which is actually very easy.

  Less than 2 percent of Canadians belong to a political party, and very few of them actually work on the campaigns. When it comes to this merger business, the average voter is far more practical. If someone voted Liberal or NDP in the last few elections, they don’t care about some bad blood left over from some hard-fought battle in upper, inner, outer, lower. No, they’re just mad that the Tory keeps getting elected.

  So my advice to both parties: unless you love the aroma of opposition, it’s shotgun wedding time. Take Jean Chrétien and Ed Broadbent, put them in a room with a pen and paper, a six-pack of beer, put the Barry Manilow on the turntable, lock the door and let the magic happen. And don’t let them out until they’ve got an agreement. Don’t worry, they’re both old. They’ll want to be in bed by ten.

  Do that, and the entire thing could be settled by this time tomorrow. The activists will say, “What just happened?” Th
e voters will say, “What took you so long?”

  CANADA KILLS

  September 20, 2011

  It must be terrible to find out that someone you love is guilty of a serious crime. Imagine if you found out that, when you weren’t looking, they were busy killing people.

  It would be like finding out that while you were enjoying your summer vacation, your country, a country you love unconditionally, Canada, stood virtually alone on the world stage against one hundred other countries and stopped asbestos from being declared a hazardous material. I mean, we all know it’s hazardous. If you breathe it, you will die. It’s not a question of if, but when. It’s as simple as that.

  Which is why, when it’s used in Canada, if you want to go within ten thousand feet of the stuff, you are required to have a respirator, a hazmat suit and a string of rosary beads. Not that we use it very much anymore. The whole “it will kill you” thing has really affected sales. So instead, we mine it and we ship it to the Third World. And because of us, because of Canada, it’s not labelled as hazardous. There is footage of workers in India unloading Canadian asbestos by hand; the stuff is floating in the air like the aftermath of a sorority pillow fight. Women in India are hired to weave Canadian asbestos into fabric.

  Meanwhile, here in Canada, we’re spending tens of millions of dollars removing all asbestos from the Parliament Buildings and the Prime Minister’s residence. Which we should. But the fact that we’re spending millions more ensuring that we can sell it to the Third World without warning them puts us in criminal territory.

  Prime Minister, the Maple Leaf is a great brand. It stands the world over for the true north strong and free. Let’s not put “killer” on the list.

  A LESSON IN IRONY

  September 27, 2011

  Stephen Harper likes to remind us that he got elected by promising to cut government spending. And boy, is he serious about it. How serious? He’s gone out and hired some guys from Bay Street in Toronto to tell him how to do it. And what a bargain. The Harper government is paying these guys ninety thousand dollars a day for eight months. It works out to be about twenty million dollars.

  Now, there are a few ways you could look at this. Some people may say this is an egregious waste of taxpayers’ money, but not me. But then, I’m a glass-half-full kind of guy. I prefer to look at this as a teaching moment. You know, for the kids. The concept of irony is introduced in Canadian schools at about Grade 8, and many teachers say it is a difficult one for the children to grasp. Not anymore, thanks to Mr. Harper. The idea of spending ninety thousand dollars a day to get tips on how not to spend money—that is the new textbook definition of irony. A five-year-old will understand irony after this.

  I understand that sometimes you have to pay the big bucks for an expert. Last month, I hired a plumber to fix my toilet, because I don’t know how to do that. The difference is, I didn’t run around the country telling everyone that I was the only guy in Canada who could fix the toilet, which is what Harper did. And now he’s had to go out and hire these consultants who have no experience balancing this country’s books to tell him how to do it.

  Hey Steve, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you give Paul Martin a call? He’s got experience. I mean, I know he was pretty loopy when it came to being prime minister, but as a finance minister, he knocked it out of the park. Or better yet, why don’t you call the last Conservative finance minister who left the country’s books in better shape than when he found them?

  Oh, right. That would be Sir Samuel Tilley, who died in 1896.

  Come on, Steve, save us all twenty million—give Paul a call.

  At the 35th annual Canadian Finals Rodeo, Edmonton.

  Rick: “There’s a lot of prize money up for grabs: $1.27 million! You know what the richest literary prize is in Canada? Fifty grand, for the Giller.”

  KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON

  October 4, 2011

  I am not by nature a nervous person. I’m not brave, I’m just not nervous. Because, luckily, I’ve learned to ignore everything politicians have to say. This is a good thing, because in Canada, every time you turn around, another Harper cabinet minister is in a full-blown panic. It’s like they believe their number-one job description is to freak Canadians out. It’s at the point now where if Vic Toews or Jason Kenney ran into my house in the middle of the night screaming “Fire,” I’m not moving until I smell smoke.

  It doesn’t matter what the issue, the message is always the same: be afraid, Canada, be very afraid. And build more prisons.

  And the Prime Minister? The only time he seems happy is when he’s hanging out with Nickelback, or he’s leaning forward, reminding us once again that we live in perilous times, that danger is lapping at our shores. Winston Churchill was more upbeat at the height of the Blitz.

  Meanwhile, statistically, we are living in the safest time in our entire history. Crime is down. You would think the government might remind us of that on occasion. I mean, it’s a good-news story. Crime is down. But instead, they say, “Well, crime is down, but unreported crime is up.” Who does that? That’s like instead of telling your kid there’s no monster under the bed, you say, “Well, there are no reports of monsters under your bed. But unreported monsters? Who’s to say?”

  Why would a government want people to be afraid? Because people who are afraid, they do what they’re told. They pass over their lunch money. They keep their mouths shut.

  Don’t fall for it. There’s nothing to fear but fear itself, and the people who benefit from spreading it.

  ON THE FENCE

  October 11, 2011

  I admit I don’t spend that much time thinking about border security. Most Canadians don’t. Which, I guess, is something we should be thankful for. But then again, Canadians and Americans have always had different views about this sort of thing. Canadians are taught in Grade 6 that Canada and the United States share the world’s longest undefended border, and we think that’s cool. Whereas most Americans don’t learn about the undefended border until after they’re elected to Congress—and then they panic.

  Which brings us to the brand new Canada–U.S. border security agreement, which we need for obvious reasons. The problem is that the Americans say it’s a done deal, whereas our government will neither confirm nor deny. Now, luckily, the Americans have this crazy idea that people who are affected by this kind of thing have to be consulted. So while our side is saying nothing, we know that the U.S. Border Protection agency has asked every border state across the continent how they feel about a giant fence being built along the 49th parallel.

  Sheesh, was it something we said?

  But then again, if the guy next door wants to build a fence, there’s really not much you can do about it, other than to say, “Hey, we don’t want the ugly side facing us, okay? No bolts and uprights and stuff, and, uh, you gotta paint both sides. And, uh, how about you lay off the pressure-treated latticework?”

  It’s a very slippery slope. Next thing you know, we’re standing there in our housecoats yelling, “Hey, any tennis balls come over here, we keep.”

  Hopefully, it won’t get to that. And hopefully, before our government signs any agreements about our privacy, our security or the border, we get a peek at the fine print.

  BIGGER ISN’T ALWAYS BETTER

  November 1, 2011

  It’s not every day that government gets it right. But sometimes they do. Our Prime Minister has been consistent in his promise to create smaller government. And he has delivered.

  I mean, yes, sure, he is tied with Brian Mulroney for having the largest cabinet in Canadian history, at thirty-nine ministers. And yes, some simpler countries, like the United States, they get by with twenty-three cabinet ministers. But to be fair, a lot of our cabinet ministers are not that bright. If they didn’t have this job, they might have to turn to crime or public broadcasting. And this government is tough on both.

  But as the old adage goes, sometimes you have to spend money to make money. Which is why, in an effo
rt to make government smaller, Stephen Harper is making it bigger by creating thirty new members of Parliament. Who among us, when contemplating the major problems of the day—poverty, unemployment, Tony Clement—has not said, “If only we had more members of Parliament, everything would be okay”? Suddenly, I don’t feel bad that the people who take the search-and-rescue calls from drowning fishermen are being laid off because we’re getting new MPs.

  See? It’s all about balance.

  Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m all for electoral reform. Many geeks with an obscure interest in the subject are. But before we add new MPs, why don’t we fix some of the problems with the existing MPs? Like the fact that we are the only parliamentary democracy in the entire world where an MP does not have the right to stand up and ask a question not approved by their leader. Yes, freedom of speech is a right we all enjoy in this country, unless you’re a member of Parliament. And a bill addressing this very problem was killed last year in committee.

  So really, if Stephen Harper’s idea of job creation is creating thirty new MPs, why don’t we save ourselves a pile of cash? Get thirty old mannequins, throw them up in the back row of the House of Commons, sit back and see if anyone notices.

  Boxing with George Chuvalo in Toronto.

  Rick: “I need a tip! I need a tip!”

  George: “You know what I would suggest? You take off your gloves and leave the ring.”

  HEADS UP

  November 8, 2011

  I love Canada in November. It’s that magical time of year when so many of us get up and go to work, and it’s dark. And then we come home from work, and it’s dark. They say it leads to Seasonal Affective Disorder. Canada: the birthplace of SAD.