That’s it. I’m moving to Canada … or … The (lying, monstrous) Donald

Today’s offering is about Donald Trump.

If you have limited time, please instead read this piece on the same subject matter by Michael Coren, in today’s Toronto Star.

As I have just told Michael, what he has written is powerful, thoughtful and poignant. It deserves our attention.

Thank you, again, Michael.

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The New York Post has a couple of stories in the last couple of days suggesting Donald Trump might somehow still become the next president of the United States of America.

My son is worried. He tells me that Canada is about to get a whole lot more populated.

“You don’t know how many people have told me that ‘If Trump gets in, I’m moving to Canada,’ ” Jon has informed me.

This, from kids attending Jon’s international school.

These kids actually go to a pretty cool school here in Uganda. It’s one surprise of life here. Families come from all over the world. Except Papua New Guinea, I guess.

One assumes it’s the American kids who are planning to move to Canada, although maybe others want to also take advantage of the situation. Canada has its charms. (Although winters are not always one of them, and if it was me, I’d twist all of mom and dad’s arms to stay in the sunshine of Africa indefinitely.)

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So, think what you want of it all, but here’s an excerpt from one of those stories from The New York Post.

“The poll with the best track record over the last three presidential elections gave Donald Trump a 2 percentage-point edge over Hillary Clinton on Saturday.

The Investor’s Business Daily/TIPP tracking poll has Trump at 42.1 percent and Clinton at 39.7 percent.

The IBD/TIPP survey, which includes 791 likely voters and carries a margin of error of 3.6 percentage points, was the most accurate predictor of the final results in the last three presidential elections — calling the outcomes within 0.9 percent of the actual tally in 2004, 2008 and 2012.

Trump pounced on the poll results. “Great new poll this morning, thank you. Let’s #DrainTheSwamp and #MakeAmericaGreatAgain!” he tweeted.

Clinton has a 95 percent chance of winning, according to a Reuters/Ipsos electoral-vote analysis from last week.

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At one time this international school in Kampala had an entire gaggle of Canadian staff: several teachers and the principal of the day. He was very cool.

Every morning, early, he’d stand at the school’s front, coffee mug in hand, and as everyone rolled in he’d actually say good morning, and often by name. So Canadian.

I even quoted him – his name was Curtis — in this Spectator article from the vault.

This piece was on the fun-busters. You know who the fun-busters are. (And if you don’t, you might be one of them.)

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Which leads us back to Mr. Trump. One thing nobody can accuse Mr. Trump of being is a fun-buster.

A monster, sure.

A fun-loving monster. Maybe sometimes, when he’s not scowling.

A lying, fun-loving monster – yes, I would even venture that.

But a presidential lying, fun-loving monster.

I can’t look anymore.

Especially at the border crossings into Canada.

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This sort of thing, by the way – on fun and monsters and lying and Donald Trump – found its way into this past Saturday’s Spectator.

In case you missed it, and in case you haven’t already been driven into deep insanity with all this circus-like news, here you go, photo and all, here, or below.

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(The Hamilton Spectator – Saturday, October 22, 2016)

KAMPALA, UGANDA – It’s hard to know what to make of it somedays, what to make of these remarkable matters like belief and truth and monsters.

I mean, when I was a young reporter I wrote about a monster that nobody believed in, and even that caused a stir. It was the so-called Lake Erie Monster, affectionately known as LEM.

According to a supermarket tabloid, he (or she?) flipped a sailboat and nearly drowned its poor passengers, Americans just wanting to get out for a summer afternoon.

My newspaper employer sent me to investigate. News, apparently, was slow.

I tried to locate survivors from Chicago. I talked to the US Coast Guard. I rang up the tabloid, The Weekly World News, in Florida. Pictured on its front page, the attacking monster looked more like some brontosaurus from the Triassic Age.

I talked to locals in Port Stanley. Its chamber of commerce, for fun, had put a $250,000 bounty on LEM’s hide. I interviewed a paranormal psychologist, plus an animal rights activist outraged about any bounty on legitimate biological marine life.

Finally, with another reporter, I went to Erie’s north shore. But a sea monster, angry or otherwise, was nowhere to be seen.

It all would have ended there with my off-beat stories, but for my efforts I was later sent with a tuxedo and train ticket to Toronto. At a swanky hotel with some of the finest media gathered from across Canada, I was then given an oversized steak and a $2,000 prize. It was all something.

Yes, people appreciate the entertainment value in their news. Look at America’s election circus, with all its acts and trickery and that unabashed Lord of the Lies, Donald J. Trump.

I realize that some people would argue that journalists don’t have a pristine relationship with the truth any more than politicians. And there’s something to this. We’re all stuck in a world where things are easily broken and bruised, the truth being chief among them.

Still, there’s lying and then there’s lying. When a Nazi knocks on your door looking for Jews, you lie because you, in fact, value a larger truth.

“Truth is like a diamond,” is how I’ve put it to students. “Light comes in it and through it and from it from different directions. You need to move around to see it better.”

You let the evidence or lack of evidence of a monster or anything else speak for itself. Strong democracies have built safeguards into this unearthing process, strong media and courts and scientific communities among them. Fortunate societies have been served well by these.

But things are now becoming an awful mess. It’s not only that your neighbour’s hairdresser on social media somehow has as much authority as The New York Times. Or that conspiracy theories in every colour of the rainbow lurk behind every naturally produced shadow. Or that western culture has this growing propensity to amuse itself to death.There’s more.

It’s this trendy view, as old as Eden, really, that truth itself doesn’t exist. Truth, say the new academics, is simply a construct. A power play. A narrative told by those in charge. Change the narrative and change the truth. Deconstruct it. (Deconstructionists, of course, can easily create their own slithering power plays.)

Any politician or spin doctor in America or anywhere knows this, just as any Communist or Nazi would. Referring to Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi’s short-in-stature propaganda minster, my father recalls his own father saying, “Remember, lies have short legs.”

Even short legs, though, can move people somewhere. Even liars (especially liars) can make desperate people feel better about themselves. This too has been part of America’s disturbing 2016 election race.

We’ll all be blessed, even imperfectly, if it finally ends Nov. 8 with the loss, if you believe the polls, of Mr. Trump. But even this will leave an aftertaste.

For one, a certain brand, a scowling and hollow worldview, has been validated enough to bring Mr. Trump so surprisingly close to running the world’s most influential nation. For two, other liars in less-stable countries aren’t any less emboldened to continue their own ways of demagogue rule.

I know. I’m writing from a continent that has seen enough of them.

2017-04-13T13:45:17+00:00 October 25th, 2016|Categories: Daily Dad|Tags: , , , , , |0 Comments

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