Watch and learn, Brits. In 2012 you'll be like us: curled up like a shrimp on the couch, screaming as your prime minister – whoever he may be at that point – embarrasses you in public at the opening of the Olympic games.
Whenever Stephen Harper's big boxy grey-lidded head appeared on screen, with its wet smile (note on his hand: Try to grin like normal human), I would rant at anyone within hearing, ie, no one. "He's Bush with a mean streak, he's a Slytherin, we only gave him a minority government in a prolonged fit of pique." (Then I'd say it in French, out of bilingual idealism.)
Nice job Heather, a Gollum reference, a George Bush reference, a Sarah Palin reference, a Harry Potter reference a Natural Governing Party reference and a official bilingualism reference. But tell us how you really feel.
In Canada, we normally we have a House of Commons where our MPs vent on our behalf, but since Harper prorogued parliament (governing is so much more efficient without it, as one of his ministers put it) with the permission of the governor-general, we have nowhere else to go but the sofa.
Prorougation induced depression and poor editing...Good grief. Naturally it gets weirder.
For Canadians, the opening ceremonies in Vancouver on Friday were like watching your dad get drunk at a party. You love the guy, but my God, he isn't going to dance. In front of everyone. Look, he's taking off his jacket. As I live and die, what is he wearing? Awww, I love him. And so on.
The event gave the impression that Canadians spent their time posing on pointy mountains, paddling navy blue lakes and staring at evergreens (anti-deciduous to an extent that verged on the racist, I say), surrounded by snow snow snow, more snow than air. And we honour the wisdom of our aboriginal peoples, whose land we, well, stole but they have forgiven us and dance at our Olympic ceremonies.
In reality, most of us are frighteningly inert, the water on the reserves where our poverty-stricken native Canadians live is undrinkable, British Columbia trees are being killed en masse by the mountain pine beetle unleashed by climate change, and the snow is brown and crusty on the curbs of the cities near the US border where most of us live.
Yikes! Daddy issues, batshit crazy racism reference, colonialism, tokenism, aboriginal poverty, global warming and anti-Americanism. Heather is in fine form, peaking at just the right time. She goes on to critique the opening ceremonies and then returns to her favorite topic...her depression.
It's her updated depressing rendition of her classic Both Sides Now ("I really don't know clouds/love/life at all") which I always call I Hate Myself and Want to Die. You'll remember the song from Love Actually when Emma Thompson had just learned that Alan Rickman had been unfaithful. She spent the song in the marital bedroom dazedly straightening out a quilt.
I spent it sobbing. Thanks, Olympic organisers!
Classic Mallick. A true gold medal performance.