Oh Canada: The Stupidity of Justin Trudeau

Paul Frantizek
10 min readSep 30, 2017

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One would have hoped that with Obama being replaced on the scene by President Trump, the world would begin turning the page on vacuous social justice politics. Unfortunately that has not proved to be the case; as if to prove Marx’s theory that history repeats itself, first as tragedy then as farce, Obama has been replaced on the world stage by a figure even more vapid than himself. Given Canada’s cultural position as a calmer and more genteel but also blander and more boring version of the US, it only makes sense that they would answer the First Black President with the First Teen Idol Prime Minister: thus do we get the latest best hope of the free world, Justin Trudeau.

The dream dies hard! (Although according to some accounts, both sides of the border would like change).

Rolling Stone’s fawning isn’t the only reason Justin Trudeau has been in the news recently; in the past months we’ve seen Justin authorize a +$8,000,000 payout to Osama Bin Laden compatriot and admitted (as well as reportedly unrepentant) killer of US troops, Omar Khadr:

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau gave Omar Khadr a big payout, but the terrorist’s real victims may never see any of that money. Canada agreed to pay the former Guantanamo prisoner a reported $8 million in a lawsuit alleging civil rights violations. The settlement included an apology.

The Canadian-born Khadr was 15 in 2002 when he tossed a grenade in a firefight that killed U.S. Army Sgt. 1st Class Christopher Speer, a special forces medic. Tabitha Speer, the soldier’s widow, and Layne Morris, who was blinded in the firefight, won a $134 million wrongful-death default judgment against Khadr two years ago in Utah…

Lawyers for the widow and Morris requested an order freezing Khadr’s assets, but last week a Canadian judge threw out the request, calling it “extraordinary.” … Morris told Fox News last week that “it was just crazy that you would give someone like that $8 million because his feelings got hurt. I know he spent time in Guantanamo. That was due to his own actions.”

But it would be a mistake to think that Justin Trudeau’s affinity for Khadr represents either a particular hostility to the War on Terrorism or a peculiarly anti-American expression of the Canadian left; Trudeau has also been more than willing to see his own people victimized by the Mohammedans, witness the recent news from Edmonton where an erstwhile ‘Syrian refugee’ was arrested for molesting — cue LeBron James — not one or two, not four and not five, but six underaged girls at a local waterpark.

A 39-year-old man has been charged in connection with several sexual assaults that occurred at the West Edmonton Mall World Waterpark over the weekend. Police were called to the waterpark at around 10:30 p.m. Saturday.

Officers allege a man followed and inappropriately touched six teenage girls while they were swimming at the waterpark. “It’s fairly shocking,” EPS spokesperson Scott Pattison said. “It’s involved and traumatized six individuals and their families.” Pattison said all six girls were under the age of 16. “The girls were very courageous in coming forward and talking to the lifeguard, that’s not always the case,” Pattison said.

Soleimen Soleimen Hajj, a Syrian refugee and father of six, has since been charged with six counts of sexual assault and six counts of sexual interference.

Now lest it be thought that Justin Trudeau’s multi-culti radicalism sprang up out of a vacuum, no less a source than the CBC chimed in immediately to castigate other outlets for their impolitic sharing of Mr Soleimen Hajj’s ethnicity and immigration status as well as warning of that dread social justice bugbear, Islamophobia:

Mohamed Huque, executive director of the Islamic Family and Social Services Association, said reports about Soleiman’s refugee status unfairly vilified an entire community. “It’s going to inflame a segment of our population who already harbour a bias, a discrimination or unfair views towards newcomers,” said Huque, whose group last year helped resettle 250 Syrian refugees. “I think this certainly emboldens them.”

Huque said the case is already being used to incite fear of new immigrants, and has cast a negative light on thousands of refugees. “The insertion of two words — Syrian refugee — completely changed the dimension of the story,” he said. “What was initially a local crime story became a wider discussion about screening practices, immigration levels. It just turned into an entirely different debate… If this person was Caucasian, that wouldn’t have been identified in any way, because it’s not relevant to the story. And his immigration status certainly shouldn’t be.”

CBC’s maundering aside, such sentiments are hardly limited to Mr Soleimen Hajj; many of the Muslim ‘refugees’ currently streaming into the Great White North bear similar attitudes regarding age of consent.

According to the Prophet (peace be upon him), Nine is just fine.

Then there’s the case of the Vancouver area mosque that over the past decade has hit the MENA Trifecta of charitable fraud, sexual improprieties and terrorist associations:

A charity that runs a Vancouver-area mosque has been penalized by federal regulators after an audit found its former president and imam spent tens of thousands of dollars on personal purchases including a spa, jewelry, video games and hair dye. The Canada Revenue Agency audit of the Islamic Society of British Columbia also alleged the charity was “controlled or influenced” by a Qatar organization accused of supporting terrorism, although that did not result in a penalty.

The Islamic Society operates the Masjid Al-Hidayah and Islamic Cultural Centre in Port Coquitlam, B.C., and was formerly headed by Saadeldin Bahr, who is now serving a 3–1/2-year prison sentence for a 2013 sexual assault at the mosque. CRA documents obtained by Global News allege that during the period covered by the audit — Oct. 1, 2010 to Sept. 30, 2013 — Bahr made purchases with his personal credit cards and reimbursed himself with online bank transfers from the charity accounts.

Finally, to forestall any retort with the hoary old neoliberal chestnut that ‘Immigrants are net contributors to society’, Calgary’s experience with their ‘Syrian refugees’ has been less than encouraging:

Less than five per cent of government-sponsored refugees have found full or part-time employment, according to CCIS, the organization coordinating the settlement of government-assisted refugees. CCIS is also preparing to release the first comprehensive assessment of refugees in Calgary.

All pandering, all the time

It seems that — apart from traditional Canadians, naturally — there is no one Justin Trudeau won’t pander to (Let’s face it — a person has to be a complete waterhead to spend one day high-fiving drag queens before bowing to Mecca and munching falafel with Islamic fundamentalists the next).

Justin Trudeau reaching out to and breaking (flat) bread with his two favorite constituencies.

Although Muslims and LGBTs are the primary beneficiaries of Justin’s Pander-a-Thon, they are hardly the only; he recently appeared to offer ablutions in a Hindu temple, replete with traditional South Asian garb, leading one to wonder whether Justin Trudeau thinks he’s the Prime Minister of an Anglo-sphere nation or a tour guide at the Epcot Center.

Prime Minister Vishnu Come Lately indulging in his fetish for non-Western garb.

While freedom of conscience is an intrinsic human right in the Western tradition and tolerance for differing faiths is a core attribute of a pluralistic society, there’s something patronizing and, frankly speaking, creepy about feigned participation in rites that one neither believes nor even bothers to understand.

Not to mention that Justin’s preferred state of multi-confessional diversity is likely to be short-lived, given the reluctance some of his favored demographics display towards Canadian pluralism:

One of Montreal’s most prominent Imans, offering his ‘What for?’ re: Justin’s Glorious Mosaic.

Justin Trudeau’s nonstop virtue-signalling in the area of immigration and multiculturalism has apparently borne fruit; Canada seems to have displaced the USA as the destination of choice among welfare seekers in the Western Hemisphere; both Central Americans and Haitians are now entering Canada in distressing numbers. To their credit, Canadians don’t seem entirely sold on Justin’s increasingly unreal view of the world; recent polls show a distinct slackening in support for the Liberal Party under his leadership, much of it related to the LP’s extreme positions on Canadian culture and immigration.

A Pillar of Society

As unreal as Justin’s worldview seems, it’s uncharitable to assume he’s acting out of ideological malice or any other variant of informed conscience; given his background, it’s distinctly possible that his cognitive processes have been compromised through prenatal exposure to psychotropic drugs on the part of his mother, Margaret Trudeau née Sinclair. Some history from a site called, hilariously enough, VeryImportantPotheads:

“I smoked pot with the best of them and came to love it,” former Canadian first lady Margaret Trudeau says on page one of her 1979 book Beyond Reason (Paddington Press). Born Margaret Sinclair in 1948 to a Canadian diplomat, she was the youngest first lady in the world when she married Pierre Trudeau in 1971.

“I got obsessed with the idea of freedom…with materialism and greed, with the influence of pop music and revolt,” Trudeau wrote. While listening to Janis Joplin, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, she studied Blake, Coleridge and Keats as well as Timothy Leary and Buckminster Fuller. “It was easy to get marijuana,” according to Trudeau. “We grew it in our gardens in the summertime or bought the grass that came up cheap and plentiful from Mexico and California. I drunk it all in — the music, the drugs, the life. I jibed only at opium, scared off by Coleridge, and though some of my friends tried LSD, there was no cocaine about. I did try mescaline one day, and spent eight hours sitting up a tree wishing I were a bird.”

After college, she traveled to Morocco, living in communes and “learned to inhale the mild keef smoked in long reed pipes with clay bowls.” Though she enjoyed the freedom, she couldn’t stand the unsanitary conditions and overindulgence in drugs in sex. But she tried LSD and by mistake took an overdose of belladonna given to her by a pharmacist instead of the cough medicine she asked for.

She fell for a hippie named Yves, but when he rejected her she took up with Pierre Trudeau, the prime minister of Canada. He was 50, Margaret 22. Before he would marry her, he insisted she give up grass.

Justin’s mother presenting his brother to paparazzi (left) and displaying her 70s era grooming at Studio 54 (right).

However the rigor imposed by her position of civic responsibility didn’t take; soon enough, Justin’s mother returned to her flower-child, disco-princess ways:

Much like Prince Charles’s young bride Diana, Margaret disliked the protocol and police protection of her too-public life. She bore three sons and stayed “straight” until a 1976 trip to Mexico. “It was like coming home — magic and drugs, all my old stomping grounds,” she wrote. In Palenque, some old friends slipped her “a little plastic sack of peyote mushrooms. That night at Cancun I allowed myself a secret taste. It made me look forward to more.” She enjoyed the unstuffiness of Cuba so much that Pierre joked he thought she would ask for asylum. In Venezuela, a “liberal dose of belladonna a Caracas doctor had prescribed for stomach cramps” led to an embarrassing incident where she sang at a state dinner.

In 1976 she traveled to California to hear Krishnamurti, began taking an interest in issues rather than her wardrobe, and studied photography. Unhappy with her life, while weaning herself off tranquilizers, she started using marijuana again. “I smoked not one but two strong joints before setting out for one of my [psychiatric] appointments. No sooner was I settled in his office than I began to talk. I told him about my dreams, my childhood, my marriage. A look of profound self-satisfaction spread across his face. ‘You see,’ he said at the end of our hour, ‘you can do it, you know, without drugs.’ I laughed. I never went to see him again.” Pierre started to greet her after work, “not to kiss me, but to sniff me” for marijuana. The couple separated. She read Carlos Castaneda, smoked hash with the Stones, and partied at New York’s Studio 54 while looking for photography or acting jobs. Although she was apart from her children, she wrote that her relationship with her family was healthier when she exercised her freedom.

Apparently still seeking approval, Trudeau said quitting marijuana helped her mental health at a press conference for the Canadian Mental Health Association’s March 2007 Bottom Line Conference. She said she has been “recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder” and announced, “I loved marijuana. I was a hippie in the ’60s. I started smoking at a young age. I took to it like a duck to water. Strawberry Fields Forever and all that.”

Margaret Trudeau’s participation in the Wild and (in her case literally) Wooly 70s party scene culminated in her well-publicized role as a groupie to the very exemplars to the epoch’s hedonism, The Rolling Stones. Rumors that she slept with the entire band are probably apocryphal — she was too old for Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts just seems too English for that sort of ruttish behavior — but it is accepted as true that both Mick Jagger and Ronnie Wood had her in rapid succession. Which, regardless of however the politics work out, gives Justin Trudeau one bragging point that can never be denied to him; he’s the first national leader whose mother was the reputed inspiration for a Rolling Stones song.

So, despite whatever other ill one can speak in regard to Justin Trudeau and his (alleged) leadership — millions for Al Queda terrorists, open borders to child molesters and Jew-haters, shameless pandering, burgeoning welfare ranks — he will forever provide Canadians with good entertainment value. After all, where else can one find a the son of a doper groupie mother and a cuckolded stuff-shirt father who takes to the stage at a global event to, without any sense of irony or self-awareness, lecture others on the virtues of ‘male feminism’?

The cuck crows at dawn: Justy T inveighing on the virtues of ‘male feminism’.

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