I knew it was going to take a significant something to light a fire under my ass to get me blogging again. I’ve spent the last three months marinating in the American people’s decision to award Donald Trump the presidency, and watching seemingly everyone who swears they didn’t cast a vote for him become completely unhinged (myself included). Friends, family members, colleagues, online acquaintances, and even complete strangers find themselves at odds with each other over how the most unlikely candidate for the big chair is actually managing to sit in it.
This blog entry isn’t a rant about Ann Coulter and her inflammatory rhetoric. I am using her image as representation of all that is reprehensible about North America.
When I write about life in my tiny corner of the world, I often say “North America” rather than “America” or the “United States”. That’s because I am literally a citizen of the continent; I am American and Canadian. And I am somewhat obsessive when it comes to keeping up with events in both countries.