#184 – Incredulous Canada

Cakers love talking about immigration. Whether it’s the unique blend of garbage and idiocy that usually comes after the words “this isn’t politically correct, but” or the shameless self-promotion of Laurentian fucks looking to get a booster shot of caker mythology while finding more people to fleece, immigration is one of Canada’s stupidest talking points. One of myriad manifestations of ersatz compromise between the stupid and the slippery is Canada’s interest in taking professional immigrants with degrees and accreditations, promising them steady work and a better life in Canada, and then immediately bailing on the recent migrant by denying the validity of their degrees and certifications. Cakers don’t even accept caker accreditations; how likely are they to understand the merits of foreign degrees?

The beauty of this shafting mechanism is that it allows for both the red-meat racism of the kind that really gets the “swills beer while standing in garage” demographic and the mythological “faire Canada” of the shameless Laurentian to stand in the same place. See? There’s totally work in Canada! Migrants are coming from all over with all sorts of skills and talents! And when the migrant either can’t find work at all or join the ranks of the underemployed masses like the 53% of migrant cabbies with degrees Marty the Beer-Swilling Moron can have his go at the “dem dam migrents arr takeing our JOBS!!!!”. Cakers win, education loses. Just another day in Canada.

univ_new
(s) The loftiest dreams start here and end in a cab dodging caker puke

It doesn’t help that Canada has a nightmarishly complicated screening process and migrants are frequently not told of the complexities awaiting them. And it’s not like the government is helping; take a look at the website for the Canadian Information Centre for International Credentials. Are you not fluent in English or French yet? Hope you can read this in one of those languages because the fuck if Canada’s gonna put this information in languages that migrants are more likely to understand! Nothing says “welcome to Canada, where we will help you towards a new life” like a wall of complex instructions laden with exceptions and requirements.

The result? Stressed-out, pissed-off people who bail at the first chance and leave with the battle scars associated with trying to exist in Cakertown. One-third of male immigrants to Canada leave after fewer than 20 years; of those, most will bail out within the first year. And in so doing they affirm the two-headed hypocrisy of Canadian thinking about migrants. They came seeking hope to satisfy the Laurentian twit; they “couldn’t tough it out” and “didn’t keep their sticks on the ice” to satisfy the Below-Average Hockeymans Caker-Brigades. Even better, we can slam the door on people who are waiting without a lick of transparency for God-knows-what forms to be filled. Want to go home and visit family? Well, fuck you – if you leave, you’re not coming back. Even if you were educated in Canada on a student visa, confusion and complication end up sending people away. We’ll take you money, folks, but Canada doesn’t exactly have a track record of holding up its end of a bargain. Ask the Indigenous.

This has a sad, personal dimension that I want to hammer in before I sign off. Canada isn’t just ruining the lives of abstracted individuals. These are human beings, people with goals and hopes and dreams who were duped and ended up as cabbies, cashiers, temporary help – dreck-work that in no way meshes with the visions and promises they were given. I got shit out of the caker university system grizzled and pissy enough; Lord knows the pain of people who came so far for so little. Want to see some victims, people who were duped and deceived into leaving friends and family to come to a concrete bog? Here’s a big ol’ list of ’em, each one a stark reminder of the human costs associated with caker mythology not even remotely meshing with Canadian reality.

And as you flip through the link just remember – cakers are proud of their concept of multiculturalism.

 

 

Advertisements

#46 – Tim Horton’s Brown Sludge Water™, Part Four: the Timitentiary

One of the least pleasant places in the world to be is at a Tim Hortons “café”. Who wouldn’t want to sit staring into a void of parking, listening to underpaid workers attempting to negotiate temporary peace with knuckle-dragging shitbiscuit customers who don’t seem to understand that the milk and cream are poured automatically and pre-portioned (which means that no, the workers weren’t “trying to cheat me” out of milk, which is a refrain I hear far too often). The scope of the unpleasantness is vast and has myriad entrepots for blame. Some blame certainly goes to Tim’s stubborn adhesion to Canada’s equally-uncritical relationship with personal motorcars, which ensures that the outside world looks hideous and uninviting. Metal furnishings tinted with varying shades of shit-brown provide an uncomfortable allusion to shit, which when considering the quality of Tim’s products is not an association that they should be wanting to make. Uncomfortable chairs, ugly designs, bad urban form, and cakers as far as the eye can see. This sounds like my version of hell.

The horror of the physical experience of a Tim Horton’s begins before you even get inside. Cakers and their insane reliance on both driving and drinking a substance that needs to be plied with an unyielding quantity of fat and sugar in order to be palatable combine to create legendarily-stupid traffic snarls. Of course, the lack of planning and foresight incumbent to Canada don’t help in this regard, as moronic cakers are inclined to simply queue in their cars like cud-chewing morons when confronted with delay rather than considering whether they could go, y’know, literally anywhere else. Cakers are so in love with bad coffee and driving metal boxes that they regularly break traffic laws across Canada. Here’s Terrace, B.C. being retarded. The oilheaded buffoons of Fort McMurray are apparently of the opinion that roadways are akin to drive-through lineups. The mysteries of getting out of your car and walking into the Timitentiary are too much for cakers – from coast to coast, these morons can’t manage to grasp the incredible power that is fucking getting out of the car and walking. And we wonder why Canada is obese as fuck?

After crossing the vehicular Rubicon and daring to go inside the Tim’s you could almost be excused for huddling in your car and causing traffic snarls rather than going inside. When even the head office operates like a prison you just know that the front-facing experience is going to suck. Indeed, the average Tim Hortons has the aesthetic and feel of a waiting room in a substandard caker prison. A fixation on price-cutting and skeleton-staffing throughout the factory caker-feed industry means that the place is likely utterly disgusting. And check out these incredibly-comfortable looking chairs:

(S) Void within, void without.

And just to show how ubiquitous this horror is, here’s another picture of the inside of a Tim Horton’s:

(S) Yup, that sure is some boring shit. Note the “view”.

People congregate in these places not because they are desirable places to be but because they are in many situations the only places remaining for cakers and their victims to sit and converse. Somewhere in these ugly-ass, one-size-fits-all walls there is a tragic sentiment – that somehow, Canadians gradually permitted the degradation of space to such a degree that sterile veneers and dirty floors supported by plastic donuts and wretched coffee have become the most common gathering places.

But at least those people who do go inside as opposed to wasting even more space in their vehicles than they would simply as people. Where cakers take to declaring the cultural force of Tim Hortons as a national marker of identity I take it as a sad testament to the fact that cakers claim to love places that are so abhorrent that so many of them avoid the entire place by sitting in their fucking cars. In either case the logic of the prison wins out – utilitarian slop and generic places for those who come in, and isolation for those who opt for the drive-through. Outside or in, there are few places as rotten by design as the average Tim Hortons.

 

#42: The Job Fairy, Part Two – Hooray for Potemkin Towns!

There are few places as unbelievably sad as Canada’s collection of also-ran tourist towns. Wracked and transmorphed into Potemkin visions of what caker tourists want, these Potemkin towns invariably become centers of sad-sack commercial consumption. Whether this happens through sadsack tourist traps like lethal, abusive novelties like zoos or through a fetishized history actualized through poorly-maintained historical sites, Canada’s small-town tourism tries and fails to present anything of interest in no small part because Canada’s towns themselves are all generic places built on the same principles of sprawl, car dependency, and thoughtless development.

Let’s take a handful of examples to prove my point. As a young child I spent a lot of time driving to pathetic, collapsing tourist attractions. These places are textbook instances of caker business; rather than improving customer experience with income these places instead opt to milk every penny out of the gullible folks who dared to hope that Canadian small businesses might produce something resembling fun. The poster-child for this shit is, of course, Niagara Falls. I won’t deign to do a better job of dismissing the Falls than this unbelievably well-written piece, so I won’t try. The last line from that takedown really says it all: “We invented Vegas, for God’s sake. They have stolen our heritage”. Indeed quite.

Does the prospect of having your experience of a big ol’ waterfall ruined by waddling through an ugly downtown full of tacky has-been enterprises run by one of two families (oligarchy, for the record, is a sure-fire signal of caker business) not turn your crank? Need a “smaller-town” to waste your caker money in? Well, why don’t we turn to the vintner’s Potemkin town par excellence, Niagara-on-the-Lake! First off, you’d better not expect to be getting there any other way save for personal motorcar – there are no public transit options to get to the place, except on Friday, Saturdays, and Sundays. And even then that’s only during the summer. There’s also a touch of cruelty to playing wannabe Victorian noble in an area with atrocious living standards, but then again Canada is not a place known for its ability to recognize social cruelty.

Onwards to cottage country, where towns like Bracebridge and Huntsville milk their remaining specks of historical development while building concrete sheds of box stores and misery around said nubs of what once was. Take Bracebridge as an example. Home to the lovely Manitoba St., one of the rare streets in Canada that actually serves as a relatively enjoyable place to walk. Nice brick buildings, hip and trendy storefronts, the Saturday Farmers’ Market – what’s not to love? I’ve taken the liberty of highlighting Manitoba St. in green on the map below, and drew red boxes around the generic, formless, total shit that is also found in Bracebridge.

Bracebridge.png
The perfect ratio of bullshit to tolerability!

Oh, and don’t you worry about getting to Bracebridge, a town which was created in no small part because of rail connectivity to Toronto having rail access. You won’t be getting to Muskoka by rail anytime soon! Because fuck effectively moving huge groups of people. To be even more shitty, Manitoba St., which is already an insufferably overpriced den of caker-tchotchkes is actually pretty good in comparison to hellishly poorly-designed mutations like Collingwood, a ski and cycling hub. Both First and Hurontario Sts., which house most of the town’s attractions and commercial activity are insufferable stroads drowning in excessive parking and a lack of accessibility and affordability for car-less locals.

Even Canada’s tourist towns suck ass. Home to Potemkinized visions of small-town Canada, choking on caker businesses and their shoddy practices, and inaccessible to all save those with enough money to waste on personal vehicle ownership, the communities trying to pull tourists into their towns have thus far managed to price residents away and to build generic, boring tripe for non-residents to pretend to be amazed by. What a deal!

 

#21 – Tim Horton’s Brown Sludge Water™, Part 2: King Tim

Consumptive Canadiana is one of the most viscreal displays of caker nationalism, and few are champions of that trait more than the nasty bastards behind Tim Horton’s Brown Sludge Water Product. They’ve inveigled themselves into the caker consciousness to such a degree that even the national broadcaster effectively advertises for them. This of course perpetuates the perception that Tim Horton’s and its Brazilian-American parent company is a touchstone of Canadian identity that deserves special recognition despite serving up shitty wages that domestic Canadians won’t work for, poor treatment of foreign workers who were misguided into coming here, and ill-conceived growth in locations and menu size that relies on the continued import of poor people. These are values that cakers claim to abhor; is it really kosher to have the CBC singing Tim’s praises?

Before we begin, let’s remind ourselves of the CBC’s mandate:

“…the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, as the national public broadcaster, should provide radio and television services incorporating a wide range of programming that informs, enlightens and entertains;

…the programming provided by the Corporation should:

  1. be predominantly and distinctively Canadian, reflect Canada and its regions to national and regional audiences, while serving the special needs of those regions,
  2. actively contribute to the flow and exchange of cultural expression,
  3. be in English and in French, reflecting the different needs and circumstances of each official language community, including the particular needs and circumstances of English and French linguistic minorities,
  4. strive to be of equivalent quality in English and French,
  5. contribute to shared national consciousness and identity,
  6. be made available throughout Canada by the most appropriate and efficient means and as resources become available for the purpose, and
  7. reflect the multicultural and multiracial nature of Canada.”

Let’s play a game with this. It’s called “Where’s the Mandate?”, and the prize is a deep sense of shame and disgust. Round one: what does the headline “Tim Hortons lineup on Christmas Day at least 100 cars long in Truro“contribute to “[informing], [enlightening], and [entertaining]” Canadians? I’m pretty sure the state of the Tim Hortons in a podunk Maritime hole isn’t information that I needed, thanks. And before a caker does this, you don’t want to have to lean on the line “but it’s Canadian!!” because the business conforms in no way to your other claims of “progressive Canada“. Put it this way – do you really want your identity associated with terrible labor conditions, bad food, poor urban form, and globalization?

Here’s thing number two, coming from YouTube. The post is entitled “Refugee family checks out Tim Hortons for the first time“. This could not be less useful footage – it’s just people standing in a suburban dump of a building gearning and praising Canada. And the irony is that this kid’s folks could well end up working in one of these shitholes where they’ll soon learn of the “safety” that comes from not making enough money to progress in society. “Hello Canada” indeed.

But what about white people, says the reactionary flubberguts that usually frequent Tim Hortons? How about this one, which gets a bonus punch of consumptive Canadiana in the form of hockeymans nonsense: “Tim Hortons wedding: Hockey-mad Alberta couple brew up very Canadian vows“. That’s not news, assholes – that’s boring people making regrettable choices. Again, why is it okay that the national broadcaster is telling you what to call Canadian? Is that not more than a little bit bush-league Pravda crap? Oh, and yes – cakers are really this retarded that they think getting married in a fast-food joint is worthy of national news. This is not an isolated incident. And while we’re at it why the fuck is dogsledding to Tims a “Canadian” mode of transportation to a Tim Hortons? Most Tims I go to look like this:

bc433c884c49a84b881c9fe23afd-878x494
(s) What, you mean you aren’t proud of sitting in a metal box waiting for a metallic coffee?

The mythology of Tim Hortons is one of consumptive Canadiana. The company plays up its Canadiana through marketing but in reality is just one more inferior car-centric fast-food chain on the wrong side of history. Whether they’re giggling about hockeymans or using Tim Hortons as a set-piece to make-believe about how loving and tolerant cakers are (go back and look at the dislikes on the YouTube video of the refugees enjoying being regarded as akin to parrots in a zoo if you doubt how loving Canada is), the CBC uses Tim Hortons to contruct an ersatz nationality. As always, the shadowy guys in suits win and cakers are deluded further into drinking shit as well as eating and living in it.